The apartment door bangs open. Ben sees us and stops. His eyes close in relief. “You’re okay.”
It takes me a second to link the dots.
“Why wouldn’t she be okay?” I move, setting Shav on the couch. I stand. “You fucking knew. You knew she was going to work at the Dollhouse and you let her?”
You let our Shavone get away.
“What do you mean ‘let’ me?” Grabbing my arm, Shavone tries to hold me back. Nothing will. I walk toward my cousin. I’m going to tear him apart.
Ben sighs. “Yeah, I knew. My plant inside tells me when there are new dolls and sends me their pictures.”
“You son of a bitch.” Two steps, I got him by the throat.
“Stop it! Stop it now, Nash!” Shavone screams, her little hand latches onto my fist. I can’t hit him without hurting her.
Ben breaks my hold. “She was safe, damn it! Just a fucking waitress. I would’ve said something if she were going to strip.”
I’m going to kill him. I wedge my arm free from Shav. Ben easily catches it at the same time that his fangs grow and his eyes glow.
“You want to rumble, cousin? Come on, alpha.”
“No!” Shav wedges, literally wedges her body between us. “Stop it.” Crazy witch is going to get herself killed if she keeps getting between pissed off wolves like this.
“I’m doing what I have to do, Nash. You can get as angry as you want at me, okay? Do you understand? Ben knowing. You knowing — it makes no difference. I already told you. I will do what I have to do to find Val.”
I lean down and breathe onto her lips. “For the love of God, forget about Val.”
She twitches like I slapped her. “How can you even say that to me?” She whispers. “She’s my sister.”
My beast roars in frustration.
“I want you to leave,” she crosses her arms over her chest.
“Too goddamn bad.”
“I mean it. We’ll talk when you’ve calmed down.”
I’m never going to calm down, baby.
Very slowly, I say, “I’m not going anywhere.” I step away from my cousin and drop into a chair. Just try to fucking move me.
Her bottom lip trembles. Blinking super fast, she tries not to cry. My Shav.
But you’re not mine, are you?
“Hey. Shhh. None of that.” Ben hugs her tight, rubs her back.
He doesn’t know yet that we lost her. She backs out of his arms pretty damn fast.
That should be a clue, cousin.
“I just need a hot shower and a good night’s sleep.” She blinks from Ben to me. “Alone,” she murmurs.
Don’t give up, my beast whispers.
“Tough shit,” I mumble. “You don’t get to push us away. This is a relationship.”
“No, it’s not.” She sniffles, her voice so soft. “This is Nash invading my apartment, my workspace and wanting to dictate my life.” She shakes her head, closes her eyes. “Last night was a mistake.”
“What?” Ben’s jaw drops.
Son of a bitch, my chest hurts. I’ve been in wolf wars and human wars. Saw my buddies killed, maimed beyond recognition, in both. Lost my mother and then my father. Nothing, nothing hurts as much as this. She’s chopping my heart into chunks and feeding them raw to my stomach.
Ben wipes his face with a hand. “There’s more to this than that damn job. What else happened tonight?” He turns to me. “What the fuck did you do?”
Not me. You let her go to that place.
“Nash and Enrique almost got into a wolf fight.”
Ben points at the hole in the wall. “That wouldn’t drive Nash out of his mind like this, wouldn’t push you away from us. What else?” Ben lightly touches her arm.
Shaking her head, she looks away.
“Talk to us, kitten.”
She takes a big breath, but still won’t look at either of us. “The dream about the wolf rescuing me from the creek?”
“Yeah?” Ben says.
“As I grew up, I chalked it up to childhood trauma — you know, being an orphan and not knowing where I came from.” She shakes her head. “But I’m convinced now that it actually happened.” She wipes at her cheeks and finally looks us in the eye. “I’m equally sure that the wolf who saved me was Enrique.”
Ben swallows and puts his hands on his hips. Now he’s getting it. “Enrique? You’re on a first name basis with the Native Prime now?”
I snort. She’s more than that with him.
“Yes,” she says.
Is she even aware what happened tonight? I doubt it. “You have feelings for him?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“I’m grateful, obviously. He saved my life.”
“You saved his, too.” Ben scowls.
Yeah. There’s that. Just another connection they share.
“That’s not all you feel for him, is it?”
I saw it. I saw you look at him like you’ve never looked me or even Dillon.
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
Her forehead wrinkles. “I’m not sure.”
Liar. Another piece of my heart hits the acid in my stomach.
Ben swallows, his eyes narrow and his forehead scrunches up. His face mirroring a fraction of my pain.
I scoop my keys from the coffee table and stand. No sense prolonging this torture. Even my wolf hangs his head in defeat. Without a word or looking back, I walk out the door. A few seconds later, I hear Ben’s boots follow me down the stairs.
Cognac. I need something strong to numb this gnawing ache eating its way through my soul, something to fill the place where my heart was a little over an hour ago. I pour myself a double at the bar in the great room.
Ben motions for one, too. I hand it to him. We sit. Neither of us speak for a good fifteen minutes.
“It was unreal. Shav was fascinated with his wolf. She’s seen wolves shift before. Seen me shift. It’s nothing new to her. This was different, like she was hypnotized by him or something. Never saw anything like it.” I take a healthy swig.
“They were kids when he bit her. Wolves can’t mate before puberty, can they?” Ben downs the rest of his drink and rises for another. I hold out my glass for more.
“I don’t know.” Damn. I wipe at my tired eyes. Alphas don’t cry.
“You were kissing her when I walked in.” Ben sounds hopeful.
I swallow half the cognac in the glass. “She didn’t want me to. She was pulling away.”
“Fuck.” Ben pinches the bridge of his nose. “I can’t believe this. How did we go from being on top of the world to the lowest losers in less than twenty-four hours?” He shakes his head, guzzles the rest of his glass. “You must have known on some level, Nash. This is why you never made a move. You hesitated because your wolf sensed she wasn’t meant for you.” He swallows hard. “Or me.” His voice is barely a whisper.
Or maybe I’m just a goddamn idiot for waiting so fucking long. I just let the only woman I’ve ever loved slip through my fingers.
I slam the glass down on the coffee table. “I gotta run.” The beast has to howl his hurt — or the world will be sorry.
“I’m coming with you.”
A few seconds later, we’re peeling out of the garage headed for the high country.
At dawn, Ben and I walk into the mansion. Shav turns from the fancy coffeemaker. Her eyes are red and swollen. She’s been crying.
Ben can’t even look at her. He keeps going up the stairs. Not ready to deal with her yet either, I follow him — down the hall to a guest bedroom where I stashed my clothes. Sleep is a consideration for all of ten seconds. I know I won’t sleep. The look on her face when she stared at Cruz’s wolf will haunt me for a long time, maybe the rest of my life.
I take a shower, change, holster my gun and take a deep breath before going back downstairs.
“I made some oatmeal.” Her voice is so soft.
Without a word, I wave her off and keep going to the garage. Ben’s Mustang is already gon
e. He peeled out, too. It hurts too much to stay here with her scent everywhere.
Half way down University, I realize I forgot my badge. Son of a bitch. I make a U-turn and head back. Instead of parking in the garage, I leave my truck idling at the front door so I can get in and out fast. I hear her before I see her — sobbing deep, painful sounding heaves.
Curled up in a tight little shaking ball on the couch, she doesn’t even notice me at first.
“Oh, baby.” I can’t keep my emotions in check no matter how hard I try.
“I’m sorry” — she sobs — “I’m so sorry, Nash.” She’s so upset, her whole body shakes. “I never meant to hurt you.” She sobs. “Or Ben.”
I lift her, sit and cuddle her on my lap. “I know, Shav. Baby, I know.”
“We shouldn’t” — she talks in little short breaths — “we shouldn’t have made love.”
No, we shouldn’t have. Now that I know what your sweet softness is like, I’ll miss it forever.
Her giant tears soak my shirt. Mine drop onto her head.
“Everyone’s gone. Mom and Dillon. Val. Even you.” Her chest shudders, her agony vibrating into my body.
“I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.” As long as I’m breathing, I’ll be here for you. Always. Doesn’t matter how many pieces you shatter my heart into.
She looks up at me, her pink lips pressed tight together and trembling. She wipes my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would hurt like this.”
“No one did. Some things are just beyond our control, Shav.”
I let her cry it out. Before I know it, her sniffles have stopped and she goes limp in my arms, her wet cheek stuck to my shirt.
Slowly I get up and lay my sleeping Shavone down on the couch, tuck the throw around her. She looks horrible — face all puffy and eyes red from crying, and so fucking sweet at the same time. In moments like this I see the tough little girl I first met — tear stained and covered in blood. All alone in the world yet so damn brave, holding her chin up, gray eyes watching the wolves guarding her, guiding her. I vowed then that I’d do what I could to ease her sadness. Can I wolf-up and be true to my word?
chapter thirty-seven
THE HOLE WE’RE in is dark and cold. It’s me and two other girls — one older and one younger. I know them, but I don’t know them.
Outside is war. Shouting and screaming. We’re underground. I know because occasionally I hear the thump of a footstep above and grains of soil sprinkle on us.
The older girl shushes us, but the younger girl starts to whimper. She’s afraid. I hold her hand.
“Don’t cry.”
The older girl chants in a whisper.“We are peaceful. We are strong, though the dark may seem long. The ancestors hold us in their arms. We are always safe from harm. You will see, so mote it be.”
For a moment when I wake, I’m disoriented. I’m on the sofa in the great room and my fingers clutch the pendant around my neck. My head hurts. I blink. My eyes hurt, too. Serves me right. Horrible people who do what I did should hurt — all over. The justice of three-fold, that is, what you dish out to the world returns to you at three times the strength.
Nash didn’t deserve that. Neither did Ben.
I’m so sorry.
I force a fresh bout of tears away.
Are the guys here? I hope not. I can’t face them. Not now. Holding my breath, I still, listening for sounds in the big house. There aren’t any. If they are here, they’re nowhere close to me. Not that I blame them.
My phone vibrates on the coffee table. It’s the alarm. I’m due at work in less than an hour. The first alert is what woke me. Shit. I slept all day. I want to get there early to talk to Tanya. I hurry up to my apartment to get ready.
Enrique leans against the building as I pull into the parking lot. He saunters over and opens my car door.
“What’s wrong with your face?”
I frown, getting out. “It was explained yesterday. It’s just makeup.”
“No, it’s not.” Gripping my chin, he turns my face this way and that. “Your eyes are almost swollen shut.”
I swallow. “I — um — I had an emotional night.” I shrug. “And morning.”
“Did he hurt you?” Enrique’s calm voice doesn’t match the fire in his eyes.
“The opposite actually.” I look away.
His fingers on my jaw soften and drop away.
We walk through the employee entrance. The office door has already been repaired. We stop outside my dressing room.
“You’re earlier tonight than last.” Without a suit coat, his bulging biceps ripple and strain the white sleeves. He leans a broad shoulder on the wall and tilts his head like he’s flirting with a girl in a high school hallway.
Shit. He is so gorgeous. Turning on the charm only amplifies it by a million watts.
“You must enjoy my company very much.” It’s spoken as a joke with twinkling eyes, but the thumbnail strumming his bottom lip says that he wants the sentiment to be true. To the wolf taking over his eyes, it’s exceedingly important.
My breath leaves my lungs. If I thought the man was intense, it’s nothing compared to his wolf. The dark magnetic pools communicate a desire. No, not desire, a craving. As though I’m the last meal, the only meal, he hungers for.
Wow. It’s a breathtaking feeling.
“Oh, little witch, please breathe,” the wolf implores.
As ordered, I inhale deeply. Mixed with the oxygen is his scent, the aroma as spellbinding as any narcotic. I’ve never smelled a wolf before. Did I smell him that night? In the nightmare? I’m not sure. I make a mental note to try to remember the next time I have it.
“Is my beast destined to take your breath away every time he appears?” The wolf is gone and it’s the man smirking at me.
“Possibly,” I murmur, taking another deep breath. The lingering spicy scent of the wolf giving me a sense of connection that I’ve never had with anyone, not even Mom or Val or Dillon or Nash. Not anyone.
“I remembered more about that night,” I blurt out. I shake my head. “At least, I think I did.”
Immensely interested and suddenly serious, his head straightens. A lock of curly black hair falls across his forehead. I resist the overwhelming urge to touch it, to push it back in place.
“Lucid or dream?” He asks.
“Dream.”
Paige bursts through the employee entrance, pausing when she sees us. With a blink, she hurries around us into the dressing room.
I step back from Enrique. “I should change.”
“Come to the bar when you’re ready.” His voice follows me into the dressing room.
“Hey.” Paige sits at the vanity, opens her makeup bag. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror before darting toward the door, obviously curious about Enrique.
“Hey.” I put my purse in a locker and give her a quick hug around the shoulders. “How’s your mom?”
“Not so good. She rarely gets sick, but this flu is kicking her ass.”
“Oh, no. What about Ava?”
“Aunt Pat came up from the Springs to help.”
I nod, vaguely remembering her rather young aunt Patricia. “That’s nice of her.”
My makeup done at home, I move to the wardrobe rod and grab the next babydoll on my side of the rack. This one is pale blue with a tissue thin layer of fine lace hugging the bodice. It’s beautiful.
I hurry to change. “I’ll go look for Tanya. She should have our tips from last night.”
Paige dabs her face with a loaded makeup brush. “Speaking of last night. I heard what happened. Nash” —
I cut her off. “Was an ass.”
She turns from the mirror to look at me aghast. “Come on, Shavone. He just cares. You don’t know how lucky you are that someone gives a shit about you.”
She’s right. I grimace, starting to tear up, again.
She frowns. “Don’t start or we’ll both be bawling.”
“Can’t have tear staine
d Dolls.” I joke and force the emotion back.
“That’s right.” Paige grins. “So, about Cruz.” She purses her lips and goes back to applying her makeup.
“It’s complicated,” I mumble evasively.
Her judging eyes follow me as I slip out the door.
Other than missing a few table, the club looks the same. But there’s more security tonight. Two burly Natives flank the stage and more are positioned at the door.
Too many eyes follow me to the bar where Enrique waits for me.
“Is Tanya here?” I scan the lounge for her.
“She’s off tonight.” He scans my outfit with an appreciative eye.
“Oh.” Shit. So much for grilling her about Whitney.
“You are behind the bar tonight.” He puts a hand on my lower back to usher me along.
Despite his hand, I don’t move. “What? Why?” I can’t talk to customers if I’m back there.
“Because I said so,” he murmurs.
“Enrique, I know nothing about tending bar. I can pour a glass of wine, that’s it.”
He smiles. “Well, good. You’ll learn something new. That’s what cross training is all about.”
“Please. I’d rather serve.” It’s so odd. At the interview, I was petrified of him. Now that I know who he is, I’m not afraid of him at all.
Slowly he shakes his head. “You’re safer behind the bar,” he mouths.
Antonio drafts a beer. “You’re not afraid of me are you?”
“Please,” Enrique adds with a smile. He presses lightly at my back to indicate I should move. Scowling with sound effects, I do.
“It’s bad form to make rude noises at your boss.”
I roll my eyes. How quickly our relationship changed. I feel safe — safer with Enrique than with anyone else, even Nash. I bite my lip. Nash can never know that.
Enrique reaches beyond me, beneath the bar for an apron. “Turn around.” He unfurls the cloth. I turn to face him, study his face as he drapes the canvas cloth on my hips. Wrapping the strings several times around my waist, he takes his time to tie them at the front.
“There. You’re ready.”
I shake my head. “What if someone orders a complicated drink — I don’t know, like Sex on the Beach or something? I don’t know any cocktail recipes.”
Soft Shatter (Wolven Moon Book 1) Page 29