Wolf Bite (Wolf Cove #2)

by Nina West

  The guys head toward the cafeteria. Except for Ronan. He’s weaving through the tables, on his way toward me.

  “I’ve gotta go. My boss is calling,” I lie. I can’t deal with her anymore. Not today.

  “And your boss is more important than me?”

  No, nobody is more important than you, Mama, because you’re a narcissist.

  “Talk to you later.” I hang up before she can respond, dropping my phone into my pocket just as Ronan stops next to my seat, the smell of fresh soap enveloping me. While I wasn’t sweating today, I know I’m far from clean. I really should just get up and go right now. “Aren’t you getting dinner?”

  “Connor’s grabbing a tray for me.” He spins a chair around to straddle it, his knee bumping into mine. “You okay, red?”

  I tuck my legs in tighter and stab my roast beef with a fork. “I’m fantastic.”

  “Good. I was afraid you weren’t, the way you ran out of your cabin that night.”

  Is he actually going to bring that up, right here? I glare at him, hoping my warning is clear—that I never want to talk about that night with him, especially now that I’m going to have to work with him every single day.

  “Hey, boss.” Connor comes up from behind to set his tray down on the other side of me. He hands one to Ronan. He eases into his seat. “Long-ass day, huh?” He shoves a slice of roast beef into his mouth, then washes it down with beer, before winking at me.

  “Yeah. But I liked it.” I will not show these guys my physical pain, I promise myself as I quietly eat my cooled plate of food.

  Other guys begin trickling in from the cafeteria line to take seats at our table.

  “I’ll get you a beer,” a guy in a security uniform says to another. The badge clipped to his shirt reads Corbin.

  “Fuck that. You’ll need to buy me a case for me to ever agree to swap with you again,” the guy trailing him says. He’s also in a security guard uniform, with a badge that reads Mark. I immediately recognize his voice as the security guard roommate from Michael’s cabin. He looks exactly like the burly teddy bear I imagined when I heard his voice.

  Does he know what happened to Michael?

  “Come on! It’s a bit funny,” Corbin says, smiling.

  Mark drops his tray onto the table. “Nope. It’s not.”

  “Why would you want to sit in a room all night and watch monitors, anyway?”

  “Same reason you do. So I can watch people screwing in the stairwell. And not get pissed on.”

  Right. He’s still angry about that.

  “Watching people screw. What would that be like? Hey, red?” Ronan murmurs under his breath, knocking my arm with his elbow.

  I don’t think anyone heard but still, my face explodes with heat. I stuff a brussels sprout into my mouth to avoid having to answer.

  “So, how many cameras are there around this place, anyway?” Connor asks.

  “Dude...” Mark groans, cutting into his meat. “So many. Unless you’re inside your room or the showers, assume you’re on camera when you’re on this property.”

  Cameras, everywhere. Does that mean that the Wolf security watched my mini breakdown in the stairwell this morning?

  “Seriously? Fuck... Can’t get away with anything,” Connor mutters.

  “No. You really can’t.” Corbin points his breadstick at Connor and then laughs, like he’s already caught Connor on camera doing something untoward. I wonder if that something untoward is with Tillie. Though I doubt she’s dumb enough to get caught on video.

  Not like me.

  “Not unless you know where the blind spots are, and there aren’t many,” Mark adds.

  There’s a round of ketchup-passing and salt-tossing back and forth around me, as the guys trade comments about hot guests and hot coworkers through mouthfuls, not in the least bit concerned that they may offend me.

  “He’s alive!” Mark announces as Andy takes a seat. “Thought you were going to be incapacitated for a few days.” He laughs when he says that, like there’s some funny story behind it. Obviously he knows something that I don’t.

  “Yeah, that was the plan,” Andy mutters in his throaty Australian accent. “But my shoulder’s acting up again.”

  “Get Aspen to work on it. It’s his damn job. What the hell else is he good for?”

  “I wish. Aspen’s gone. Left yesterday.”

  My heart skips a beat. And... finally. Confirmation that Henry wasn’t lying and he really did fire Michael for sleeping with me.

  “Gone? What do you mean, gone?” Clearly, Mark had no idea.

  “I mean packed up and on the ferry, gone.”

  Mark’s face pinches up. “Like, fired?”

  “Dunno. He just said he had to go.”

  “But isn’t he, like, Wolf’s guy?”

  Andy shrugs. “Wolf’s gone so why keep him up here?”

  “Nah. That doesn’t make sense. He’s one of the favorites on staff. He must have done something to piss Wolf off.”

  “Like I said. Don’t know anything.” Andy’s gaze flickers to mine for a moment before focusing on his dinner.

  Andy does know something: that I slept with Michael the night before he was shipped off.

  I drop my focus to my plate.

  “Wonder if it has anything to do with what happened with Wolf’s brother. You guys heard about that, right?” Corbin asks.

  “Right, I saw him storm through the lobby all bloodied. He left on his helicopter right after,” Connor says, clearly unconcerned. “Sounds like Wolf and him got into a fistfight. I would have loved to see that.” A pause, and then he turns to me. “Hey, were you there to see that?”

  “No. I came after.” I stuff another sprout into my mouth and chew slowly.

  “Damn... his own brother. That’s pretty cold. Wonder what that was about?” I feel Ronan watching me as he takes a sip of his beer, and it prickles the hairs on the back of my neck.

  And here I was, thinking guys didn’t gossip.

  Ronan thinks that fight was about me. But it wasn’t. It was about his brother trying to have Henry framed for rape and pushed out of the family business, I want to say.

  Then again, why am I even defending Henry?

  “Probably has something to do with finding out he got his brother’s sloppy seconds,” Corbin says through mouthfuls.

  “Which chick?” Connor asks.

  “The one in Penthouse Two.”

  “Damn.” Connor nods his approval, while my chest tightens. I’m not going to sit here and hear details of what these guys may have caught on a security camera. I quietly gather my dishes, hoping to duck out without notice.

  No such luck.

  “Hey. Where are you going? We’re just getting started. It’s your inaugural night as part of the crew.” Connor scrapes the last forkful of food off his plate, having inhaled his dinner. Ronan’s not far behind him.

  “I have to call home and then shower,” I lie. I’m getting so good at lying.

  “You must be sore after working so hard all day. Need any help in the shower?”

  My cheeks flush. There are at least ten guys within ear shot. “No.”

  Connor’s rich blue eyes peer up at me. “I’m serious.”

  “So am I. Where’s Tillie, by the way?” And why would she put up with a guy who so openly flirts with everyone?

  “Probably working. I don’t know.” His gaze drops to my chest. “We have an understanding.”

  An understanding. I roll my eyes. What I’ll never understand is how these people treat sex so casually.

  “We’ll be here if you change your mind!” he hollers after me as I drop my tray on the counter.

  “I won’t,” I mutter under my breath as I leave the lodge, intent on a quick shower and then bed. But when I hear laughter as I approach my cabin, I’m forced to continue on past it. Great. I can’t even hide out in peace.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I spot the staff beach, a small sandy inlet with a couple of canoes
and kayaks and a paddleboat. It’s empty at this time of day, which means I won’t have to talk to anyone.

  I stroll down the dock, a single stretch of three four-foot sections—tiny compared to the one that receives the ferries and other boats—and perch myself on the end where I can wallow in my own misery.

  Curious to see what Mama found so offensive about that picture, I pull my phone out of my pocket and open up Twitter to check the Wolf Hotel account. I’d never been on Twitter before coming to Alaska, but Autumn got me on it, insisting that any good assistant should keep an eye out for things posted online about her boss, when her boss is Henry Wolf.

  Sure enough, several media outlets posted pictures from Saturday night’s gala, including plenty of Henry in his tux, looking as dashing as he does in real life.

  If only people knew what a complete asshole he can be when you piss him off.

  It takes a bit of scrolling, but I find the picture that must have Mama all up in arms. I’m standing behind Henry and to the right. I could easily pass for mid-to-late twenties in this picture, my hair a glossy deep red with auburn and gold highlights, my cheekbones high and defined so nicely. Katie’s super-bra makes my breasts stand front and center and my waist even tinier than it normally looks next to them. The skirt is a few inches above my knee, which would irk Mama some, but it’s not like my butt is hanging out. And my legs look incredible in the heels I borrowed from Rachel, my calf muscles straining just like hers were the day I admired her.

  I don’t think I’ve ever looked at a picture of myself and truly loved the way I looked. And I’ve never looked sexy. Not until now.

  No wonder Mama thinks I look like a jezebel.

  I’m just sliding my phone back into my pocket when it rings, startling me. I close my eyes and heave a sigh, dreading the number from home showing up on the screen again. I swear, if Mama is calling to give me more grief, I’m going to scream.

  But it’s not Mama.

  It’s Jed.

  I don’t know if that’s worse or better.

  “Abigail! Hey. I wasn’t sure you’d answer.”

  I instantly pick up on that apologetic tone—low and soft, and contrite. The one Jed always used on me when he had upset me.

  “What’s up?” I’ll bet Mama just got off the phone with the Enderbeys, recapping our entire conversation.

  “Nothing much. I just realized how long it’s been since I heard your voice. It’s been forever.”

  “Yeah, it has been.” That’s because you cheated on me.

  “So what have you been up to in Alaska? Making friends and stuff?”

  I haven’t really made much of an effort, to be honest, so wrapped up with Henry. Kind of sad, really. Not that I’m going to tell Jed that. “Yeah. I’ve made some decent friends.”

  “And you changed your hair?”

  Great. First Mama, now Jed. “I saw the pics and I think I looked great. So if you’re calling to tell me I look like a jezebel, I’m going to hang up on you, Jed.”

  “Whoa! Whoa, relax.” He chuckles. “You didn’t look like a jezebel. You looked good. Like, really good. Just... not like the Abigail I remember.”

  “I’m not her anymore.” I’m not sure who I am.

  “Yeah, I’m getting that feeling.” There’s a hint of something in his voice. “So... are you, like...”

  “Just spit it out, Jed.”

  “Are you seeing someone?”

  I hesitate, so tempted to lie. But then I’d no doubt be dealing with another phone call from Mama tonight. “No.”

  He heaves what sounds like a sigh of relief. “That’s what I told your Mama, but she’s all worried.”

  Why? Why is Jed so sure I’m not with anyone?

  And why the hell is he calling me?

  Suddenly I want to make him uncomfortable. “So, how’s Cammie?” We’ve never talked openly about her. I’ve never so much as uttered her name to him. It’s been like a curse word.

  He stumbles over his words. “Fine. Uh... we take turns driving back and forth on weekends to see each other. It’s a long way. A lot of gas. And she doesn’t really love Greenbank or spending so much time around the church, which is kind of a problem, seeing how involved our family is.” He pauses. “She’s not you, Abigail. I miss you.”

  A month ago, I was dying to hear him say that. To give me hope that this was all a terrible nightmare that I’d wake up from eventually. But now I hear it and it just reminds me how pathetic I was for not whipping that promise ring at his head the day I caught him cheating on me.

  I still have that stupid thing sitting in a box on my little ledge by my bed. I’m going to chuck it into the water the first chance I get.

  I don’t know if this call is his first step in trying to gain a reconciliation, or keep me on the leash he thinks he still has me on, but either way, I won’t let him worm his way in, not when I’m so vulnerable. “No, she won’t ever be me, but that was your choice and now you’re stuck with her. Or you can find someone else. It doesn’t matter, because we’re over.”

  I imagined saying something like that in my head more than once, but it always ended in what-if questions. What if I regret it? What if I say it and I can’t ever take it back?

  But now I’ve said it out loud and I haven’t crumpled with instant remorse. In fact, it felt oddly liberating. Jed has all but vanished from my thoughts since I’ve come to Alaska.

  All because of Henry.

  The man who has left me brimming with a full range of emotions. Who I began to care for deeply. Who has lied to me, hurt me, threatened me.

  Who I have blackmailed.

  Who maybe, just maybe, I may have hurt. Because why else would he so swiftly fire Michael? Why else would he so quickly turn so cruel?

  It will never excuse the fact that he slept with Roshana and her friend on Saturday night, and that’s the only reason I was even in Michael’s bed that night. He probably thought I wouldn’t find out. He, of all people, should know how word spreads around here. Cameras, everywhere. Eyes, everywhere.

  Or maybe he just plain didn’t care if I ever found out, because he also assumed I’d accept it, the same way that I basically accepted how badly Jed treated me.

  If there is one positive outcome to this entire mess with Henry, it’s that my small-town farm-girl naivety has been effectively squashed.

  “Come on, Abigail.”

  So lost in my thoughts, I forgot that I have Jed in my ear. “Come on, what?” I wipe away the tear that trickles down my cheek. Not for Jed. For the cruel disappointment that is Henry.

  “You know we’re meant to be together.”

  I watch a family of ducks float along the edge of the water, weaving in and out of the rocky shoreline, three of the four little ducklings following their mama in a row while the fourth veers off course, earning a loud squawk of annoyance until it gets back in line. Only to veer away again, like it wants to go on its own path. “We were meant to be together, and then you broke us. And honestly? I think I’m glad you did. Otherwise I’d still be floating along in the line like that duck, going exactly where Mama wants me to go.” I’m in a world of hurt and anger right now, and yet for some reason I still don’t regret coming to Alaska, or falling for Henry. I probably should.

  Maybe I’ve gone from being pathetic to just plain screwed up.

  “Duck? What duck?”

  “The family of ducks on the water! The ones—” I roll my eyes at myself. Why am I explaining anything to Jed? “Nothing.”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t still love me. We’ll be more than friends again one day. You’ll see. You’re just being stubborn but, whether you realize it or not, you’re waiting for me.”

  Jed always was a bit too confident for his own good. I’d grown so used to it that I never really noticed it anymore. But now I do, and it sparks the fit of rage that should have hit me when he told me to wait for him—to save myself for him—all those months ago.

  “I am not waiting for you! And it’s
Abbi, not Abigail!” My voice echoes across the cove, sending the ducks speeding away and likely disturbing guests at the hotel. I hang up and stick my phone into my pocket before I do what I really want to do right now—pitch it as far as I can into the water so I never have to talk to anyone from Greenbank, Pennsylvania, again.

  “So she can get angry.”

  I gasp and jump at the deep male voice before heaving a sigh. “What do you want, Ronan?”

  His boots scrape across the dock. “You’re in my spot.”

  “Your spot?”

  “I come down here every night after dinner. So, yeah, it’s my spot.” He eases down beside me, crossing his legs beneath him. In one hand he has a beer, and the other a cigarette, which surprises me because I never saw him smoke at work.

  “Fine.” I make to stand.

  “I’m kidding. Stay for a bit.” He sticks the cigarette between his lips and flicks the lighter to it. When he peers over to see me glaring at him and it, he merely shrugs.

  We sit in silence, me staring out at the water and trying to memorize the beauty of this peaceful night, the sun still high in the sky, the water calm and blue, while Ronan quietly puffs away, the stench of the smoke wafting through the air.

  “You’re polluting Alaska.”

  “Yeah, I know, but it goes hand in hand with the beer.” He adjusts himself and his leg bumps against mine.

  I instinctively pull back, tucking my knees up under my arms, to rest my chin on and bring some warmth to my body. The evening chill is already in the air, and I’m wishing I brought a warmer sweater.

  “Who was the guy on the phone?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Nobody that you’re not waiting for?”

  “Exactly.”

  He takes another long drag. “So, he cheated on you?”

  I frown and replay my conversation.

  “Cammie,” he offers.

  Great. Ronan was standing there and listening for awhile.