by C. C. Hunter
“I’m fine,” he said. His eyes widened. “They were right?”
“What?”
“The tattoo on your arm. Della told me about it.”
She glanced down. It was back. Even bigger. “It’ll go away. It did before.” She hoped.
“You don’t know what it means?”
She watched as the swirl pattern moved higher, past-her-elbow high. “No. I’m clueless.”
“Do you think the witch could have put a curse on you?” he asked.
“I’ve never heard of a tattoo curse.” She looked up and their gazes met, locked, and it started hurting again. He’d left her and just within a few minutes she felt it all again. All the things he’d meant to her.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“I told you. I thought you were hurt really bad and you called me.”
“So the only reason you came is because you thought I was dying?” She regretted the words, and the attitude in which she’d said them, the nanosecond they spilled from her lips. But damn it. He’d hurt her.
“It’s not the only reason.” He glanced at his feet, shuffled them around as if hoping they’d kick up some words he could use. Finally, he looked up. “I know you’re seeing Shawn and I’m not asking you to … to break up.”
Was he really saying this? “You left me. You left me twice.”
“I know. Look … what I’m asking is if we can … be friends.”
“Friends?”
“Yeah. Could I come back and see you sometimes? I wouldn’t try anything.” His lips fluttered again, forecasting a smile. “Next time you walk into a room and start taking your clothes off, I’ll try really hard to speak up.”
His humor was lost on her.
“I promise to keep my hands to myself. We can just talk. We used to talk all the time. I miss that. I’d come back every week or so. What do you think?”
He shuffled his feet again. “What? Shawn won’t let you?”
“Shawn doesn’t tell me what to do.” Then what he’d said earlier hit another chord. A painful one. “So all you want to be is friends?”
“Hell no! But I figure it’s a start. How else am I going to convince you that you should be with me and not him? Give me a second chance, Miranda.”
“I was giving you a second chance when you came back from Paris and then you … left. Again.” She remembered what her sister had said about him leaving because she’d been going to the hospital to see Shawn. Part of her knew that was true. Maybe she’d even done it because he’d hurt her. She’d wanted him to fight for her. He hadn’t fought.
“Okay, a third chance.” He ran a hand through his hair. His blond strands landed in almost the same position—giving a windblown bad-boy surfer appearance.
He swallowed as if struggling for words. “Look, I know I shouldn’t have left like that, but I had to … I needed to work through things with my parents. And … you were seeing Shawn. I didn’t think … I could compete with him.”
“I told you I wasn’t seeing him as a girlfriend. Maybe I—”
“I know … but it hurt. I already needed to prove something to myself about my parents. So I … decided to go.”
“What did you need to prove?”
“Just … stuff.” He grinned. “You know, if I came by these good looks naturally.”
That smile. That laugh was as transparent as thin glass.
“Stop,” she said.
“Stop what?” he asked.
“Trying to cover up how you really feel by joking. I see through that every time.”
He shrugged again, this time deeper, as if trying to loosen the pain in his heart.
She looked him dead in the eyes. “Just say you don’t want to talk about it. Don’t play those games with me.”
He blinked. “Okay, no games. I don’t want to…” He stopped, the hurt in his eyes brighter. “I’m still figuring things out. Give me some time. When I understand, I’ll talk to you about it. I always talked to you about things. Didn’t I?”
“Yeah.” She flinched. His pain echoed inside her.
His phone dinged with a text. He pulled it out of his jean pocket and frowned. “It’s Burnett. He’s upset that I didn’t go straight to see him.” He met her eyes. “I should probably go before he sends someone to get me.”
He slipped the phone into his back pocket. “If I finish in time, can I swing by before I leave?”
It was a simple yes or no question. Why did it feel so big? She nodded.
“And later, every week or so, I’ll come home. Just to talk?”
Before she even realized she was doing it, she nodded again.
He smiled, a real it’s-Christmas-morning kind of smile—the sadness about his parents gone. His expression was so beautiful, her ribs hugged her heart and the air went back to tasting like birthday cake.
He started to reach for her, but caught himself. “No touching. See? I remember.”
He moved to the door, reached for the knob, and hesitated. He glanced back—that sweet smile still on his lips. “Thank you.”
She gave him another beyond-her-control nod.
He left.
She inhaled. No sugary, birthday-cake smell anymore. No fresh wind-and-hot-boy scent. Just the astringent odor of the hospital, and the bitter smell of a startling realization. A cold, oh-shit realization.
She had just agreed to start seeing Perry again. “Only as friends,” she whispered aloud, but it left her tongue like a lie.
For Goddess’ sakes, what have I done? But there was no taking it back.
Nope. It was done. She was going to be spending time with Perry.
How in hell was she going to explain this to Shawn?
* * *
Perry left the hospital, his smile still in place, and did one leap of joy and a fist pump in the night air. She’d agreed to see him. Just see him, but that was a start. A really, really good start.
For one second his mind churned on how Miranda was going to explain this to Shawn. Hopefully the warlock would finally see that Miranda still had feelings for him and back off. He could hope. Not that he would blame the guy if he didn’t give up without a fight. Miranda was that special. But she was Perry’s special someone.
He’d known it from the first time he’d laid eyes on her over three years ago, the first time he’d met her at the summer camp. He hadn’t even spoken to her the first year. But he’d spent time shape-shifting into every kind of animal there was, just so he could hang around her. The second year, he started teasing her a little. The third, they finally became more than friends.
Happy for the first time in months and feeling light on his feet, he jogged to the back of the hospital behind a brick wall and the garbage Dumpster to turn. Right before he stopped, his phone rang. Probably Burnett. The guy could be relentless.
Certain it was Burnett, he answered before checking the number. “I’m on my way.” He hoped Burnett couldn’t hear the sheer happiness in his tone, but then again, he didn’t care. He wanted to shout this feeling to the world.
“On your way where?” The voice wasn’t Burnett’s. Immediately it felt as if someone had stuck a pin in his happy balloon. Even the buoyancy in his steps changed.
“To see my girl, like I told you,” he said. “I thought you were her.”
“Where are you?” his father asked, and Perry listened to see if he heard suspicion in his old man’s voice, but didn’t get it.
“I told you. In Houston.”
“Where about in Houston?” he asked.
“Why?” Perry asked, hearing suspicion in his own voice. All these years of being a shape-shifter, he should be an expert at putting up fronts, but for some reason with his dad it was hard.
“Because your mom and I are in Houston. I thought we might drop by and meet your girl.”
Shit! “Not happening,” he said.
“Why?”
You mean besides the fact that I’m not there? “Not happening,” he repeated.
“You ashamed of your parents?”
Yeah. He was. And the fact that his dad had to ask that was almost funny. “We’re just starting. It’s not time to meet the parents.” And it would never be that time.
“Okay. But when you’re done tapping some girl’s ass, meet us at the bar, 2323 Handle Street. We got a room not too far away, but your mom wants to get a buzz on and she hears they serve the best wines in town.”
So not happening! He could almost tolerate his dad’s presence, but his mom when sober was difficult, when drunk, impossible. “Why don’t I just get back to Dallas in the morning?”
“Because we’re not working in Dallas anymore.”
“Why aren’t we working in Dallas?”
“Jax called. He’s sending us somewhere else.”
“What for?”
“A job.”
“So we’re going to be in Houston?”
“He hasn’t said where. Just that he needs a face-to-face. He really wants to meet you. I told you he was getting tired of Caleb’s screwups.”
“So Caleb’s out?” Perry asked.
“Not completely. But he will be after I chat with Jax.”
“Who is this Jax guy anyway?” Perry asked.
“You’ll learn soon enough, son. Just do what your daddy says and I’m gonna make you a rich man and you’ll be able to snag you a fine woman like your mom.”
Oh, yeah, that’s what Perry wanted. To find a woman who would abandon her own son and push her husband into a life of crime so she could drink expensive wine and dress like she was twenty. What was sad was his dad honestly loved the woman. “It will be late,” he said.
“Then come to our room. You can crash here. We got two beds. It’s the Marriott Hotel right off Main and Fifth in downtown.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.” He started to hang up.
“Fine,” his father snapped. “But be here early. We’re supposed to be at Jax’s place by nine.”
Interesting. “So Jax lives in Houston?”
“Yeah.”
“Where?”
“Just be here by eight. And stop asking questions. It makes you sound like you have ulterior motives.”
I do. “What kind of motives could I have? I just don’t like being told what to do.”
“I’m your father. I can tell you what to do and I deserve respect.”
“Not really.” Perry flinched when he realized he’d said that aloud. He’d been around his father for a month and had managed to keep his mouth shut. Why was it getting harder?
“Just get your ass here by eight! Prove to me that my son is worth a damn.” His dad hung up.
Perry kicked at a discarded beer can. It clanked against the Dumpster and rang out in the night. A night that until just a few minutes ago had held promise.
He stood there, the smell of garbage thickening the air. He blew out a cloud of frustration, angry he’d allowed his dad to chase away his joy at seeing Miranda. Angry that with one conversation he felt it again. The emptiness. He needed something. Something he couldn’t even name.
Maybe it was all in his head.
Hadn’t he felt complete when he’d been with Miranda? Wasn’t that enough?
The temptation to tell Burnett everything he knew and just back off swelled in his chest. Burnett was probably going to insist on it.
His dad’s words echoed in his head. Prove to me that my son is worth a damn.
The muscles in Perry’s shoulders tightened.
He couldn’t.
He wouldn’t back off.
He didn’t care what Burnett said.
His dad was right. He needed to prove his something. Maybe his worth. But not to his father.
Not to Burnett.
Not even to Miranda.
But to himself.
Was it that easy? Perry wondered. Was that all he needed? His gut said no. There was something more. Until he had it, he wasn’t walking away.
Chapter Nine
Shawn stared through the two-way mirror watching Lily Chambers fidget in the adjacent interrogation room. Occasionally, she’d get up and pace the room like a trapped lion. Right now, she squirmed in the chair, worry marring her pretty face. Not that he felt bad—well, a little about her getting shocked—but she needed to fret. He ran his tongue over his swollen lip and watched her lift her restrained hands and set them on the table. She let out a deep exhale of frustration then dropped her forehead on her locked, fisted hands.
He’d deactivated the cuffs but hadn’t removed them. He already had two blows from her, three if you counted the chip off his pride.
How had he let the girl who barely weighed a hundred pounds get the upper hand on him? He could understand it if she were full vampire. She wasn’t.
He heard her first soft sob, and his chest tightened. Why the hell was he feeling sorry for her? She’d brought this down on herself.
The door behind Shawn swung open. Burnett, Chase, and Lucas all walked in. Chase, a vampire, and Lucas, a werewolf, were the boyfriends of Miranda’s two roommates, and both of them worked for the FRU. So Shawn spent a lot of time with them, even considered them friends.
“Damn it!” Lily Chambers muttered, rubbing her tears off her cheek with her shoulder.
“Whatcha got?” Burnett’s gaze lingered on the girl behind the glass. He frowned as if seeing the girl cry didn’t suit him, either. It made Shawn feel a little better.
Then Burnett looked at Shawn’s face. “What the hell happened to you?”
“It’s nothing.” Shawn touched his busted lip. He hadn’t taken the time to look at it yet. Was it that noticeable?
“Nothing? Half your friggin’ face is blue.”
Shawn pointed to the two-way mirror. “She got me with her foot.”
“You got beat up by a girl?” Chase snickered. Lucas did the same.
Shawn could swear he even heard Burnett hold back a chuckle.
“She’s tougher than she looks. She tried to run after I put the cuffs on her and got herself zapped. It barely fazed her.”
“You shocked … her?” Lucas asked, his blue eyes widening.
“I didn’t do it. She kicked me in the face and ran.” Shawn pushed away his annoyance, his thoughts turning to Miranda. “Have you got anything about who blew the house up?”
“Nothing other than proof the cops are right,” Chase answered. “We found all kinds of drugs in what was left of the house. Meth, cocaine, marijuana.”
“And Anthony?” Shawn asked. “Did you figure out why he was there?”
“No,” Burnett answered this time. “I had another agent question him. Someone who doesn’t know him.”
“And?” Shawn asked, not wanting to believe Anthony had any involvement, but if he was wrong, he’d personally like to teach his new French friend a lesson.
“He told the truth on most things.”
“Most things?” Shawn asked.
“That he’s not dealing drugs and wouldn’t hurt Tabitha.”
“But?” Shawn asked.
“He’s hiding something. He’d answer the question about why his trace was there with another question.”
“But you got his trace there for sure, right?” Shawn asked.
“I didn’t,” Burnett said. “Della did. She got to the scene before I did.”
“Could she be wrong?” Shawn asked.
“Not Della,” Chase said, quick to defend his girlfriend.
Burnett nodded. “If she says she got it, she got it. The boy’s hiding something.”
“What could he be hiding?” Shawn searched his mind for clues that told him Anthony was dirty.
“I think he’s protecting someone,” Burnett answered.
“Protecting who?” Shawn asked. “He’s been here less than a month. He spends all his time with Tabitha.”
“I know, but he’s living with an uncle. And he has two cousins. As soon as I’m done here, I’m going to go see his family.”
“You want me to question Anthony?�
�� Shawn asked. “He might—”
“No. I let him go,” Burnett focused again on the two-way mirror.
“You what?” Shawn asked, certain he’d misunderstood.
Burnett looked back at him. “I’m having him followed. If my instincts are right, he’ll lead us to someone who knows something more than he does.”
“Who do you have on him?” Shawn asked.
“Agent Brown,” he said. “They’ve never met so his trace won’t be familiar. And Brown just texted me. Anthony went back to the hospital.”
“I’ve met the guy several times,” Lucas said. “He seems to care about Tabitha.”
“I liked him,” Chase said. “I can’t believe he’s up to no good.”
“I know,” Burnett said. “I don’t believe he’s behind this, but he knows more than he’s telling.”
“Is he our only lead right now?” Shawn directed the question to Lucas, knowing he’d been working the case.
“Right now, yes,” Lucas said. “I’ve got a meeting in an hour to speak to the landlord of the drug house. Chase is going to canvas the neighborhood.”
Burnett motioned back to the two-way mirror. “So she’s tied to the jewelry store robbery?”
“Yeah,” Shawn said.
“Is she the one you met earlier at the store? The employee?”
“Yeah.” Shawn’s gaze shifted to Lily, and again he felt a tinge of guilt.
“Why do you think she’s in on it?” Burnett asked.
Shawn heard Burnett’s doubt. “She did this, didn’t she?” He motioned to his face with one hand and his bruised ribs with the other.
“She kicked you in the side, too?” Burnett asked, sounding more like a worried parent, than a boss.
“No. She threw a suitcase at me.”
Lucas and Chase grinned. Shawn scowled at them.
“Do you need to be checked by a doctor?” Burnett asked.
“I’m fine,” Shawn insisted.
Burnett gave Lily another glance. “Any evidence other than her being combative?”
Shawn accepted Burnett wasn’t really doubting him. Every good agent gathered facts and asked questions. It still burned. “How much evidence you want? She had her suitcases packed, leaving town with the store’s deposit.”
“Busted,” Chase said.
“And she still hasn’t confessed?” Lucas’s surprise mirrored what Shawn felt.