Unleashing Hound

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Unleashing Hound Page 17

by Harley Stone


  “You did?” Keeping her attention firmly on the sidewalk in front of us, her tone sounded unsurprised. “Hmm. I must have fallen asleep.”

  I watched her, waiting, but she refused to meet my gaze. Every warning bell within me blared, reminding me why I shouldn’t trust her, and making me feel like a goddamn idiot for fucking with her, and just plain fucking her, in the first place. She was my boss’ cousin, after all, a point driven home when Morse called this morning and asked me to accompany her on today’s excursion. She could have made the request herself, but I’d received nothing but radio silence from her since she fled my room yesterday morning.

  What the actual fuck was going on?

  Am I not worth your time now, Mila?

  Why did you run out on me?

  What’s the real reason you didn’t answer your door last night?

  Did what we shared mean a fuckin’ thing to you?

  All the questions I wanted to ask filled up the space between us, making me angrier with each step. I opened my mouth to demand answers, only to snap it closed again. Mila didn’t owe me shit. And if I pressed her, she’d probably lie.

  I couldn’t handle any more goddamn lies.

  “Where are we going?” I asked instead, ignoring the giant elephant on the street.

  “A restaurant.” She frowned and glanced my direction. Something that looked a lot like remorse leaked into her eyes before she blinked and looked away again. “It’s only about a block and a half away.”

  She felt sorry for me.

  She knew walking hurt and felt bad that I was the one joining her. I wondered if that was why she hadn’t called me herself to ask. Maybe she was hoping Morse would send along a different prospect. Too bad. I was here now, and I didn’t want her pity, I wanted… I didn’t even know anymore. Two days ago, I had zero expectations. I had distanced myself, and it was fine. Then she changed the game and fucked every reservation right out of me. Literally. I’d wanted everything from her: friendship, respect, her body, maybe even her love someday. I’d dared to dream of a future for us. Then she walked out the door, flipping me upside down and inside out. Now, I didn’t even know which direction was up. Suspecting I’d only been a pity fuck, made me feel like the stupidest schmuck on the planet.

  Maybe it wasn’t pity. Maybe she felt indebted to me for looking out for her, and sex was how she said thank you. Was that the kind of backwoods, chauvinistic bullshit religious cults taught? I didn’t know, but I was certain I hadn’t given her any sign that I expected sex from her. Hell, in all our conversations, sex had never even come up.

  She’d initiated the act. I’d tried my damnedest to resist her, but she was sober and naked, and I only had so much goddamn willpower. I watched the side of her face, hoping for some flicker of emotion that would tell me what she really thought of me.

  Do you regret fucking me?

  The words stuck to my tongue, refusing to come out. Even if she gave me an honest answer, it wouldn’t change anything. There’d still be this rift between us.

  Over the past few weeks, I felt like I’d gotten to know Mila pretty well. When nobody else was around, she was funny, caring, and real. She masked her emotions when we were with others, but she’d let me see who she really was. My questions often frustrated her, but she usually answered. We’d shared fears, hopes, and dreams.

  I’d considered her a friend.

  My friend was gone today, Mila’s mask was firmly in place like I was just another Joe Schmo she couldn’t be real with. Her expression was so generic I wanted to call her out for being a goddamn poser. But I couldn’t, because I didn’t even know where we stood anymore.

  She was the best lay in my life, but by fucking her, I’d lost every inch of ground I’d gained as her friend. Marching down the street by her side, I’d never felt further away from her. If I’d only carried my boots to my room Saturday morning, instead of taking the time to put them on, I would have been gone by the time Mila returned from the restroom and we could have avoided this whole situation.

  For how long?

  Mila was hot, and I was beyond attracted to her. With the sexual tension brewing between us, I knew even if I’d somehow managed to avoid her that morning, I would have given in eventually. All the coulda woulda shouldas of the world wouldn’t have prevented us from eventually fucking.

  And now, our friendship was screwed.

  As we reached the restaurant, I had to say something to at least try to make things right between us again. Instead of opening the door for her, I held it closed, forcing her to finally look at me. “Mila, if I did something to make you—”

  “You didn’t.” She dropped her gaze, her eyes shining with what appeared to be… tears?

  Confused, I pressed on. “Then talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

  She blinked a few times before meeting my gaze. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. I just need… Can we go back to before?”

  I knew what she was asking for but couldn’t believe she really wanted it. We’d shared more than sex. There’d been a connection, an intimacy I’d never felt before. How could she just forget that? How could I?

  “You’re asking me to pretend it didn’t happen.” Disappointed didn’t even begin to describe how I felt.

  “Please? I… I’m sorry. Don’t make things awkward between us.”

  Me?

  She was the one who’d been ghosting me. She was the one acting disingenuous and weird, like I was some stranger who barely knew her. Desperate for some sort of explanation, I studied her face, but her emotions were still on lockdown, and she was careful not to reveal anything. Whatever progress I thought I’d made with her had been shot to shit.

  She looked pointedly at the glass door I was still holding closed. A few people had gathered on the other side, looking like they were about to charge me.

  I gave in and opened the door.

  People exited, grumbling. Mila waited until they were through before breezing past me to enter. I got a whiff of her soft, floral scent, and it made my chest ache. I wanted to reach out to her and find that intimacy we’d shared once again, but I held back. A bright smile stretched across her face. Following her gaze, I saw Toby sitting in a corner booth.

  It was irrational and immature, but I felt replaced, like she could only have one friend at a time, and she’d chosen him. He got the smile and the hug I should have been greeted with, while I got the cold shoulder. They slid into opposite benches and stared at each other across the table like the rest of the restaurant didn’t exist.

  Like I was fucking invisible.

  Toby’s gaze cut to me, and he opened his mouth.

  “It’s so great to see you again,” Mila gushed, drawing his attention back to her. Days ago, she seemed certain he was a murderer. Today, her smile threatened to blind the entire establishment.

  “I’m glad you called,” Toby replied. “To be honest, I was beginning to worry that you wouldn’t.”

  “Sorry about that. I’ve been busy helping Levi with a project.”

  He waved her off with a hand. “Don’t even worry about it. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. I was sorry to hear that Levi won’t be joining us. He’s okay, right?”

  Since I clearly wasn’t going to get an invitation to join them, I claimed a nearby table, keeping an eye on the duo.

  “Levi’s fine, just working.”

  “But it’s the sabbath,” Toby replied, sounding somewhere between confused and outraged.

  “I know! It’s awful. He rarely takes a day off. I worry about him all the time.”

  Toby grabbed her hand and squeezed it encouragingly. “We’ll pray for him.”

  She beamed Toby a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

  I almost threw up in my mouth. Mila and I had spoken about religion a few times, and, according to her, she had no idea what she believed anymore. So, who the hell would she be praying to?

  “Prayer works, Amelia. I’ve been praying to find you for years, and look. H
ere you are.”

  I had to hand it to him, it was a good line. She blushed and looked away, flirting. The sight made my stomach churn. Who the fuck was this woman? Did I even know her at all? I thought I had, but now, I wasn’t so sure.

  Turning her attention to her menu, Mila asked for Toby’s recommendation. As the two of them worked out their order, I flagged down a waitress and requested a soda so I wouldn’t get evicted for loitering. While waiting for their food, Mila and Toby joked and reminisced about people they used to know and the compound they’d grown up in. To me, Mila had made the compound sound like a cross between a prison and a concentration camp, but now she and Toby made the place out to be some sort of happy land.

  Around him, Mila didn’t swear. She lost the sarcastic sense of humor I loved so much, and her comments were over-the-top optimistic and encouraging, making her come off like a positivity coach jacked up on caffeine and Jesus. Every word that came out of her mouth made her seem like more of a stranger to me.

  “I’m so glad you called,” Toby reiterated. “For two reasons. One, it was really nice to see you again and I’m hoping we can do this more often. Two, I have a huge favor to ask.”

  “Name it,” Mila replied without hesitation, pushing her plate away.

  “Since I’m in Seattle for a few months, I rented a house. It’s a cute little bungalow not too far from here. Anyway, it felt kinda lonely without Mom and Grandma, so I adopted a kitten.”

  “Awww,” Mila gushed. “You did? What kind?”

  He smiled and tugged his phone out of his pocket, thumbing it on. “I don’t know. Grey and white, shorthair, blue eyes. She was a rescue, so they couldn’t tell me much about her breed. They had it listed as mixed. Here’s a picture.” He held his phone out to Mila. She took it and her entire face lit up as she studied the picture.

  I didn’t even know she liked cats. Did she like cats? Was this just more acting?

  “She’s precious. How old?”

  “Four months. I named her Daisy after your—”

  “After my sweet old Daisy. Oh, Toby. Man, I miss that cat.” Mila’s expression fell. “She passed away a few months after you left. That was the hardest time of my life.”

  “I’m so sorry. I know how much she meant to you.”

  “Both of you were important to me. I felt so alone.” Mila passed him back his phone and something flickered across her face. Remorse? Sorrow? I couldn’t tell. “What’s the favor?”

  He pocketed the cell. “Kitten sitting. Our company has a tradeshow in Orlando this weekend. I need to fly out on Wednesday, and I’ll be back late Sunday night. I know it’s a big ask, but I don’t really know anyone in the area. I’ve researched some boarders, but Mom said kittens usually end up sick from those places. Daisy’s so little, I’d rather not expose her to anything if I don’t have to.”

  “You fly out this Wednesday?” Mila asked.

  “Yeah. I know it’s short notice, and I wouldn’t ask you if I had anyone else…”

  “Of course, I’ll do it,” she replied.

  Toby looked as shocked as I felt. Sure, they were old friends, but how well did they know each other now? I wondered what Toby would think if he knew the project that had kept Ms. Sweet and Innocent busy involved trying to pin two homicides on him.

  “You will?” he asked.

  “Yes. I mean, you named her Daisy, and she’s adorable. How can I resist?”

  Resisting would be the intelligent thing to do. Mila had come to the fire station because she was afraid for her life. The killer was still at large, nothing had changed, yet she was willing to leave the safety the club offered to watch a kitten? Morse was going to flip his fucking lid when he found out.

  Reminding myself it wasn’t my problem, I kept my mouth closed and went back to studying my soda glass like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

  Toby let out a breath and slumped back in his seat. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am. Thank you, Amelia.”

  Her smile widened. “Of course. What are friends for?”

  “I can give you a ride to my place Wednesday morning before I hit the airport.”

  She patted him on the hand. “We can work the details out later. For now, I want to hear more about your mom. You said she’s gardening again? I’ve been thinking about taking that up, but I can’t even seem to keep a house plant alive.”

  “I’m sure she’d love to help you. Maybe give you some pointers? Share a few secrets?”

  Mila wrinkled her nose. “She always was a good teacher, but I think, for me, gardening would require more of a miracle than a lesson.”

  Toby laughed. “We’ll pray for you, then.”

  Their conversation veered off again as I fought the desire to text Morse and tell him what was going on. I wanted to ask my club brother if his cousin even prayed, but her life was none of my business. In addition, Morse hadn’t found anything shady on Toby. Maybe he was clean, and he and Mila belonged together. The way he looked at her made it clear he thought so.

  Maybe I just needed to back off and let Mila be whoever the fuck she was.

  Resigned to stay out of her business, I did my best to tune out the rest of their conversation. When it was time to go, the two hugged again and like a dutiful guard dog, I followed Mila out of the restaurant. Still battling with myself, I held my tongue for as long as I could. But by the time we crossed the road, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to say something.

  “Who the hell are you, Amelia?” If he could call her that, so could I, damnit.

  She frowned at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “When you’re around that guy, you’re a totally different person. I’m just wondering which version of you is real.”

  She looked away. “I can be whomever I need to be.”

  “Clearly,” I said with a snort. “But who the fuck are you?”

  “If you haven’t figured that out by now, I can’t help you.” She sounded irritated, like she couldn’t believe I’d even ask. Like I didn’t have the goddamn right to know.

  The woman was unreal. Frustrated, I threw my hands in the air. “So… you don’t know, either?”

  “Sure. We can go with that. Fine. I don’t know who I am. Whatever makes you feel better, Hound.”

  And now she was placating me. She obviously didn’t want to argue, but I needed answers. Changing tactics, I said, “I can’t believe you’re gonna stay at his house.”

  She eyed me. “Funny. He voiced the same concerns about me staying with a bunch of bikers.”

  “Veterans,” I corrected. “And we potentially put ourselves at risk by taking you in. We help people. It’s not like we’re one-percenters or something.”

  “Like what?”

  “One-percenters. Bikers who commit crimes and engage in illegal activities. Everything we do is on the up and up. Why are you staying at his house?”

  “If you were eavesdropping enough to home in on that little gem, I’m sure you overheard the reason as well.” Her gaze darted away again.

  “Kitten sitting?”

  “Bingo.”

  “Bullshit. I don’t buy it.”

  She gave me another shrug. “Cool. It has nothing to do with you, so…”

  I’d had enough of her half-truths and blasé attitude and needed real answers. Grabbing her by the wrist, I drew her to a stop, facing me. “What the fuck did I do to you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Then what’s up? Why are you locking me out?” She started shaking her head, but I cut her off. “And don’t deny it. At least respect me enough to tell me the goddamn truth.”

  That gained us a few looks from people walking by, but in true Seattle style, they kept walking.

  Mila frowned. “I just don’t want to complicate things between us.”

  That didn’t make a lick of sense. “So, you’re avoiding me?”

  “I’m going back to Ontario soon.”

  Was that why she was pulling away? Why she was afraid
to open up to me? “They still haven’t found the killer.”

  “I don’t care. I can’t stay here.”

  “Because of me?” I asked, confused. But why else couldn’t she stay? As far as I could tell, her relationship with me was the only thing that had changed. We’d had sex, once, and now she was willing to put herself back in danger to get away from me?

  She sighed. “Because of a lot of things. Look, there’s so much shit you don’t know about me.”

  “Then tell me,” I pleaded. “For fuck’s sake, just be real with me.”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know. You think you do, but you don’t.”

  She tried to turn away, but I held firm, refusing to let her go. “Try me.”

  Her gaze shot to my hand, and something that looked a lot like resolve settled over her features. “You think you can handle it? Fine. But remember, I warned you.”

  I waited, wondering what she was about to share that had her acting like she was about to blow up my world.

  “I… I’m not just a teacher. I’m like a… a courtesan.”

  A what? “Is that like some kind of royalty or something?”

  She chewed on her lip and shook her head. Her gaze darted right and left, as if afraid she’d be overheard. “No. I’m…” She seemed nervous, scared, and so damn hesitant it took everything in me to wait patiently and not shake the answer out of her. “I’m… kinda like Shari.”

  Like Shari how? Had she even met Shari? What had I told her about the club whore? “A good cook?” I hazarded.

  Mila withered. “No. I’m like Shari, but… I get paid. Well.”

  My jaw dropped. I had to be mishearing her. “You’re a fuckin’ prostitute?”

  Hurt flashed in her eyes before her walls slammed up again, blanking her expression. “Forget it.”

  I couldn’t forget it. We’d come too far now, and I needed the truth. “Do you fuck guys for money or not?”

  Her lips pressed into a hard line, and her face turned a shade of red I’d never seen before. Eyes narrowed, fists clenched at her sides, she spat, “Yes. You happy now?”

 

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