by Paige Tyler
That left her grandma, her priest, or one of the school board’s counselors, but for reasons she’d explained to Jayden yesterday, she couldn’t talk to any of them. So she’d turned to the one person who had always been there for her—Ernesto. She’d sent him a text, saying she really needed someone to talk to. He’d immediately texted back the address for the warehouse, no questions asked.
Ernesto must have been waiting for her, because he opened the door before she could even try the knob.
“Hey there, pretty lady,” he said, flashing her a grin.
Selena returned his smile as he closed the door behind her. “Hey yourself, big guy. What’s this place all about? A new custom car franchise?”
He laughed. “No. I have something new in mind. I’m diversifying my portfolio, I guess you could say.”
“Well, color me impressed,” she said and meant it.
She looked around the lobby area. There were two doors that led to small offices and another that appeared to lead to the warehouse itself. Besides a counter like the kind a receptionist would sit behind, there were a few chairs for customers, some fake potted plants, and the usual office equipment. The clang and rattle of heavy machinery echoed from the back of the building, and she caught the smell of some kind of sharp chemical odor that made her nose tingle. What the heck were they making in there?
“You going to give me a tour of the place or what?” she asked.
He gave her a sheepish look. “It’s not exactly ready for the public yet. It’s a mess back there, and I wouldn’t want you getting all dirty walking around. How about a rain check?”
Something twinged inside her, and for a moment, Selena wondered if her friend was hiding something from her. But she quickly shook off the sensation. Ernesto was one of her best friends.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s sit down.”
She followed him across the lobby into the bigger of the two offices. It had a desk with a computer and not much else, unless you counted the expensive-looking leather couch.
“So, what did you want to talk to me about?” he asked as they took a seat. “It sounded important.”
She forgot about the stuff Ernesto might or might not be hiding from her and let out a sigh. “I got in a fight with some Locos today.”
Ernesto sat up straighter, his dark eyes narrowing. “What? Tell me who the hell it was. Did they hurt you?”
Selena shook her head. “I was out driving around, looking for one of my students. I found him over on Ferguson, hanging out with a group of Locos on that empty lot by the liquor store.”
Ernesto gave her a pleading look. “Please tell me you didn’t confront them by yourself? I told you to stop doing that, remember? Or at least to call me first, so I can confront them with you.”
“It’s not like I was planning to confront them. I was just going to talk to Ruben and get him to leave with me. But one of the girls there recognized me as the teacher involved in Pablo’s shooting, and it pretty much went downhill from there.”
“Did they hurt you?” he asked again.
“No,” she said. “In fact, it’s kind of the other way around. I’m not sure you’re going to believe this, but I came really close to killing some of them, and it’s freaking me out.”
Ernesto did a double take. “No way. You’re a tough woman and always have been, but there’s no way in hell you’d ever come close to killing someone. It’s just not in you.”
She stared down at her hands clasped in her lap. “Maybe before that shooting in my classroom,” she said softly. “Ever since then, it’s like I’m on the edge of losing control every minute of the day. I can feel the anger bubbling right below the surface, fighting to get out. And it got out today in that empty lot. I can’t explain what happened. One second, the lead gangbanger was about to hit me, and the next, I’m punching him out and throwing guys all over the place. The details are mostly a blur, but I hurt them. There was a point, as they were all running away, when I swear I wanted to chase them down and kill them. It took everything in me not to go after them.” She lifted her head to look at Ernesto. “It scared the hell out of me.”
Even now, the memory made her so furious, she felt like punching a wall. Her hands started to tremble, and she clenched them more tightly together.
Ernesto reached out and covered her hands with his, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Sometimes, when we get put into impossible situations, we do what’s necessary to survive. Those gangbangers were going to hurt you, maybe kill you. There was something inside you that stopped them. That part of you—the anger and violence—might be scary, but it kept you safe.”
She gave him a small smile. “While I’m glad I didn’t get hurt today, I still didn’t like losing control like that. I don’t want to do it ever again.”
“I know,” he said. “But the thing you have to remember is that while you might have thought about killing them, you didn’t. You did what you had to do, then you let them go. That’s what you need to focus on. In the end, you’re still you.”
When he said it like that, she believed him. She only hoped he was right. Leaning forward, she hugged him tightly. She still didn’t know how she’d gotten so lucky to have someone like Ernesto in her life. If she couldn’t have her brother, Ernesto was the next best thing.
A loud clanging noise from the back of the warehouse jarred her out of the moment, and she pulled back with a frown. “Maybe you should check and make sure nothing’s wrong. It sounds like something is falling apart back there.”
He frowned, wincing as the clanking in the warehouse came again. “You’re probably right. You want to come over for dinner tonight so we can talk some more?”
She smiled and got to her feet. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll have to take a rain check on that. I’m Becca’s wingwoman tonight. She has a blind date and doesn’t want to meet him alone. Jayden is coming, too, so it’s not all bad.”
Ernesto lifted a brow as he stood. “Seeing this guy two nights in a row. Sounds serious. Do I need to have a talk with him and see what his intentions are?”
She took a swing at his arm, but he skipped back out of reach. “Don’t you dare say a word to him! Yes, I’m seeing him two nights in a row. And yes, it’s serious. He’s the nicest guy I’ve met in a long time, so don’t mess it up.”
He held up his hands in self-defense. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But if he doesn’t turn out to be the guy you think he is and you need to vent, call me, okay? You know I’m always here for you.”
She swung her purse onto her shoulder. “I know.” There was another clang, louder this time. Crap, it sounded like World War III was about to break out in the warehouse. “Go and fix whatever trouble is going on back there. I have to go home and get cleaned up for the club anyway.”
Ernesto walked her to the door. “Before I forget. Did you catch the names of those guys who tried to attack you?”
“Why?” She frowned. “You aren’t going to do anything stupid, are you?”
He shook his head. “No. Like you’re always reminding me, I’m not in that world anymore. But I still know people. If I know who it was, maybe I can talk to someone and try to get them to leave you alone.”
Selena felt that funny sensation in her stomach again but ignored it. “The only name I know is the one in charge—Aaron. Have you ever heard of him?”
Ernesto thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. “No. But there’s no reason I should. Still, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Nothing stupid, right?”
He grinned as he opened the door for her. “Coming from you, that’s funny. Go have a good time tonight, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Is there anything you wouldn’t do?” she quipped.
He laughed. “You’re right. Don’t do anything I would do, either. In fact, don’t do anything at all.”
Selena made a show of rolling her eyes as she left. Outside, her nose tingled from the chemical stench rolling out from the war
ehouse and filling the air. She got in the car and quickly closed the door so it wouldn’t follow her. Whatever Ernesto’s new business venture was, she hoped it was worth it, because it stunk like a chemical factory.
Chapter 10
“Okay, I’m confused,” Zane said, eyes fixed on the small TV positioned on the wall behind the bar. “The lean, athletic guys can move as much as they want, but the big guys have to remain bent over with their hands on the ground without moving at all before the one in the middle gives the quarterback the ball, right?”
Brooks glanced up at the TV. The club was too loud to hear anything the analyst on ESPN was saying—even for a werewolf—so all they could do was sit there and watch the highlights of the weekend’s college football games. At that moment, the station was showing clips of the problems the Texas A&M Aggies were having with penalties, especially false starts.
He’d been trying to explain American football to Zane for years, but it was hopeless. Zane was overwhelmed by the number of rules, not to mention the endless penalties. Brooks supposed he couldn’t complain. Zane had been trying to teach him soccer for years, and Brooks didn’t understand a lick of it.
“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Brooks said. “The receivers, tight ends, and running backs are allowed to move before the center hikes the ball, but only one of them can do it at a time. Once everyone is set, they all have to remain that way for about a second prior to snapping the ball. The offensive linemen stand there motionless the entire time so they don’t give anything away.”
Zane looked at him. “Do you realize how stupid that sounds? Grown adults have to freeze like they’re doing the mannequin challenge instead of playing football?”
Brooks chuckled. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess it does seem kind of silly. Like I said, it’s a complicated game.”
“That’s one word for it,” Zane muttered. “Not the one I’d use, but you go ahead if it works for you.”
Brooks laughed again, taking a swig of beer as he glanced across the main dance floor to the club’s other bar, which ran the length of the opposite wall. He and Zane had gotten there early for his date with Selena and had been surprised to find it packed. That was surprising, since it was the middle of the week. An immense place, the interior was all black, right down to the Christmas decorations, but it was lit with purple, blue, and green lights that gave everything an almost luminescent quality.
He’d never been there before, since goth wasn’t his thing. But apparently, they also held themed nights at the club, because the stuff coming out of the DJ’s sound system seemed more like ’80s pop than goth. Then again, he’d been a toddler for a good portion of the ’80s, so he could be completely wrong about that.
The bartender came over with two more beers, even though neither he nor Zane had ordered them.
“Courtesy of the two ladies at the other end of the bar,” the man said, gesturing with his head in that direction.
Brooks glanced over to see two women seated there. Like a good portion of the people in the club, they were dressed in goth clothes, but instead of the traditional jet-black hair he’d always associated with goth, one had bright-blue hair, while the other had purple streaks. They held up their glasses of red wine in a toast.
Zane tipped his beer toward them in thanks.
“You going to head over there and thank them in person?” Brooks asked.
“Maybe later,” Zane said, setting his beer down on the bar.
That’s when Brooks realized he’d barely touched the one he’d ordered when they’d first gotten there. Considering they had work early tomorrow, not drinking might make sense, but since it was essentially impossible for werewolves to get drunk, not drinking usually meant something else.
“You okay?” he asked, pointing at the bottle.
His friend shrugged. “Dr. Saunders has me on a new drug regimen to try to stimulate muscle growth in my arm. He’s worried alcohol might inhibit the effectiveness of the drug, so I’m limiting my booze tonight.”
“That’s great!” Brooks sat up straighter. “I didn’t know he had you on something. Is it working?”
Zane snorted. “Calm down. This is about the tenth different drug regimen he’s tried, and none of them have worked so far. There’s no reason to think this one will, either. Nothing has worked, not one damn thing. Not that I thought there was ever a chance they would.”
Beside Brooks, Zane’s heart thumped like a drum, his body tensing as gold flashed in his eyes. His claws were starting to extend, too.
Shit.
“Zane, you’re losing it, man,” he said softly. “Chill out.”
His friend swallowed hard, his teeth grinding together as he took a slow deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out with a low rumble. It took a little while, but after some deep breaths, Zane’s rapid heartbeat slowed a bit more with each one. The glow faded from his eyes and his claws retracted.
“What’s going on, Zane?” Brooks asked after Zane had finally gotten it back together. “And don’t try telling me it’s about this drug regimen Dr. Saunders has you on. We both know that’s a crock. Is this about the hunters and the other prisoners who escaped? If it is, you can relax. If we don’t track them down, somebody else will.”
“We shouldn’t have to track them down,” Zane snarled, looking sideways at him. “Nobody should have to do it. They should have never gotten away in the first place. And they wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for me. They got away because I’m too fucked up to do my job.”
Brooks bit back a growl. “That’s bullshit.”
He should have seen this coming. After practically begging Gage to let him back in the field in some capacity, Zane had locked up the first time a hunter had shot at him with poison bullets. It was understandable, just not acceptable…for Zane, at least.
“I was useless out there today, Brooks. I could have gotten myself killed. Worse, I could have gotten you killed.” Jaw clenched, he stared down at the label on the beer bottle. “I’ve become a liability to the team. I think it’s time for me to walk away. Before it’s too late.”
Brooks did a double take. He didn’t like where this was going. “What are you talking about? You’d leave SWAT?”
“More like leave the force completely.” Zane shrugged. “I’m coming up due for my department physical fitness test soon. You and I both know I can’t pass it. The decision will most likely be out of my hands anyway.”
Brooks’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to hear this crap. “Don’t worry about that. You know Gage will cover for you. Hell, Deputy Chief Mason will, too. They’ll make sure you have all the time you need to recover.”
“I don’t want them to cover for me,” Zane snapped. “I’m nobody’s frigging charity case. If I can’t do the job, I don’t want to be on the team.”
“Shit, Zane. You almost died,” Brooks growled. “Why don’t you cut yourself some slack? You’ve been injured, and it’s going to take time for you to heal, but you’ll recover. You’re getting better every day.”
Zane shook his head. “No, I’m not. If anything, I’m getting weaker by the day. And I don’t just mean my arm. I tried to go jogging over the weekend, and I couldn’t make it a mile before I was on my knees coughing up blood.”
Brooks ground his jaw, pissed his friend had kept all this shit from him. “But Dr. Saunders is working on something to help, right? He hasn’t given up, so you shouldn’t, either.”
“Yeah, he’s trying. Can’t say he’s not.” Zane sighed. “But nothing he’s tried so far has come close to working, and some has made it worse. He gives me something my human body can handle, and my inner werewolf metabolizes it before it can do what it’s supposed to do. He gives me something designed specifically for my inner werewolf, and it nearly kills my human half. I’m getting tired of being his test dummy. Hell, I’m tired of all this.”
Brooks didn’t know how to respond to that. While he was trying to come up with something, ano
ther horrible thought hit him. “Wait a minute. When you talked about walking away, you don’t mean you’d leave the Pack, right? Tell me you’re not considering something that drastic?”
Zane didn’t say anything.
Anger surged through him. There was no way in the fucking world he was letting his friend—his packmate—walk away like that. But the moment he opened his mouth to unload on Zane, a delectable scent wafted across the crowded club.
Selena.
He inhaled deeply. Damn, her scent was even stronger and more powerful than it had been last night. He actually had to reach out and grab the edge of the bar to keep from falling off the seat.
Zane chuckled softly. “You really fancy this woman, don’t you?”
“Don’t try to distract me,” Brooks said, even as he looked through the crowded club, trying to find Selena. “You can’t drop a bomb like that about leaving the Pack and expect me to act like I didn’t hear it.” He looked at Zane. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid, not without talking to me first.”
His phone dinged, letting him know he had a text, but he ignored it, his eyes locked on Zane’s.
“Look, I don’t know what I’m going to do. All I know is that I can’t keep doing this,” Zane said. “I promise to talk to you before I do whatever it is I decide. But in the end, it will be my decision.”
Figuring that was the best he was going to get at the moment, Brooks pulled out his phone. The text was from Selena, saying she was there and waiting in a booth near the left side of the bar with Becca. He sent a quick text back, telling her he’d be there soon.