by Rose, Aubrey
The bigger question was, why me? What had Hutch seen in me after he’d come to my rescue that had made him agree to this date in the first place? I’d been called pretty before, even beautiful, but men say a lot of things when they want to get their hands on your goodies. And I certainly had goodies to spare, curves and then some.
Men seemed to like my body way more than I did. All my life advertising and magazines and TV shows had been telling me otherwise. So whenever someone did take an interest, or I saw a hot guy on the arm of the sort of girl that looked like she belonged in a magazine or on a TV show, get caught giving me a lingering sideward glance, I still struggled to believe it.
But even if it wasn’t true, if my conditioning was wrong and TV had been lying to me all these years, even if I was genuinely pretty, I knew I was nothing special. There were plenty of pretty girls out there of all shapes and sizes and Hutch was the sort of man who could take his pick.
Why me?
I was a shifter, but there were plenty of women in his pack. And if not there, then he could apparently sniff them out a mile away. Dogs. Was that it? Was he slumming it by being with me?
“Hutch?”
He had been waiting patiently while I was lost in thought.
“You’re back! What’s up?”
“Am I a dog?”
“I wouldn’t call you a dog, no.”
He’d chosen his words carefully, a little too carefully for my liking.
“You wouldn’t say it. But, would you think it?”
“I... we probably throw it around a bit too carelessly around the fights. You have to understand it’s a pretty rough place. It’s not a nice word. It’s like calling someone… no, I wouldn’t think anyway. Dogs are those who turn their back on their pack and their heritage. You weren’t raised in a pack. You were raised by…”
“My dad. If I’m a dog, what does that make him?”
He growled and spread his hands wide in supplication. This seemed to be the sort of trap he didn’t know how to fight his way out of. Unfortunately, his silence only made things worse.
“If my dad was standing in line tonight—”
“Your dad isn’t one of us.”
“But if he was. If he was a dog. Would you have pulled him out and humiliated him in front of his date like you did Mr. Cobb or whatever his name was? Why? What gives you the right to judge him just because he wanted electricity and clean running water for his daughter, for her to actually have an education rather than fighting in the dirt or… or… whoring herself out to strangers because...” I stopped, aware that I was making a scene and insulting him to boot.
“Go on.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
Hutch shrugged.
“No offense taken. Look, you look at us and you see whatever it is you see. I don’t care. I’m still here, with you, in a fancy restaurant, about to eat a steak which costs more than enough to feed a family for a week. So whatever I see, and whatever you see, can’t be all that bad. We’re just—”
“Different.”
“Like Romeo and Juliet,” he said.
“They both killed themselves.”
“Seriously? Well I guess I don’t have to read it now.”
I grinned as his joke broke the tension. The waiter came back with our meals.
“A salad?” Hutch looked at my plate with disdain as he began to demolish his steak. “Why would you do that to yourself? You’re a carnivore.”
“Omnivore. And I’m on a diet, that’s why.”
“Why? You look fine.”
“Because maybe I don’t want to look fine, Mr. Hardbody. Maybe I want to look better than fine. Which brings me all the way back to… Why me? Why not, I don’t know, Gina?”
He thought about that for a minute as he picked at bits of steak that were stuck between his teeth. Not exactly etiquette for this kind of establishment, but I decided to let it slide. He was a rock star, after all. People could get over it.
“Gina’s alright. I prefer my women a little more… well this place isn’t really her scene for a start. She’s a great fuck, don’t get me wrong, but yeah, outside of that, there’s not a lot going on between us.”
I almost choked on my wine. I guess it wasn’t exactly earth shattering news that the two of them had slept together, but I had to admit I still felt a twinge of jealousy.
“So when did you two… you know?”
“When? Oh, most recently? Last night after you kicked me out. She’d already hooked up with some guy from—”
I took some small comfort from the look of genuine shock on Hutch’s face when I threw the remains of my wine at him.
“What the hell?” he growled.
“Are you serious?”
“What? It’s not like we’re mates or anything. You turned me down. I didn’t push it. I went back home. Gina was available. We fucked.”
“I’d just asked you out on a date!”
“Yeah, for the day after. It’s not like I was planning to bring her along.”
The fact that Hutch didn’t seem to have the slightest inkling about what I was upset about made me even angrier. The man was just… ARGH! I couldn’t think of a word for how infuriating he was. This in turn made me angrier still.
“What about tonight?” I asked.
“What about tonight?”
“Would we be here now if you didn’t think we were going to fuck later?”
“You don’t want to fuck me?”
“Of course I want to fuck you!” I hissed, leaning forward. “Every woman here wants to fuck you! I’m pretty sure our waiter wants to fuck you!”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Because we don’t just do what we want. When we want. To whoever we want. We’re not…”
“Animals?” Hutch grinned and popped the last piece of steak in his mouth.
It was only then that I noticed how quiet the restaurant had become. I risked a look around and every single diner, and most of the staff, was staring at us. A couple even had their cell phones out to film the scene. I wanted to crawl away and die.
“I want to go home. I’m going home.”
“Sure.”
Hutch pulled a crumpled wad of banknotes out of his pocket and dropped them on the table.
“That was a good steak. Maybe not eighty bucks good, but the best I’ve had in a while. We should come here again.”
“This was obviously a mistake,” I said outside of the restaurant. “I’m just going to go home.”
“I didn’t think it was that bad. I’ve been on worse dates.”
I stopped and stared at him, then let out a deep sigh.
“Yeah,” I admitted, “me too.”
“And you sure you don’t want to? You know...”
Yes. No. I don’t know. I just shook my head. He stroked the side of my arm, and the terrible pangs of desire that ran through me made me recoil. I didn’t want the animal coming out of me again.
“Natalie,” he said. “Being a dog isn’t just about leaving the pack. It’s about pretending you’re someone else. It’s about turning your back on a part of you. It’s about locking a piece of yourself away. You can have me. Tonight. In an alley or in your bed. No strings attached. It’d be good. I’m good. But you’re what? Saving yourself for someone you might never meet? You’re the only one telling yourself you can’t have any fun while you wait for that guy to come along.”
He ran his fingers through his hair. I could tell that whatever point he was trying to make wasn’t coming across.
“Look. Last night. When those men were all over you? You could have turned into something else. You could have made them regret their decision to get out of bed that morning. You could have been proud and strong and fierce and there’s no one telling you not to be. Instead you choose to be—”
“A dog?”
Hutch spread his hands, standing over me like a hulking wall of muscle. You said it. Not me.
I was sure I’d been ang
rier at some point in my life, but at that moment I couldn’t remember when. How dare he blame me for being the victim? I balled my fists and brought them down on his chest as hard as I could, knowing he wouldn’t even feel it. At least it was satisfying to me.
“You.”
Again I brought both hands down against him.
“Don’t.”
And again.
“Know.”
“Anything.”
“About.”
“Me.”
And then I was spent. My hands hurt and I thought I might have pulled something in my shoulder. It was hard work staying mad at the ridiculously gorgeous man in front of me. We were so different that he might as well be an alien. But I had to admit that, no matter how ill-judged his words were, they had created some doubts that were beginning to gnaw at me.
He pulled me into his arms and held me, held me tight. Tears pushed up at the backs of my eyes and I gritted my teeth. Maybe it was time for me to stop blaming myself for being the victim. I didn’t know what was right anymore. I pulled away and he let me go, and the crazy mix of desire and anger inside of me quieted down.
“Hutch.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. He looked confused, as though he wasn’t certain what he was apologizing for. I breathed in deeply, and then exhaled.
“Hutch, don’t sleep with her tonight. Don’t sleep with anyone else, okay?”
He looked at me and didn’t say anything. That was good enough... for now.
“And you can come and pick up your bike tomorrow, but not early. I like to sleep in on Sundays. Come and pick up your bike and take me somewhere else, okay? Somewhere you want to go.”
“Sure,” Hutch said, and a wave of relief came over me. He wasn’t mad. He looked as relieved as I felt. I flagged down a cab.
“Hey, Nat?”
I turned to see Hutch waiting on the curb, expectantly.
“Does this mean I don’t get a kiss goodnight?”
I smiled and closed the cab door.
“See you tomorrow,” I said.
If he wanted a kiss, he’d have to come back to get it.
Chapter Ten
Hutch
“Are you bringing me to another fight?”
We pulled up to the front of the warehouse on my motorcycle, and Natalie’s hands gripped me a bit more tightly as the warehouse came into view. I chuckled.
“Not quite,” I said. Although there might be a couple of fights after the sun went down, on normal days this was just Pack City. I drove around the warehouse to the lot where all of the trailers were laid out in rows and pulled up near my own little spot.
“Home sweet home,” I said. Natalie hopped off the back. She wore jeans this time – the girl’s learning. And I’m learning I might have to get a car if I ever want to see her in a dress again. When I think about the first night I saw her, her dress clinging to her sweaty thighs… damn. Maybe it would be worth it...
“This is where you live?”
Natalie’s jaw was hanging so far off her face it looked like I had knocked it off myself in the middle of the fighting ring. I turned to the place where our pack made its home and looked at it through her eyes.
Crowded was the first word that came to mind. Some of the pack lived in tents, still, some in trailers. Some in tents next to trailers. The homes all butted up against each other in a circular pattern, the rows curving around the parking lot. There were a few kids racing each other down the street between the trailers. A couple of guys sparring on a makeshift fight mat, lots more watching them, beers in hand. Outside the trailer right next to mine, a lady was taking down the wash from the laundry line strung up on a hanger I’d made of scrap two by four’s.
Sure, it was a bit smushed together, but we made it work.
“Yeah, this is where I live. Nice, huh? And you ain’t even seen the inside.”
I pulled Natalie up the steps of the trailer.
“And you thought your garage was full of stuff,” I said. My trailer was packed to the gills with all of the necessities. The walls were covered with old photos of the previous owner’s family. I’d never got around to taking them down. I pushed a crate of empty beer bottles under the one side table.
“There’s a table and uh, this here’s the bed, and, uh, yeah. I thought we could have dinner here.”
“Is there a kitchen?” Natalie turned around, looking for whatever she imagined a kitchen might look like. It didn’t take long to see that there wasn’t. I mean, the place was one big room.
“There’s a fridge right next to your knee,” I said, pointing. She pulled at the handle and the cooler slid out from the wall. I reached down and grabbed two beers from my stash.
“This isn’t a kitchen,” Natalie said. “This is a fridge full of beer.”
“Sure, yeah,” I said, snapping the caps off of the beer bottles and handing her one, taking a big gulp of mine. “Kitchen is over—well, I’ll show you where it is. One sec.” I finished off my beer in a single chug and grabbed another. She shook her head. We turned to leave and were stopped by three little heads poking into the trailer.
“Hutch!”
“Hutch, you’re back!”
“Hutch, we have to show you something!”
The three boys tumbled over themselves in the trailer entryway. I shooed them out and helped Natalie down the steps.
“Who’s she, Hutch?”
“Are you joining the pack?”
“Is she your girlfriend?”
“Calm down, cubs,” I said. “This is Natalie. She’s just visiting for today. Natalie, these are the cubs. I don’t remember their names.”
“Aw, Hutch!”
“It’s Chris and Aiden and Dax,” Dax said. He was the littlest one at five years old. “Don’tcha remember, Hutch?”
“Right, right,” I said. I patted him on the head. “I remember now.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Natalie said. I could see her suppressing a grin at the rambunctious little kids.
“Look at what we can do, Hutch!” Aiden said. Without waiting for me to reply, the kids went running out into the middle of the street between the trailers. Dax went running down to the end of the block and Chris and Aiden stood ten feet or so apart.
“You watching, Hutch?” Dax’s little voice yelled from far away.
“Go ahead!” I yelled back, giving him a thumbs up.
The kid took off at a dead sprint down between the rows of trailers. As he ran, people working stopped and turned to see him go. For five years old, he was fast. And then I realized why he was running so fast: he was half-shifted, riding that edge between wolf and human.
Aiden was crouched down in front of Natalie and me, and Dax came running at him. I thought for sure the kid would plow into him and they would both be ground meat. But no. Dax took a running leap up, and Aiden was ready. He had both hands cupped together, and Dax jumped right into his waiting hands without missing a beat. Aiden launched him upwards and Dax soared up into the air.
Natalie gasped as Dax somersaulted and changed into wolf form at the top of his arc. I could see the brief shift, the claws and fur flashing, but then he was human again, finishing out his somersault. Chris caught him as he came down and they tumbled to the ground together.
“Hutch, d’you see that, Hutch?”
“Dang, Chris, you were supposed to catch me before I hit the ground.”
“You shifted!”
“So what?”
“So I’m not catching your wolf ass, you’ll scratch me!”
“Will not!”
“Will too, you dumb puppy!”
“I’m not a puppy!”
Dax snarled and jumped at Chris, tackling him around the legs. I went over and plucked the five-year-old up by his shirt, pulling him off of the older boy. He dangled in the air, his fists still swinging ineffectually at his friend.
“Looking good, boys,” I said.
“You think we can do it for the next fight, Hutch?” Dax said, still
hanging at the end of my arm. “We almost got it perfect that time.”
“How can you get a running start in the ring?” I asked. Dax frowned and looked at the other two kids.
“Hey, we have to do it so we can do it in the ring!” he said. “Let’s try it again but smaller.”
“Bye, Hutch!”
“Your girlfriend’s pretty!”
“Don’t you dare steal her,” I said, laughing. “You keep practicing!”
“We will!” the three boys echoed in chorus.
I took Natalie’s hand and walked away with her. She looked back over her shoulder at the boys.
“They sure do love you,” she said.
“You’re the only one who doesn’t,” I said, winking. Natalie flushed and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder tightly, kissing her on her temple. “Nah, they’re good kids. Especially Dax.”
“So where are we going?”
“To find a kitchen,” I said. “Remember, I promised you dinner.”
“Oh! I thought you only drank beer to survive.” Natalie took a sip from her beer bottle, smiling slyly.
“Well, of course that’s the main part of my food pyramid. But you’re a guest.”
“So you’re going to find me a kitchen and cook me dinner?”
“Well, I’ll find a kitchen at least.” I smiled.
We rounded the last trailer and came around the corner. Natalie’s eyes went wide as she looked up at the structure in front of us.
“What on earth...”
“It’s the kitchen,” I said. “And the dining hall. And the living room. But yeah, come on in!”
The kitchen was in the biggest tent in the whole lot: it looked on the outside a lot like a three-ring circus tent. I’d helped put it up when we’d first moved into this lot. The walls were made of burlap and construction fabric, so that the wind could blow through the walls and not knock it over.
We walked in through the front opening into the tent and a hubbub of activity. On our left was what I’d called the living room. Which it was, kind of. Dozens of hammocks hung from every pole in the place, and every one of them was occupied with kids or people napping off their lunchtime beers. A few guys were having a poker game on one of the tables scattered through the place. One girl was slumped over a beanbag, trying to read, and some kids were playing with Lego cars on the floor.