Dad shrugged. “Okay, I’m listening.”
“What she really is, her true parentage, doesn’t leave this room. The pack will go ape-shit if they find out.”
“But the others saw what she could do...”
“You think I don’t know that? I’ll make up something. Demonic possession maybe, from living with your pet witch. It’s happened before. That’ll buy her some sympathy, but she’ll have to keep her antics in check.”
Antics?
Dad nodded. “Okay. So who then?”
Craig smiled and turned toward the other two. “Easy as pie, bro. Congratulations, Jerry. You’re now engaged.”
♦ ♦ ♦
What the ever-living fuck?!
“Huh?” Jerry asked, apparently as dumbfounded as me.
“You’re about the same age,” Craig said. “And you’re single, right?”
“Yeah ... I guess.”
“Well, not anymore. You and Tamara here are going to get married so we can properly indoctrinate her into the pack.”
Jerry turned my way and sized me up, undressing me with his beady eyes while running a wart-covered hand over the stubble on his chin. “She’s not really my type, but I guess she ain’t too bad.”
Ain’t too bad? Oh, I was so going to feed him his own bottom jaw. “I wouldn’t count on...”
Dad stepped in front of me. “And she’d be safe?”
Craig nodded. “Like I said, she has to behave herself. But as a member of the pack, anyone messes with her and they deal with me.”
“And what if I say no?”
Dad turned to me. “That’s enough, Tamara.”
“But...”
“I said that’s enough.”
It wasn’t so much what he said as how he said it. He put on his dad voice, which caused my mouth to shut so fast that I was barely aware it had closed.
“The Draíodóir can’t know about this,” Craig said to my dad, ignoring me like I was property.
“Lissa will find out.”
“Lie to her.”
“I won’t do that.”
“How the hell do you live with yourself, knowing how badly you’ve shamed your own people?”
“That’s my wife you’re talking about.”
“Whatever,” Craig said, disgust practically dripping from his lips. “But you’d better explain to her that this is the only way Tamara gets to live.”
“She’s not going to take that well.”
“You’re her husband,” Craig replied mockingly. “You’ll figure out some way to break it to her. And if she has a problem with it, you can also explain that you’re the one who agreed to it. Sound fair?”
Dad glanced back at me, but then quickly looked away as if not wanting to meet my eyes. Finally, he nodded.
“So be it,” my uncle said after a beat, his tone suggesting he considered this discussion finished. “The ceremony will take place next month. Fitting in a way. Almost like going full circle.”
“Why’s that?” I asked, finding my voice.
“Check your lunar calendar, girl. A month from now, you’ll be taking your vows beneath another blood moon.”
CHAPTER 18
Every time I tried to speak, Dad would ignore me as he agreed to Uncle Craig’s terms, basically offering my hand in marriage to warty Jerry.
It was a good thing that my uncle kept his visit short, because otherwise it would have almost certainly gotten violent. Once the door shut behind Craig, Mitch, and my new fiancé, Dad turned to find me waiting with clenched fists. “Okay, I’m waiting for it.”
“Waiting for what?” he asked wearily.
“The plan of action. The big reveal. The con we’re playing.”
“There is no con.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you understand? Craig means it. He wants this to happen. He’s decreed it.”
“So just tell him to go pound sand.”
“It’s not that easy. He’s the alpha.”
“But I thought you said you were the...”
“I was,” he explained. “But, in marrying your mother, in taking up the charade of pretending to honor our treaty, I had to step aside. That meant accepting him as pack leader, adopting a beta mindset, anything to protect you. And, before you ask, I wouldn’t change a damn thing about it.”
Dad put a hand on my shoulder. “Craig wasn’t lying. You’re ... not supposed to be possible. But you are. You’re my darling little girl, a once in maybe a thousand lifetimes miracle.” He turned away, leaning his head against the wall. “But you have to realize this isn’t a fairy tale. Miracles come with a price. Believe me, no matter what your mother says, her people wouldn’t react any differently. You have to understand, I’m doing this to save you, Tam Tam.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Listen, honey, I’m not any happier about this than...”
I stepped up behind him, spun him to face me and then, before I barely even realized what I was doing, grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him into the wall hard enough to crack the drywall. “Let me be crystal clear: happy isn’t a word I’d use right now.”
His eyes opened wide, probably more in shock than pain. After a moment, I took a deep breath and dropped him. I started to apologize, but caught my tongue before the words could form.
Instead, I turned away. “I need to get some fresh air.”
“You should stay here. Your mother will be back soon. Besides, it’s not safe for you out there.”
I glanced over my shoulder and fixed him with a glare. “You know what’s not safe? Trying to get in my way right now.”
♦ ♦ ♦
I practically dared him to try to stop me. The truth was, I was spoiling for a fight and didn’t particularly care much who with. Would I have felt bad about it later on? Probably, but Dad had already proven that he healed quickly. Who better to take my frustrations out on than the guy who’d sold me like a piece of meat. Even better, any bruises I left wouldn’t debilitate him for long.
But he didn’t try. He let me go without another word. I made a show of grabbing the keys to the minivan from the hook near the door before I stepped out. Petty of me, yeah, but sometimes letting my bitch face out to play could do wonders for my mood.
A few moments later found me pulling out of my own driveway, still fuming. Had anyone dared try to cut me off before I turned from our block, I would have gladly put the airbags and my parents’ insurance premiums to the test. Fortunately, that didn’t happen.
As I sat at the stop sign waiting to turn, it all caught up to me and I let out a primal scream, letting my lungs release the pent-up rage that I really wanted to hand off to my fists instead. My anger spent, I lowered my head to the steering wheel and tried to get myself back under control.
After several minutes, a car beeped behind me, making me realize I was still sitting there. I wiped the tears from my eyes and drove toward the only place I could think of where I’d be met with a sympathetic ear.
♦ ♦ ♦
“It’s not funny, Riva, I mean it.”
We were downstairs in her house. I’d arrived to find her napping on the couch, catching up on the lost sleep from the night before.
Though I doubted it had ever been used – considering her dad’s somewhat doughy frame – they had a full-sized punching bag in their basement. I was using it to blow off a little steam.
I slammed a fist into the bag, almost knocking Riva from her feet as she tried to hold it from the other side.
“Ow, watch it!”
“Sorry, but you kind of had it coming.”
“Oh, come on, Bent. You have to admit this is pretty wild. I mean, I was always afraid that one day my parents would up and announce that they’d arranged a marriage for me with some guy in Bangladesh. Yet instead it’s your folks, two of the whitest people I’ve ever met – no offense, by the way – who’ve arranged for you to get hitched.”
“None taken,” I replied, drilling the bag
with an uppercut that drew another complaint from my friend. “Still not funny. Did I tell you what this guy looks like?”
“Warts and all.” She stepped away from the bag before I could slug it again.
“He’s a total skeeve.”
“I wonder if he has warts in other places.”
“Ugh! That’s nasty!”
“Ooh.” She spun toward me with way too big of a grin on her face. “Do you think he’ll only want to do it...”
“Don’t say it,” I warned.
“Doggy style?”
I drew back and hit the bag with a solid jab that tore the hook straight out of the rafters and sent it flying across the room. Even I stared wide-eyed at what I’d done. “Um, sorry.”
Riva stepped up next to me. “Really glad I moved when I did. Remind me not to piss you off.”
“You know I’d never do that to you.”
“Yeah, but collateral damage is nothing to sneeze at.”
She suggested we head upstairs and grab something to eat before I trashed the rest of her house. There was some leftover vindaloo in the fridge and, while I wouldn’t have trusted Riva to crack an egg correctly, her mother was a hell of a cook.
A few bites later left me feeling marginally better. This week was supposed to be about fun, hanging out, and maybe recovering from a hangover or two. Instead I’d somehow ended up as the bride of Frankenstein, if Frankenstein’s monster had even worse skin. Ugh! Just the thought of Jerry trying to consummate our sham of a union was enough to make me lose my appetite.
“What am I going to do? And I swear if you start laughing again, I’m going to throw my spoon at you.”
“Did you tell your mom yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“Well, then that’s your first step.”
I considered this. “Uncle Craig did seem pretty wary around her. I got the sense that he didn’t want to piss her off.”
“Neither would I. But that’s good. Oh, by the way, you need to take him off your Christmas card list ASAP.”
“Don’t think I already haven’t.” I took another bite. “The only present my dear uncle is getting from me this year is a sack of coal, preferably upside the head.”
“Okay, so let’s see if your mom can maybe sort this out.”
I shook my head. “There’s one potential problem there. Mom acts all tough, but Dad’s got her number. He could probably sweet talk...”
“Her pants off?”
“Thanks for going there. I was going to say talk her into going along with this stupid sham.”
She appeared to mull this over. “Well, what if it’s just that, a sham? Maybe all you need to do is show up, say ’I do,’ and then it’s all fine and good. They can claim their victory, while you tell Jerry to go stuff his warty prick into some other knothole.”
“I was thinking about that, but I didn’t get the impression they see it that way. Craig seemed pretty adamant that this meant I’d be a part of the pack. Call me paranoid, but I think he either wants me as a weapon or wants to neutralize me as one by ensuring I start popping out wart-covered puppies.”
“Does PetSmart offer baby registries?”
I tossed a scoop of rice at her.
“You’d better clean that up or my mom is going to flip out.”
I handed her a napkin. “Any idea when they’re getting home?”
“No clue,” Riva said, brushing rice off her shirt. “The day after tomorrow maybe. My Dad loves to give me crap about not wanting to leave me alone, but it’s all BS. I guarantee he’s lying next to a pool somewhere, trying to milk it for as long as he can. Looks like I’ll be sleeping with the lights on for a few more days.”
“You could always come by my place ... or I could stay here.”
“True, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea to ignore this for too long with your parents.”
She had a point. If I wasn’t there to say anything, they’d have a chance to talk it out without me adding my two cents. If so, my fate could be sealed. There would be nothing I could do except...
“I am such an idiot.”
“Nah. You’re just a moron.”
“Bite me,” I replied without any real rancor. “No. I mean, I was just thinking that I’d be screwed if my parents had too long to discuss this without me there. But then I remembered I have this little thing going for me called being an adult.”
“Good point. But technically you’re still living under their roof.”
“Yes, but as an adult, perhaps it’s time I made the adult decision of returning to college.”
“Running away from your problems?” she asked with a grin. “If there is a more mature way to handle this, I haven’t heard of it.”
I knew she was joking, but I wasn’t. “It might actually be for the best if I leave, remove myself from this madhouse my life’s become.”
“What if your parents say ‘no’?”
“They only pay for a small part of my tuition. My sports scholarship covers most of it. Worst they could do is cut me off. If so, I get a job.”
“The world could always use another stripper working her way through college.”
We both laughed. “I was thinking more a part-time job at the athletic center, or maybe waiting tables.”
“Too bad,” she said. “I’d have paid good money...”
“To see me swing on a pole?” I asked, one eyebrow raised.
“Maybe. But mostly to see what would happen if any of your clients tried to get fresh.”
“Nah, probably not a great idea. I’d make all the bouncers jealous.”
She got up to put her bowl into the dishwasher. “That, and you also dance like a white girl.”
“Do not.”
“I remember you at prom trying to do the Electric Slide. My eyes almost bled.”
She kinda had a point. A future contestant on Dancing With The Stars, I was not. Still, I wasn’t about to concede the argument so easily. “Nobody’s going to care if I’m prancing around like a three-legged buffalo so long as I’ve got the goods on display.”
“Challenge accepted,” she said, turning around and facing me. “Strip.”
“What?”
“Start shaking it. I think I’ve got a twenty around here somewhere.”
“In your dreams.”
“Pussy.”
“I’m not stripping in your kitchen.”
Riva laughed. “See? That’s a problem. I’m your best friend. We’ve gotten changed in front of each other like a million times. And here you are wussing out. I hate to say it, but you’re probably back to waiting tables.”
“And I repeat, we’re in your kitchen and the windows are open.”
“Pity. Mr. McGreevy could probably use a thrill. I don’t think the poor guy’s been on a date since before we were born.”
“Hence my refusal. I don’t need to be burdened with thoughts of your geriatric neighbor jacking it to me.”
“Chicken.”
“Don’t make me deck you.”
CHAPTER 19
Our banter served to put me in a slightly less murderous mood, although I’d made up my mind about returning to school early. I had plenty of friends who’d be happy to see me and there was little doubt my coaches would appreciate me being around for some extra training. And I knew someone in housing who could probably find me a spare bed in one of the open dorms.
Speaking of college and coaches, my thoughts turned toward the upcoming season as I got back in the van to head home. I sincerely doubted anyone, least of all myself, had expected me to return to school a lot stronger than I’d left it. Wrestling was all about leverage and skill, but it was stupid to dismiss raw power. It was hard to pin an opponent who could toss you around like you weighed next to nothing.
Hmm, now that I thought about it, would it even be fair for me to compete? I mean, technically it wasn’t cheating. This was all me, who I was. If anything, I’d been doing the exact opposite of juicing for my entire career. There was
also the little fact that coming clean to my coaches and admitting I was a werewolf / draío ... whatever mix would likely get me benched, less so for having supernatural strength and more for sounding like a complete and utter loon.
Not to mention there was likewise the itty bitty problem that if I dropped off the team, poof, there went my scholarship. My grades weren’t bad, but there was no way I was getting a free ride on them alone. I’d have to get loans up to my eyeballs, something I wasn’t keen on doing. I’d heard more than enough horror stories about people who were still paying them off two decades after the fact. No thank you.
I continued to muse on this as I drove. Maybe I could make it work. With my newfound power, I’d have to hold back, even against the super heavyweights – not that they’d ever pair me with them.
Much as I believed in fair play, I just didn’t see me pretending to be Clark Kent on this one and staying off the team. I’d just have to be smart about it. Keep myself in check and not decimate everyone in the field, no matter how much fun that might be.
Well, okay, maybe Justin Helferman. He was going into his senior year, captain of the team, and was an arrogant prick. Him I might consider utterly destroying. Maybe just once or twice, though.
I considered things. It was a pity I was only finding out about my powers now. Had I known about this a couple of years ago, I could have taken the state championship, gotten a full ride and...
Hold on.
Memories of that day raced back to me. I’d come into that meet unbeaten for the season. News crews were all over the place, local ones anyway, all of them waiting to see if a girl would make history and go all the way.
But I hadn’t. I’d been beaten, pinned. In fact, I’d been off for the entire tournament, just barely squeaking by in matches against opponents I’d had relatively little trouble with prior to that day.
And that’s when it hit me. Mom, supposedly worried that the excitement and exertion would have an adverse effect on my condition, had insisted I take a booster dose of my meds right before the meet began.
Get Bent! Page 13