“How does one even relapse from near-death?” I ask my little brother.
He glares back up at me from under his fringe. “Shut up, you should just be grateful that I still care.” He says flippantly. He turns around from me, and walks out of the room. I watch him leave and frown, not sure I understand his mood. Thane looks over his shoulder at me and stops his cooking to walk over to me. Glancing back in the direction Hooper came from before looking back at me.
“You’re kidding right?” Thane says at me.
“Excuse you?”
“You think it’s okay to joke about what happened to you, when you had everyone around here worried, especially you’re brother. You’re only brother.” Thane says putting his hands on his hips. “Show some damn respect, if not for yourself, for him. Ellie,” He pauses “Hooper,” He says correcting himself, and calling him by the name I call him. “is a hearts and flowers kind of guy.” Thane says back at me.
“What is that even supposed to mean?” I ask him.
“It means, he needs the whole emotional experience. Not jokes and pats on the shoulder about being alive. He loves you, you’re his family, you need to address the issues between you if you’re every going to have a real relationship again.”
I nod my head and Thane heads back into the kitchen around the same time Hooper walks back out into the room. He looks like he’s ready to give me a serve. But I don’t let him, I launch myself at Hooper and fling my arms around him, squeezing him tight. “I am grateful bro, that you care and that I survived this. I never met to freak you out.” I say as he worms his way out of my hold and we go back to hugging it out. I pat his back as we part. I’ve wanted to hug him since I woke up, but there were too many wolves, too many people. Too much attention. It was uncomfortable to be the center of attention for once. Which makes me realize, if I was with Bg Sommers, I’d be the center of attention, all the time. I shake my head, not too happy with that thought and the fact I hadn’t figured that out before my little trip to New Orleans. “I’m glad you’re here. I still need you in my life little brother.” I say grasping Hooper’s shoulder. “Turns out I’m hopeless at this lycan gig. We’ll talk later.” I say nodding my head at Thane. Hooper bursts out laughing at me. “Hey, where’s Phelan, I haven’t seen him this whole time.” I ask looking form Hooper to Thane.
“He’s staying with friends, thought you could use the space, given he dragged you here.” Than replies focusing on flipping some burger meat onto a hot plate.
“Friends huh? He’s settling into life in New York pretty good. Okay, well, let me know, I wanted to thank him. Proper like.” I say watching Thane who seems content to focus on cooking us up burgers. My mind can’t help but wonder if Phelan’s friends are Bg Sommers and Paris D’arenberg. He’s not officially part of the either of the packs she is associated with, I don’t think, the Breukelen her home pack or the Manhattan Maen werewolf pack, she married into, and life has returned to normal again, with me thinking about the wolf I can’t have. I shake my head, I know I need to let her go. I know it, but that doesn’t mean I can. She’s like a habit to me now.
“You know it’s impressive,” Hooper says snapping me out of my thoughts on Bg Sommers.
“What is?”
“That you healed completely, no scars at all on you.” I could tell him he wasn’t looking deep enough, that there were scars. That I had lots of little scars, more so since becoming a lycan. They just weren’t physical, but what good would that do? I’m the one who came out of the attack that turned both of us into lycans, the better for it. I got the alpha abilities and accepted into a werewolf pack. Hooper did it harder, and he did it with me by his side. I’m glad we’re back on speaking terms, joking even. This is a big step for both of us.
“Like Teflon,” I reply back at him as I hear Thane switch off the hotplates. “Nothing sticks to me.” Which is probably also why I’m always permanently alone. In a pack but alone and feeling alone, except when Bodil’s posse gather around me like they just did. Jesus, how fucking needy am I?
“I’ll say.” Hooper retorts. “They did everything man, I felt pretty fucking hopeless in my old apartment. They had everything covered, even notifying your work that you were out of action. Yeah, the strip club right?” Hooper answers me.
“Yeah, Wonderland.”
“I think she was the manager or something, doesn’t matter, they got you covered. Your work were incredibly understanding, said to take all the time you needed.”
Of course she did. My boss, has a good heart and I’m the bastard who doesn’t deserve it.
“Foods up!”
I watch Hooper vault over the himself and the armrest of the chair he’s on to get to Thane and the burgers. My life, but I don’t feel like it is most of the time. Maybe Addison attacking me was a good thing. Maybe it’s my wake up call to get my shit in order and finally, actually, really, live my life. I should see her. I need to see her. Yeah, I need to see her, again.
5
The front door opens and we’re starring at each other, both of us in surprise. Her black hair is down and over her shoulders, down almost to her waist. Blue eyes wide and locked on me, her pink lips part in a surprised opening. She’s already taken her make up off for the night. Which makes her look even younger than her age. My heartbeats like it’s dancing in a carnival. I feel so damn happy to see her again. Trinity Montez, part owner and manager of Wonderland Strip Club, my boss, my intended pack mate, disguised as a casual love interest, hidden in plain sight right before my naive eyes. Trinity probably wasn’t expecting me of all people, to turn up on her doorstep to her home. We’ve only met at our workplace. Plus she was told by my fellow wolves, that I was out of action for a few days. Or god knows exactly what Boden told her really. He didn’t give me the specifics.
“Trinity Montez stuck for words, that doesn’t seem like you.” I smile at her making her eyes shift and her focus adjust again. Like I’ve just snapped her out of a haze.
She smiles back at me and hurls herself at me, jumping up on me. Arms in my hair, mouth on my mouth, pressing down hard, opening mine up.
My tongue, thrusts into her mouth and taking the taste of her from deep within her throat. Her breasts crush into my chest, I can feel her nipples through her thin t-shirt, pebbling against the hardness of my chest. My hands are on her, feeling her shape, and picking her up as she climbs up me, wrapping her legs around my waist. She’s the sweetest oxygen I could ever need. My body heat, and her softness, our desperation to get as close as we can get to one another, its like fire to this oxygen. Sees me pick her up and slam her back against the wall of the house, beside the doorway.
I break for air and Trinity attacks my jaw with her lips, her tongue and teeth. I don’t think she intends to stop. I moan, I’ve wanted to feel this for so damn long. “Trinity, baby,”
“I could do this all night long.” She says breathlessly back at me as her mouth keeps busy on my skin, pulling at my t-shirt collar.
“Thank god for that. Cause you might have to.” I mutter heatedly, and pull her back off the wall and carry her, still wrapped around my waist and into the house. Kicking the door closed behind me.
At least, that’s how I see the scene unfolding as I drive over to her house. I hope it will go that way. That perhaps, now I realize I’m not in love with Bg Sommers, that I can focus on Trinity Montez the way she deserves to be focused on. I can apologize for ignoring her all this time, and plead my case for being a dumbass that doesn’t get how to get the girl and all of that. I’ll tell her how this last week events, whilst graphically violent, have refocused how I should sort shit out of my life. And perhaps given me a reason to try a life with her, if she’ll have me.
I pull up outside Trinity house. I texted my friend Cooper Hoek for the address. I know Trinity has a house mate. But I’ve never been to her house. Come to think of it, I’ve never been invited around and I’ve never asked. So maybe we’re both at fault. Maybe we’re both holding back on this at
traction. This visit could be the start of a beautiful relationship for us. Most of the time Trinity is at the club, so most of the time that’s where I am. When she works, I work detail to protect her and the patrons of course, as head bouncer. So it’s no wonder we’re always circling each other, talking. At the end of the night and our shifts, we have regular breakfasts out at 2am in the morning or some such time and we chat for hours. I feel good around Trinity, she makes you feel happy, without much effort.
I step out of the Camaro and hot step it up to her doorstep, the lights are on in the house, so I know I’m not waking her up or anything. Besides, the hours we keep are odd and Trinity’s used to being up late.
Taking a deep breath I knock on the door. The front door opens and Trinity eyes go wide, we’re starring at each other. Her black hair is down and over her shoulders, down almost to her waist. Blue eyes lock on me, her pink lips part in a surprised opening. She seems to hesitate and then says “Booker.” Just the one word. The one name. My name, her whole focus.
I smile back at her. “Hi Trinity, thought I’d drop by let you know how things were, you know, with me.” I say quickly to explain myself.
She nods her head. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well.” She seems a little awkward standing there in the doorway. “Um, come on in, it’s cold out here.” She says walking back into the house. I walk past her and she closes the door and leads me to the living room where the lights are on.
“Sit, um, tell me, what the hell has been happening.” She says sitting down sideways on the sofa. I sit opposite her mirroring her body language. “Boden dropped by and tried to feed me some bullshit about you being in accident, which I didn’t buy for a second. He really needs to work on his lying skills. Do you want a drink a something?”
Or something alright. “A drink would good.” I state at her as she stands up and heads to the open plan, a joining kitchen space. I get up and follow her to the bench top.
“Whiskey neat, right?” She says over her shoulder rummaging through her cupboards for glasses.
“You remember.” I say feeling special.
“I’m a bartender, I always remember the drinks of my patrons.” She smirks producing a whiskey bottle, good stuff, and uncapping it. She’s not really a bartender, she just likes working bar most nights. Makes me think she misses being around people.
“Hey, don’t make me drink alone. I’m only having one if you are too.” I say back at her lightly. I hope I don’t sound as awkward as I feel. It’s like being in high school again and wanting to tell a girl you like her for the first time ever. Terrifyingly nervous.
“Sure, I can do a night cap.” She says pouring whiskey into her glass and going to the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of cola and mixing herself a drink. She hands me my drink from across the kitchen bench top.
“To being alive.” I say raising my glass at her.
“To living through this.” She says cheering her glass with me. We both take a sip of our drinks. “Okay, so tell me what the hell is going on with you? I actually got worried you know, genuinely freaked out. Especially when Boden wouldn’t tell me where you were.”
My eyes widen “You tried to find me?”
“I tried asking your so called friends, but they weren’t saying shit.” Trinity replies honestly. “But I get it, they were just being super protective of you.” She says dangling a carrot before me. She knows I’m holding out on her and have been for some time.
“Right well, first off, my names not Booker as such.” I say back at her.
“I know that, I see the pay slips,” Trinity replies. “Benico Parish.” She smarts back at me. “Would you prefer to be called by your name, Benico?”
“Uh, no, I mean. That’s the name that was given to me, but I feel like I earned the name Booker and it’s my actual name, so no.”
“So why bring it up?” Trinity asks me over the top of her glass.
I sigh heavily and pick up my glass. “Because I’m nervous as hell here, and I haven’t done this before, and you mean a hell of a lot to me, and I want to get this right, because there are things you need to know, things I need to say to make things right between us.”
“What are you talking about Booker? Things aren’t wrong between us. I’m not angry at you. Things happen in life, and I’m just grateful that, you’re okay.”
I watch her. I’m grateful too and I need to tell her that. “I’m grateful too Trin, I mean if I’d died with all this stuff unsaid…”
“All this stuff unsaid?” She repeats back at me. Perfect opening for me but she goes on. “Yeah I guess there is some stuff to say.”
“What?”
“Works both ways, Booker.” Trinity says taking a sip of her drink and I find myself frowning back at her.
“What are you saying?” I ask with a feeling of trepidation coming over me.
My ears prick up as the sound of other footsteps emerge in the house. We both look to the direction in which they’ve come from. The back of the house. A tall, broad shouldered male, at least six foot six, walks out into the room and nods his head at me as he walks into the kitchen, in just his blue jeans. He’s all definition. Short brown hair and dark brown eyes.
I can’t stop staring at him. Because I know that is not Cooper Hoek, Trinity’s housemate’s boyfriend. And I’m unaware of them having a third housemate. He bends down, around Trinity, because he practically towers over her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he kisses her neck before straightening up again. A not so subtle way to mark his territory and inform me of his intentions. My nostrils flare and my jaw tightens, and that’s when I pick up the scent of fur. He’s a god damn werewolf!
“We doing shots?” He asks breaking the silence and looking at the whiskey bottle.
“Booker this is Dylan,” Trinity says quickly as Dylan looks back at me.
“Her husband.” Dylan adds on picking up the whiskey bottle and necking it deliberately before us. “She forgets that part some times.” He doesn’t offer to shake my hand or any other friendly gesture. Which is somewhat understandable, given I dropped in on his wife at midnight and started drinking with her in her home.
“You’re married?” I ask stupidly unable to stop myself. I’d have never picked Trinity Montez for the marrying type. And I’ve never once since a wedding ring on her finger. I look at her fingers now and see one, sitting there. I look up at her wide eyed, does she only wear it when he’s around? What is the deal here? I’ve never seen this guy around her. Never heard of him by either her or Cooper.
“And with child.” Dylan adds on pulling Trinity into his side as smiles tightly and raises her drink to sip. This tells me this is not the way Trinity wanted this to come out.
“You’re pregnant?”
“No!” Trinity blurts out suddenly.
“No yet, but we are trying for a second aren’t we darling?” Dylan adds on taking another swig and comfortably resting his arm around Trinity waist. I can see Trinity tense up a little. Something is not quite right here, but I don’t know how to ask her without being rude and obvious and possibly embarrassing her. “We already have one, and that is proving quite handful.” Dylan goes on, seemingly unaware of Trinity being uncomfortable on the subject.
“We rushed into marriage.” Trinity says back at me by way of explanation.
“Because I knocked her up.” Dylan adds on. It’s only then that it occurs to me how unique a situation Trinity is in. Werewolf birth rates have been steadily declining for years. And I’ve heard it said, time and time again, how hard it is for a woman, werewolf or human to successfully deliver a baby werewolf pup to full term. This Dylan guy is not going to let Trinity go, whether she wants to or not. I wonder if she knows that.
“So how’d you end up in New York running a strip club?” I ask her as Dylan holds out the whiskey bottle to me. I watch him to see for any surprised reaction by my choice of words, but there is none. “Cheers,” I mutter snatching it off him and swigging straight from the b
ottle after him.
Lycan Page 3