Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)

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Five Weeks (Seven Series #3) Page 17

by Dannika Dark


  Jericho curved his right hand around my neck and softly petted my skin with his fingers. I leaned forward and pressed my tear-stained lips to his mouth. That first contact was electric, awakening nerves in my body and sending a rush of blood all over. When our lips parted in the slowest kiss ever recorded, we tasted each other with a soft and sensual stroke of our tongues.

  I held my breath, and when I pulled back, I was panting. Jericho closed his eyes and pulled his lips in, licking them as if he’d eaten something delicious. “You taste like peaches.”

  “Will you give me a second chance? I won’t run out on you again. I’m not expecting us to be an item, but I want to reconcile and become friends again.”

  He pulled my T-shirt forward and kissed the edge of my mouth, whispering against my lips. “Oh, we’re a thing all right. The friendship is a given, but this is going exclusive.”

  “You don’t do exclusive.”

  “Something you don’t know about me, Isabelle, is that I’ve never wanted anything more permanent than a roll in the sack. Not with anyone… except you. I slept with all those women, but you were the one who cared for me in the morning. You were the one I drank orange juice with at the table while you’d read me the newspaper in that terrible British accent. You were the one who gave me a kick in the ass when I needed it and always forgave me. I’m twisted around your heart like a vine, and I won’t let you go. And by the way, that whore wasn’t wearing your shirt. That was hers.”

  Jericho stood up and rummaged through his dresser drawer. He turned around and tossed a T-shirt in my lap. “That’s the vintage Izzy Monroe shirt. You left it in the bathroom on top of the sink. I’ve never let another woman put it on. It’s sacred. Even though you weren’t here, wearing it made it seem like you’d never left. That’s some crazy shit, huh?”

  I stared at the shirt in disbelief, pulling it to my nose and smelling it. He’d kept it all this time.

  “First thing I’m going to do is go downstairs and kick Denver’s ass for making me think you’d cleaned me out. If you’re pissed at me for having sex with that woman, I get it. Looking back, I can imagine what that looked like; I had no idea you walked in on us.”

  He turned around and cursed hard. “Fuck!”

  “It’s in the past.” I climbed to my feet and wobbled a little before regaining my balance.

  “Second,” he continued, “I’m going back to that house and picking up all your things. You’re staying here until we figure out what’s next.”

  He took two steps forward and cupped his hand around my neck, claiming me. “Baby, I’m not going to leave you. And you’re not going to leave me, because we’re going to work it out. I don’t want you worried about me going off with another woman because that shit won’t happen. I’ve spent years choosing women who didn’t remind me of you. They embodied every quality you didn’t have. It was just sex.”

  “But you’ve never been faithful to anyone.”

  “I’ve never had a good reason to be.”

  “And you do now?”

  “Yeah, I do. I got my best girl back. Did I turn to drugs in Hawk’s basement? No. Lock me in a room with a naked woman and it’s the same deal. All I see is my weakness when I look at other women, but when I look at you, all I see is my strength.”

  A smile touched my lips. “Maybe you should put that in a song.”

  Jericho held my gaze with his pensive eyes. “Hawk’s dead. Just so you know.”

  I nodded. “I had a feeling.”

  “You’re a tough girl, Isabelle. Don’t let what happened harden you, but don’t let it weaken you either.”

  “How do I do that?”

  He turned his left shoulder toward me and pointed at his tattoo. “Balance. I didn’t fill in the guitar because I needed something to remind me. Not all black. Not all white. Not all full and not all empty. I’m not perfect, and I’ll always be without something. But that’s okay, as long as I don’t let one or the other consume me.”

  I smoothed my fingers over the tattoo and looked up at him. “I thought maybe you just ran out of ink.”

  He burst out laughing and wow, what a smile. Jericho didn’t just have nice lips, but his whole mouth worked in the most mysterious way. A sweep of his tongue, a casual smile, and the words he spoke. Not just in song, but in private.

  “How come you only got one tattoo? I bet people gave you heat for that. No skulls, no daggers, no badass dragon?”

  A current of possession rose in his tone. “Sometimes one good thing is all you need.”

  “I’m sorry that bitch stole your guitar. If it makes you feel any better, she’s probably working on her fifth husband.”

  “The only thing she stole was my future,” he said, pulling me against him and wrapping his arms around the small of my back. “But I got it back, and I’m not letting go.”

  A knock sounded at the door as it creaked open. An older woman peered in and glanced at my plate. “I’ve put some things in the bathroom for you to clean up with. Do you want something else to eat? I have a fruit salad in the fridge, and lunch will be ready in about an hour.”

  “No, I don’t want to be any trouble. Thanks for what you’ve done for me.”

  “Lynn, I’m setting up a room for Isabelle down the hall. Tell Austin I’m heading out in a few minutes to pick up her things. I also need to grab some cheese popcorn.”

  I concealed my smile when he winked at me.

  She peered suspiciously between us and closed the door.

  “Lynn’s having issues coping with some of the Shifter drama that goes on. We can’t change who we are because a human lives in the house, but they’re family and we protect them just the same. Austin thinks she’s going to send Maizy away soon. His hands are tied since he’s not the father. Lexi’s trying to talk her into staying, but after this incident, I don’t know. She’s been pretty quiet this morning.”

  “Can you blame her? She’s human and has a little girl to look after. Parents want the best for their kids.”

  “How many do you want?”

  “What?”

  Jericho chuckled. “How. Many. Do. You. Want?”

  Okay, I started to blush. Especially when he tightened his grip and planted a soft peck on my forehead. Everything about the way he touched me was restrained and polite—Jericho handled me like a cornered animal who might run.

  “Six.”

  His eyes widened and he leaned back. “Six? What the shit?”

  “Don’t you want a band?”

  He gripped both sides of my head and kissed my forehead. “Still the same old Isabelle. Why don’t you shift again? I’ll leave you alone and you can let your wolf out for as long as she wants.”

  “I’ll tear up your room.”

  Jericho leaned against the door and began fooling with a ring on his finger. “It’s just stuff. I want those marks off your wrists.”

  I traced a finger over them. “I don’t think they’re going to heal all the way.”

  “And your back,” he said in a controlled breath.

  “Those marks don’t hurt and they’ll fade. Hawk put me through a lot, but you know I grew up in a fighting household. I’m not going to allow him to ruin my life. I’m going back to work this week and—”

  “You are asshat crazy if you think you’re going to work.”

  “Oh?” I put my hands on my hips and stared him down.

  “Yeah. Oh. You can’t go on pretending nothing happened.”

  “I can still work,” I argued. “It shouldn’t affect my ability to serve food and beer on a tray. Maybe at night I’ll do a little crying in my bed and have some nightmares, but my life has to go on. Shifters are born with thick skin because growing up in the Breed world is no cakewalk. I’m not a delicate flower that needs to be protected from the wind. I’m a wildflower—a sunflower. Punish me with drought and heat, and I’ll grow stronger.”

  “A week is too soon, Isabelle.”

  “Do you think moping around the house will pu
t me in better spirits? Do you know why I like a service job, Jericho? It’s because I love people. I enjoy laughing and hearing their stories of family and travel. I like building friendships and thinking of them as…”

  “Family. That’s what you mean, isn’t it? You like working there because it starts to feel like a home. Maybe a pack.”

  I quieted, stilled by the truth that flowed from his lips. I’d never known what it was to live in a pack, and it intimidated me like nothing else. Someone with my history wouldn’t fit in or be accepted by others. I grew up outside a pack and came from a mixed home. My job had always given me the acceptance I needed, and if it didn’t, I could pack up and leave.

  “Go on, Isabelle. Jump in the shower, and after you feel rested, you can shift in my room. Take as long as you need. You don’t have to make all these heavy decisions right now, dig? Just take care of yourself,” he said, pressing a small kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be right here.”

  Chapter 14

  “Two number twelves and they want them atomic!” I yelled into the kitchen, handing the cook my order slip.

  Jericho couldn’t prevent me from going back to work a few days later. He tried, but I knew if I sat around the house any longer, I’d be miserable. The marks on my wrists hadn’t faded, so April took me shopping and bought me trendy wrist cuffs. They were lacy and ran halfway up my forearm, almost like a glove. I chose the black to go with my sleeveless work shirt and had already received a few compliments on them. The fading marks around my eye were easily concealed with makeup, but a few men looked a little closer and didn’t care for what they saw.

  Most male Shifters won’t tolerate abuse against women. Table nine looked ready to corner me and demand to know who did it, so Rosie took over my section while I relaxed in the back.

  I was beside myself when Denver handed me a cheeseburger on a plate and sat down across from me. He apologized for having mixed things up. I couldn’t blame him; the way the maid had described it, I would have come to the same conclusion.

  In any case, we were square. I liked Denver—he was easygoing with a nutty sense of humor. Denver didn’t have an endgame of finding a mate from what I sensed, but he loved to flirt. It seemed like a few of the Cole brothers had commitment issues.

  Rosie strutted toward us and delivered a skeptical look. “Are you sure you’re okay, hon?”

  “Let the girl eat her cow patty in peace,” Denver said.

  She put her hands on her hips. “Such a smart mouth on you. I’ll be sure to tell the cook what you think of his hamburgers.”

  “I’m fine, Rosie. I’ll be better when everyone stops asking.”

  “You let me know if you need anything,” she said, wagging her finger as she went back to the bar.

  The main door swung open, and a cacophony of shouts burst into the room. Three men ambled up to the bar to order drinks—men I didn’t know—so I told my heart to slow down. Some childish part of me thought Hawk might rise from the dead and come after me. Maybe that’s why people have funerals—the mind doesn’t seem to accept death unless you see the body with your own eyes.

  “How’s the room at the house working out, honeypie?” Denver asked, twisting the wrapper off a white peppermint.

  “You guys have been great. I really appreciate it.”

  Everyone had a chaotic schedule, so I stayed in my room and rarely saw most of the pack.

  “Maybe you should come eat with us.”

  I shifted uncomfortably and touched the lace on my wrist. “That’s a family thing. I’m just going to stay out of your hair until I find a place of my own. If only these guys would give me better tips.”

  His face darkened, and he flicked the wrapper on the floor. “Are some of the customers holding out on you?”

  I waved him off. “You know how it goes, Denver. I’m the new girl and—”

  “Bullshit.” He kicked back his chair and towered over the table, gripping the edges. “If someone tips low, I want you to signal me at the bar and let me take care of it.”

  “I don’t want to cause trouble because then they won’t sit in my section.”

  “If they want to keep coming back here they’ll sit in your section. I’m serious,” he said as he walked off. “Signal me.”

  I took another bite of my cheeseburger and washed it down with a sip of tea. Just as I moved to get up, Wheeler eased into the chair across from me.

  He always wore sleeveless shirts, so the first noticeable thing was his tatted arms—all kinds of designs that blended into a canvas of art. It didn’t look like he’d brushed his hair or trimmed his beard. He looked like a pirate, but in a good way. Especially with his bright eyes that were a pale shade of brown, like a glass of sweet tea warming in the sun.

  During my stay in the Weston pack household, Wheeler had been noticeably absent. I presumed he had issues with me staying there given I’d almost gotten them killed because of my crazy ex.

  “So here’s the deal,” he began. “I owe you. Big. You made a call that saved my life, and you made a move that saved Jericho’s life. Regardless of the fact you were the one who got us in that mess, that’s where it stands. If you want money, I can arrange something.”

  “I don’t want your money,” I said, pushing my plate. “It’s all gravy.”

  He clipped a smile and sat back in his chair, studying me intently. “That all you have to say?”

  “I’m back in Jericho’s life, so you’ll have to get used to seeing me around. But I’m sorry about how everything turned out. I didn’t know Hawk was that kind of man, and I should have. I still don’t understand how I could have trusted someone like him and not have seen his dark side. That’s what gives me waking nightmares. I should have seen the signs early on.”

  “Sometimes people cover up what they don’t want others to see,” he said, staring at my wrist cuffs. “Secrets are truths that show what we’ve been through—what we’ve survived. I don’t hide who I am,” he said, raising up both fists and showing me his tattoos. “Maybe you shouldn’t either. I want everyone to know exactly who I am and where I’m coming from. But sometimes people bury that shit deep and put on a façade. Those around them can’t see the dark part of their soul they hide because it’s not something they wear on their skin. It’s a fracture that’s deep and invisible. Why don’t you show me what you’ve got.” He nodded at my arms.

  I slowly pulled off one of the lacy coverings and turned my wrist over so he could see the marks on both sides.

  “You should keep them off,” he suggested. “What do you think it says about you?”

  “That I’m a victim, and I’m weak.”

  Wheeler shook his head and gave me a crooked smile. “You’re serving these assholes whiskey and hot dogs. You know what that says to me? That you’re tough. It takes a strong woman to move on with her life after something like that—and to show it off proudly as if it doesn’t faze her? One badass bitch. You can’t sit around beating yourself up because you didn’t see it coming. Even if you’d known what he was capable of, what could you have done?”

  “Called someone.”

  “Who? Unless you can prove someone has committed a crime, your hands are tied. You know the Breed’s stance on slander. Without hard evidence, all you could have done was look away or walk away.”

  “At least I would have had the choice,” I said glumly.

  “People give signs when they want to be caught. Did he give any signs?”

  I shook my head.

  “Then he didn’t want to be caught. He was too far gone. They’re only careless in the beginning because they still have that thing called guilt riding on their shoulders. After a while, they lose their conscience and don’t make any more mistakes. They don’t want to be caught because they love committing the crime. It becomes less of a thrill and more of an addiction.”

  “How do you know?”

  He wiped his face slowly with his hand in a downward motion, speaking in a tired voice. “I’ve been around long
enough. Look, that’s not what I came here to talk about. We’re not even until I pay back my dues. You hold a favor in your pocket with me. Whatever and whenever you want, just let me know.”

  He rapped his knuckles on the table and took off.

  I looked down at my wrists and peeled off the lacy coverings, leaving them on the table. Wheeler was right.

  I strolled to the kitchen and the cook handed me an order. I proudly held that tray over my shoulder and walked to the table, giving the men my best dip as I set their glasses down.

  “Here you are. Southwest burgers with extra jalapeños. Hope these are spicy enough for you. The chef uses fresh peppers—none of that canned stuff.”

  I set the plate down in front of a burly man and caught his gaze. I swiveled around and set down the last plate, but the men weren’t eating. As I turned to walk off, one of them caught my hand and stuffed something into it.

  It was a rolled-up fifty.

  “There’s another fifty if you tell me who did that,” he said, leaning in tight and touching my wrist.

  Ned was one of my regulars who had been shortchanging me. I smiled graciously. “He’s taken care of. My job is to make sure you’re taken care of, so when you need a refill on those drinks, just holler.”

  I returned to the bar and leaned against it, facing the open room.

  “Honey, what happened?” Rosie’s eyes widened when she caught sight of my wrists.

  I leaned on my right arm to face her and lifted my chin. “Someone messed with the wrong girl.”

  “Damn right,” Denver said, slamming the drinks on my tray. “She’s staying with the Weston pack, so feel free to spread the word.”

  Rosie blinked. “You’re living with a bunch of wolves?”

  I patted her shoulder. “Rosie, I am a wolf. Maybe that ruins it for some of the guys in here who want the fantasy of something else, but I don’t care. I should be tipped for my hard work and friendliness, not because I might be a cougar and take them home after work. You hear that?” I shouted at everyone in the bar.

  The chatter died down and all eyes were on me. Crazy Izzy was coming out to play for a little bit, but I didn’t care. I was proud of being a wolf, and it was time that everyone knew it.

 

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