Wolf Instinct

by Paige Tyler

  “Anything interesting happen today?” Zane asked his friends, motioning with his head toward the parking garage visible through the window.

  The space they’d rented had a good view of the administrative offices and gated area where vehicles entered and exited the garage. Rachel and Diego had rearranged the furniture, placing a table and two chairs near the window, making it easy to keep an eye on the place. And since the building they were in had mirrored windows, no one outside would be able to see in, especially since they’d kept the lights low. There was also a comfy-looking couch that would come in handy if she or Zane needed to grab some shut-eye.

  “Not really,” Rachel said. “Two men and a woman in fancy clothes went into the administrative offices around three this afternoon, then came out about an hour later looking pissed.”

  “We got pictures of them.” Diego slung a backpack over one shoulder. “I sent everything to Becker to see if he can ID them. I’ll bet money they were from Black Swan Enterprises.”

  Rachel and Diego were halfway to the door when Alyssa remembered the folded piece of notebook paper in her back pocket. “Wait up. I’ve got something for you guys.”

  Rachel unfolded the paper, her brow furrowing as she read the address and two sets of numbers on it. “What’s this?”

  “Your new hotel,” Alyssa said. “I couldn’t get you into the Westin where I’m staying, but the Fairfield Inn and Suites on Sepulveda is close by and a hell of a lot better than the place you’re in now. It’s where Zoe and Chloe are staying. With the discount I was able to get, you’ll have a two-room suite that’s actually cheaper than the no-name you’re in. Though I can still get you a separate room if you want.”

  Rachel shook her head. “A room with Diego is fine. I’d rather not be alone anyway. Thank you for this. I owe you.”

  Alyssa wondered what Rachel meant about not wanting to be alone. She assumed it had something to do with the tension she’d picked up on earlier at their motel, but Zane was going out of his way not to look at her, so she couldn’t tell.

  She gave Rachel a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “We’ll swing by Stefan’s house to see if anything is going on there, then check out of the motel and move everything over to the Fairfield,” Diego said, opening the door. “We’ll grab your stuff, too, Zane.”

  “Thanks,” Zane said as he took their burgers and fries out of the takeout bags and set them on the table.

  Alyssa shrugged off the light jacket she was wearing and hung it on the back of one of the chairs, glancing out the window, then at the open laptop on the table. None of the cars she and Zane had marked with the tracking devices had moved all day.

  “What was Rachel saying about not liking to be alone?” She took their drinks out of the cardboard carrier and set them down on the table beside the food. “I know she and Diego are pretending to be a couple, but something tells me that’s not what she meant.”

  Zane didn’t bother to take off the leather jacket he’d been wearing since she’d met him, and a part of her hoped he wouldn’t. He looked so damn sexy in it, even if it wasn’t needed in the temperature-controlled office space. In the dim light of the room, Alyssa could see the pensive expression on his face as he sat down and started to unwrap his cheeseburger. He looked tired—and worried.

  “Rachel went through some stuff about a year ago, before she came to Dallas and joined our department,” he said. “It was pretty rough, and she still has bad dreams about it. I think it helps knowing there’s someone in the room with her. Someone she can trust.”

  Alyssa slipped into the chair across from him and started opening ketchup packs. That was the part she hated about eating takeout. How the hell was anyone supposed to eat fries with these tiny dribbles of ketchup? And whenever she asked for more, it was like they were handing out gold. It took twenty of the damn packs to even get a respectable-size puddle.

  “It’s not really any of my business, but if she’s having nightmares, wouldn’t it have been better for her to stay back in Dallas, so she could get some help?”

  “If any of us knew she was having issues, then yes, but she’s here now and she wants to see this through,” he said. “And truthfully, I understand why she needs to. When our compound was attacked, Rachel was as much a target as the rest of us. She wants to get the man who tried to kill her teammates just as much as I do.”

  Alyssa never had a boss who’d tried to kill her, but she supposed she could see how that might drive someone to ignore everything else going on in their life until they caught the person. She’d pushed herself in the past to do her job. Rachel was obviously no different.

  Other than the possibility of not being fully human.

  They ate in silence for a while, keeping an eye on the parking garage at the same time. She was nibbling on a fry when she noticed Zane regarding her thoughtfully.

  “What?” she asked, hoping she hadn’t dribbled ketchup on herself.

  “Nothing.” He smiled. “It’s just…I wanted to thank you for getting us other rooms. I could care less about where I sleep and I’m sure Diego is the same, but Rachel has had a bad few days. A nicer room will help a lot more than you might think. So, again…thank you.”

  She started to say it wasn’t a big deal, but then she caught the genuine gratitude on Zane’s face and realized that it was a big deal to him because Rachel was important to him. For all of a second, she felt a little twinge of something that might have been jealousy. But it disappeared just as quickly. While Rachel was obviously important to him, so was Diego and every other member of his SWAT team back in Dallas.

  “Rachel and the other people on your team are like family, huh?” she asked, picking up her cheeseburger and biting into it. It was juicy and delicious. Not as good as the fries, because seriously, nothing was as good as french fries. Still, she could see becoming addicted to the things.

  Zane didn’t answer right away, his expression introspective. Like he was thinking hard about what she’d asked. Of course, it was also possible he hadn’t replied because he didn’t feel like talking to her about it. But then, his sensuous mouth curved.

  “Yeah, they are my family.”

  She wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was even more attractive when that charming smile of his was mirrored in his dark eyes. When that happened, they seemed to almost sparkle. And when his dimples deepened, she almost jumped up and hugged him just for an excuse to bury his face in her breasts.

  “You said you grew up near London, right?” she asked, mostly to get the image of his gorgeous face nestled between her boobs out of her head. “Are you still close with your family? Your blood family, I mean.”

  His smile faded, and Alyssa immediately regretted bringing up the subject.

  “The FBI background check didn’t cover that?” he asked, taking a big bite of his cheeseburger. Crap, he could put away food. Which probably explained why’d he’d bought enough to feed four people. “I’m not sure whether I should be thrilled or disappointed.”

  She laughed. “Truthfully, the file I saw didn’t go that far back. I know you served in the British military, then came to the U.S. in late 2007. I know nothing about your family at all. But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  Zane shrugged as he took a sip of his soda. “Not really much to talk about. I’m not close with my family. I haven’t been in a long time.”

  There was something about the way he said the words that made her think he was trying to act like it didn’t matter to him when it really did. “Did you and your family have a falling out? Is that why you left home and came to the States?”

  He scarfed down the rest of the first burger and reached for the second. “We didn’t exactly have a falling out, but there were a lot of arguments.”

  “What did you argue about?”

  She knew she’d said she didn’t want to pry, but she was shocked by how eager she was to know about Zane’s past. She wasn’t sure
if he’d tell her about it, though. He didn’t seem like the sharing type.

  Across from her, his expression betrayed something painful, something long buried he’d probably prefer not digging into. “The men in my family have served in the British Army for generations, and there was never any doubt I’d serve, too. Hell, at one point, I thought I might make a career of it.”

  “But?” Alyssa prodded.

  He tensed, his shoulders and chest visibly tightening up. Damn, maybe it had been a bad idea to bring this up.

  “I was in Afghanistan with three other members of my special ops unit,” he said, not looking at her. “We got involved in a rescue mission that went badly. The other guys—men I’d been friends with for years—didn’t make it. I barely did myself.”

  All the air was sucked out of Alyssa’s lungs at that announcement. It took everything in her not to start crying. She had no idea why, since she barely knew Zane and hadn’t known any of his friends, but she could feel the pain he was carrying like it was her own.

  Before she realized what she was doing, she reached across the table with her right hand, inviting him to take it. She expected him to offer his left hand since it was opposite hers, but instead, he used his right. It was a little awkward, but she was surprised he’d accepted the gesture at all, so she wasn’t going to complain.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly, squeezing his hand. “I can’t even imagine what it’s like going through something like that, but I hate that you had to.”

  He glanced down at her hand where it held his like he’d just now noticed it. He gave her a small smile, then slowly pulled his hand away. Alyssa immediately missed the warmth under her fingers.

  “Thanks, but it was a long time ago,” he said. “I don’t even think about it now.”

  That was a lie if she’d ever heard one, but she didn’t call him on it, deciding it was better to keep him talking. “So I’m guessing your family freaked out when you got injured. Is that what you guys fought about? It must have been pretty serious to get you to leave the country and move all the way to Dallas.”

  “We fought about my injuries, just not the ones you’re referring to.” He spoke slowly, like it was painful to get the words out. “My physical injuries healed up surprisingly fast. Amazingly fast to be truthful. But the man who came back from Afghanistan wasn’t the one they knew, and my family didn’t handle that very well. They talked a lot about wanting me to get better, but what they really wanted was for me to go back to being the person I’d been before. When that didn’t happen, they walked away from me.”

  “Wait a minute,” she said, sure she’d missed something. “Are you telling me your family turned their backs on you because you were dealing with stuff that takes time to work out?”

  She avoided saying PTSD. She’d known a lot of people who hated that acronym and all the negative connotations that came with it.

  “It wasn’t all on them.” He looked out the window, his gaze focused on the garage. “It took me a while to accept it, but mostly, it was me. I knew I was changing, turning into some kind of monster. I could see it every night in the mirror when I woke up from the god-awful nightmares. But I didn’t reach out to anyone for help. I guess it was easier to shove them all away—my parents, my brothers and sisters, even my fiancée.”

  Fiancée?

  To say Alyssa was shocked as hell at that tidbit of information was an understatement.

  “You were going to be married?” she asked in disbelief. “And she walked out on you?”

  He gave her a shrug. “Like I said, I pretty much turned into a monster. That wasn’t what Sienna had signed up for, and I’ve never held it against her.”

  Alyssa bit her tongue to keep from saying something she shouldn’t. Zane was apparently a lot more forgiving than she was. If someone had walked out on her like that—someone who was supposed to be in love with her—she’d be royally pissed.

  His fiancée might be well in the past, but that didn’t mean Alyssa wanted to hear about her, so she changed the subject.

  “How did you end up in Dallas?” she asked.

  Zane snorted. “I’ll admit, it wasn’t exactly a well-thought-out plan. I’d been separated from the army, wasn’t talking to my family, my fiancée walked out, and I had no real job prospects. Oh, and I had enough money in the bank to last me three weeks.” He unwrapped his third burger of the night. “I was sitting on a bench in Hyde Park, wondering what the hell to do next, when this big American bloke sat down next to me and asked right out of the blue if I’d ever thought of becoming a cop. That man was Gage Dixon, the commander of the Dallas SWAT team. He was attending an Interpol conference in London and had gone for a walk when he found me.”

  Good thing her mouth was full of french fries; otherwise, it probably would have fallen open. “You’re kidding, right? You meet a stranger on a park bench in London, and just like that, he offers you a job in Dallas? You didn’t even know him.”

  Zane chuckled. “I know you’ve never met him, but suffice to say Gage is an extremely persuasive man. And as strange as it might seem, we had a lot in common at the time. I truthfully couldn’t have found Dallas on a map, but he had me convinced to move there within ten minutes.”

  “It’s not really my area of expertise, but weren’t there…I don’t know…visa issues to deal with?”

  “My mum is American, so I have dual citizenship. Moving to the States wasn’t that complicated for me even though I’d never been here prior to that.”

  Alyssa couldn’t believe Zane’s family had abandoned him. How could parents turn their backs on a son like that? Yeah, Zane had said he’d pushed everyone away, but to Alyssa, who was from a close family, it seemed harsh.

  “So you up and moved to Dallas completely on a whim and haven’t spoken to your family since?” she asked. “Not even a call during the holidays?”

  He picked up some fries and dunked them in mayo. “I’ve tried to call a few times. I’ve even gotten as far as picking up the phone and punching in the number. But I always hang up before it rings.”

  “Why?”

  “Law of inertia, I guess,” he murmured. “You know, an object at rest stays at rest. Every day that passed without me calling made it that much harder to pick up the phone and close the distance between us. After a while, it seemed easier to accept I’d waited too long to repair the damage.”

  She reached out her hand to take his again in support, not surprised when he chose to use his right instead of his left. Now that she thought about it, she realized he rarely used his left arm when he didn’t have to. The fight in the alley behind the club, driving his SUV, even while eating—in almost all those cases, he used his right arm for everything while his left hung loosely at his side.

  “How did you injure your arm?” Alyssa asked, closing her fingers around his and gently squeezing. “Did it happen in Afghanistan?”

  He lifted his left arm and placed that hand over the one his right was already cupping. The movement didn’t seem like it hurt, but she could tell he was moving carefully.

  “No, it didn’t happen in Afghanistan.” He took a deep breath, then let it out. “It happened during a drive-by shooting back in November—people associated with my former chief of police. They were trying to kill a young woman simply because they thought she was different from them. I got hit in the back of my upper arm. There was a lot of damage and I’m still trying to overcome it.”

  Alyssa knew his injury and how he was dealing with it was none of her business, but that didn’t stop her from caring.

  “Is that why you always wear your jacket?” she asked. “So no one can see the scars?”

  Zane returned her gaze, so many emotions flickering across his features that she found it hard to breathe. Self-loathing and doubt. Confusion and fear. Something else that almost seemed like longing. But then the mask that had started to slip was back and the emotions disappeared.

  “Sometimes I forget you’re a fed, trained to be observant
.” When she didn’t say anything, he continued, “But yes. The scarring is pretty bad.” He broke eye contact, gazing over at the parking garage again. “I wore a bandage wrapped around it for weeks, so I wouldn’t even have to look at it. But the doctor said it was slowing down the healing process, so I just make sure to wear a jacket whenever I go out. Fortunately, the weather here is cool enough right now to do that. If it were the middle of summer, I’d be in trouble.”

  Alyssa couldn’t help but shake her head. Up to now, she’d never seen Zane lack for confidence in anything. Not in the way he carried himself and not in the way he interacted with others. On the contrary, he filled any room he was in with an aura of calm masculinity. She’d never thought of him as anything other than self-assured and comfortable in his own skin. But when the topic of conversation turned to his injured am, everything about him changed. It hurt like crazy to see him like that.

  She knew a little something about scars, of course. Not the physical kind, but scars nonetheless. They had a way of getting thicker—rougher—if you didn’t force yourself to go through the agony of breaking them down. But sometimes it was hard finding the courage to deal with them when you carried them on your own. Sometimes you needed help.

  “Hiding yours scars makes them worse, Zane. Not physically, but in every other way. Especially emotionally. If you refuse to let people into your world, the scars take on a life of their own and you’re all alone with them.”

  He looked at her. “Sounds like the voice of experience. Want to tell me about it?”