Six Months

by Dark, Dannika

  “Trevor.”

  “And I suppose you read Shakespeare,” he said sarcastically, setting the book back down.

  “Why are you trying to make me ashamed of what I like? It’s a novel. There are stories in there about love and adventures, and yes, sometimes there’s sex.”

  “I’m not judging you, April. I think it’s sexy as hell you read this kind of stuff. I don’t know about these word choices, but it sounds classier than some of those magazines.”

  A laugh burst out of my mouth. “Magazines? Exactly what kind of literature are you reading?”

  “A man has needs,” he said in a low voice.

  “You don’t strike me as a man who has trouble getting women. I didn’t picture you as the magazine type. Do you order them off the Internet or buy them at the gas station?”

  His brow arched and he grabbed a cookie, shoving it into his mouth without any twisting, licking, or nibbling. “So, are you trying to make me feel ashamed about what I read? That’s a little hypocritical.”

  “Are we reading those magazines, or just admiring the racy photographs?” I gave a spirited laugh and Reno handed me the milk. Then I realized I probably had chocolate teeth and took a long sip, putting the cookies aside.

  “What’s it like? Shifting, I mean. Does it hurt?”

  “No. It feels like… I don’t know how to explain it,” he said, rubbing his chin. “It’s like sliding into a pool of water or something. I can only remember a few minutes into my shift—after that, my wolf takes over.”

  “And you don’t remember anything after that?”

  “Zip. Total blackout. It’s like that for most of us. Alphas are more likely to remember the entire shift because they have control of their animal, although I’ve heard stories about others who weren’t alphas having the same talent. I don’t know how they do it. I personally enjoy having a break.”

  I pulled up my legs and twisted the frayed edges surrounding the hole in my jeans. “Were you born that way?”

  “Yeah. I’m a different species than you.”

  “Can you turn other people into one through a bite?”

  The room grew silent and I kept playing with the strip of fabric, pretending I didn’t notice he was watching me closely.

  “I can’t make you one of us, if that’s what you’re asking. This isn’t a curse that’s transmitted like a disease. You need to erase all those fictional werewolf stories you’ve watched in movies made to vilify what humans don’t understand. We’re not werewolves; Shifters are the spirits of man and animal inhabiting one body. Long ago, humans knew what we were. Man kills what he fears or doesn’t understand. Sometimes they kill out of jealousy. It’s why we’ve separated from your kind and live in secret.”

  “Just curious.”

  “That’s fine. I don’t expect you to wrap your head around it all at once. It’s not every day you learn that the big bad wolf is real,” he said with a dark chuckle.

  Reno stood up and unloaded several cans of vegetables into an overhead cabinet. I got the rest of the bags out of the truck and decided to give the trailer a deep clean like it had never known before. I turned on a small radio and we listened to Billy Joel and some blues while we worked. Little did Reno know that I worshipped Billy Joel, although after me singing every word without missing a beat, maybe he figured it out. But he didn’t complain about my taste in music and I liked that. It was romantic listening to John Lee Hooker’s “Boom Boom” while Reno stripped out of his shirt and fixed my trailer in nothing but his black pants and socks.

  Once I had my fill of eye candy, I closed the curtain to my bedroom and began to decorate. I was so excited when the comforter was spread across the bed that I leapt on top of it and let out a squeal. I took out the e-reader that Trevor had bought for me and read a few chapters. Then I dozed off for a few minutes. Or maybe it was an hour.

  When I opened my eyes, Reno was hanging up a new curtain. He had stripped down the makeshift one I’d made from a sheet. His was made from white lace—so breathtakingly delicate and beautiful. I reached over and flipped on my new orange lamp, softening the glow in the room.

  “This’ll look better,” he said, sliding it along the track. “You like it?”

  “Love it,” I said sleepily.

  Etta James sang “Misty Blue” in the background and the rain created a symphony of sound against the roof overhead.

  Reno pointed to the corner by the door. “No more leak,” he said proudly.

  “Thanks so much for your help.”

  I wanted to freeze-frame that night and make all the bad things disintegrate into ashes and blow away.

  Reno scratched his shoulder and crossed his arms, standing in the corner and looking uncomfortable as hell. “What are those?” he asked, pointing to a small shelf on the wall.

  I looked at the low shelf on my right and smiled. “Snow globes. My dad used to give them to me when I was little, but I stopped collecting them after he died. The water evaporated in a couple of the smaller ones.”

  I had a total of fourteen. My dad had initiated a tradition when I was born where he gave me one every Christmas. He always managed to make it have a personal connection or a special meaning. Like the father-and-daughter one on the left. It was only after his death that my grandma told me that he had made them. She said it was his secret hobby and that he’d search for just the right pieces and put them all together to personalize it.

  Reno’s eyes lit with interest as he looked between all of them.

  “Will you lie beside me?” I asked. “Keep me company for a little while?”

  Without a word, he crossed to the left side of the room and sat on the edge of the bed. I glanced up at his back, tempted to touch it, but kept my hands folded across my stomach. Then he threw his heavy legs on the bed and reclined onto the fluffy pillow. Our arms touched and a grin eased across his face.

  “This is nice. The mirrors look good up there,” he said, pointing to the left.

  “I didn’t think you’d be able to get them up because of these walls. Makes the room seem bigger.” They were small mirrors and he had bought some strong adhesives to mount them.

  I glanced down at his socks and sat up. Wet socks, the closer I looked. “You are not wearing wet socks in my new bed, Reno Cole.”

  I peeled one off and he hooked his hands around my waist, trying to pull me back. I giggled and grabbed his foot, tickling the bottom.

  I’m not sure if tickling a man is ever a good idea, because he had a knee-jerk reaction and almost bucked me off the bed. He gripped the hem of my jeans and pulled me fast into his arms. I curled up beside him, my head resting on his shoulder and my right arm draped across his bare chest like a sash. I tried to be subtle as I inhaled so Reno wouldn’t notice I was sniffing him, but I couldn’t help but think he smelled inexplicably wonderful.

  “Why do you have a man on your wall?”

  My eyes skimmed over to the poster. “That’s not a man. That’s Billy Joel.”

  “Old boyfriend?” he asked.

  “That would be some serious cradle robbing if that was true.”

  He paused. “How old are you?”

  I wondered if age mattered to him. Reno looked to be in his thirties. “I’ll be twenty-three soon. What are your favorite foods?”

  “Mexican, and sometimes Thai,” he said.

  My ear pressed against his chest and the rumbling vibrations tickled my cheek when he spoke. It was comforting to feel and hear him up close.

  “Thai is unusual. I had Vietnamese food once.”

  He chuckled. “Not the same. What about you?”

  “My favorite is home cooking. Beef stew, casseroles, greens—all that good Southern food. Not many restaurants around here specialize in that unless they’re a chain. It’s all fast food.”

  Reno mumbled in agreement. “How many men have you dated?”

  “One.” I replied quickly before my inner voice piped up and I chickened out.

  He stopped breathi
ng. “One?”

  I could feel his heart pounding against my forearm. “I didn’t date until I went to college. One Saturday, I went to the movies with my sister and ran into this dashing young man in the lobby and spilled his popcorn. We talked for a few minutes before the movie started and exchanged numbers, but I didn’t think he’d call me.”

  “How serious was it?”

  Did I hear jealousy in his voice?

  “He was… well, he was my first. Things were beginning to get serious between us, or so I thought. But then he started cheating on me. I know a lot of men cheat, but he did it frequently with my best friend and we haven’t spoken since then.”

  “I don’t believe that. Only one man has ever seen you naked?”

  That was an embarrassing way to put it. It felt like a hot spotlight was burning down on me.

  “Do Shifters get married?”

  Reno rubbed the side of his nose and angled his body toward me. A burst of tingles moved down my body, and I thought about the restrained passion in our kiss. “Something like that. All a man has to do is declare a woman as his mate and his pack will respect their union. We don’t use rings or tattoos to prove we’re mated. If someone asks, we tell them. Usually what happens is the couple will gather with the local Packmasters to witness their vows.”

  “What are the vows you say?”

  Reno shrugged. “I’ve never been to one. I don’t think there’s a script or anything,” he said with a chuckle. “They probably take a vow to protect and die for each other. They sign a document to keep it on record in case there are disputes within the pack or other troubles. Word usually spreads and most of us don’t encroach on someone’s territory. We mate for life.”

  “So no dress or church?”

  “Our customs aren’t the same as yours. Being life mates isn’t about a party.”

  I smiled and thought about how much money humans spent on weddings. “Did Lexi mate with Austin?”

  His breath warmed the top of my head as he spoke. “Yeah. Austin’s claim on her is as good as gold, but her mother wants a wedding. I didn’t ask if they signed the papers, but all the local packs know they’re life mates. Nobody messes with a Packmaster’s woman.”

  “Well, if she has a wedding, I hope I’m invited.”

  “April? Do you want to get serious with me?”

  The music faded and thunder rolled outside. My finger traced a small circle on his chest. “I won’t live as long as you will, and I’m guessing by how old you implied you are that you age slowly. I don’t. Let’s enjoy tonight, because I’m not sure if by tomorrow I’m going to feel the same way as I do right now in your arms. We’re too different for this to work.”

  “I like different,” he said, brushing his right hand through my hair.

  “And in thirty years when I’m fifty, are you still going to like different?”

  Reno didn’t answer.

  Chapter 15

  When I opened my eyes, I found myself bathed in a pool of sunlight. The magic of the night before with the soft orange glow of the lamp, the feel of Reno’s warm body beside mine, the newness of my life, and the sound of blues music had melted away into a distant echo. It brought a pang of sadness because I had fallen deeply in love with a shining moment in my life, one I would treasure in my mind for years to come. Not just discovering that the world wasn’t what I thought it was, but allowing someone to give me hope again.

  When Reno had fixed my leak, bought me food, and hung a pretty curtain in my doorway, it returned a normalcy that I had long desired. I’d spent so much time focusing on getting away from my life, and Reno made me see that I could have everything I wanted right here. Living better was a state of mind that only required a few extra dollars, not a fancy job that paid a lot of money. It reminded me that I wouldn’t always have this debt, and if I worked hard enough, I’d eventually have a place of my own, one that wasn’t a hand-me-down, maybe even a house.

  Last night had surpassed anything I had read in my romance novels or imagined in my fantasies because it was real, and it was mine.

  I stretched out my legs beneath the crisp sheets. I had no recollection of how my jeans got removed, but my socks and black shirt were untouched. Reno’s side of the bed was neatly made—the bedspread was pulled so tight I could bounce a quarter off it.

  I reached for my phone to check my messages. Nothing from Trevor.

  Reno hadn’t left a note, but the keys to his truck were on my kitchen table in front of a red apple. I snatched the fresh fruit and took a few juicy bites. With the money deposited into the Sweet Treats account, I now had to turn my attention to Sanchez. Instead of calling, because I’d go ballistic at him for what he did to Trevor, I left a text message of where to meet me for the exchange.

  My terms.

  If he wanted more cash, then he needed to tell me before our meeting. I had no intentions of showing up only to find out I was going to be short on my payment. No more negotiations; this would be the final transaction.

  Screw his abandoned warehouses and screw his mind games. If he wanted his money, then he’d have to meet me at the mall. I wasn’t about to get myself chopped up into pieces, never to be found again, because I’d decided to meet a maniac alone. I’d learned my lesson after the first time and wanted to take every precaution. This wasn’t something I had any experience doing, and if he continued coming after me, I’d either buy a gun or call the police. I had little faith the cops would do much outside of filing a report, and I was uncertain if I’d done something illegal in doing business with a loan shark. I didn’t know the laws, but if they found out I’d taken money out of the business account, I’d really be in legal trouble. The most I could get against Sanchez would probably be a restraining order, and a lot of good that would do me living alone in the parks.

  I took a quick shower and put on a pair of knee-length shorts, sneakers, and a sweatshirt. A clip held some of my bangs away from my face and I passed on the perfume and makeup. I had no desire to look or smell attractive for this man. Unfortunately, his money was in my brown purse, so I headed over to Lexi’s to pick it up.

  An hour later, I arrived at Austin’s house and knocked on the door. I heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching and the door swung open.

  My eyes traveled upward, landing on a stern-looking man with lots of tattoos on his arms. A wolf, justice scales, a dagger—a myriad of images were married to his flesh and created a staggering display of imagery. A black sleeveless shirt hugged his body and it was then that I noticed his eyes. They were the palest of brown with flecks of gold in the irises. They glittered like amber and warm honey, standing out against his dark features and brooding expression. I glanced at his bare feet as he leaned on the doorjamb and stared down his nose at me.

  “What a pleasure to see you again, April,” he said insincerely.

  What the heck did I ever do to this guy? Ben might have been a flirtatious handful, but Wheeler was too belligerent for my liking.

  “I left my purse upstairs and came by to pick it up.”

  His eyes scratched down the length of my body with a judgmental sting. “Speaking of pickups, is that our truck you’re driving around?”

  A flush of heat touched my cheeks. “Reno lent it to me.”

  “That so?”

  I looked directly into his eyes and stared. Didn’t blink, didn’t look away. I wasn’t in the mood for games—not after everything I’d been through in the last twenty-four hours. I also didn’t like imperious jackasses who sought to deflect attention from their own problems by instigating verbal warfare against someone else. His brows sloped down at a menacing angle and he tipped his head to the side, neither of us speaking a word as the sound of a distant airplane flew overhead.

  “Wheeler, you’re letting all the cold air out. Who’s at the… oh, April! Please come in,” Ivy insisted, nudging Wheeler out of the way and taking my hand. “Would you like some tea? I just took it out of the sun.”

  “No, thanks. I c
an’t stay. I left in a hurry and forgot my purse, so I stopped by to pick it up.”

  Her full lips curled in as she licked them, and she glared at Wheeler with intolerant eyes while he held up the doorframe, still scorching me with a heated gaze.

  “Then you’ll join us for dinner,” she insisted. “Lexi feels terrible about the party and talked about having you over for dinner. I make a delicious pot roast and I’d love to have you join us.” She briefly glanced at Wheeler. “I think it’s no secret what we are. We’re no different from you, April. We have our own issues and disputes, but we also have unity and value a family environment. A pack in itself is a family, but we mate for life and work out our differences. I’m sure if Jericho had laced cupcakes at a human party, it could have gotten out of hand very quickly, but the Packmasters kept us in line and broke up the party at the first sign of trouble. Please,” she said, reaching out to hold my wrist. “I insist we make it up to you. Will you give us a second chance? You’re a loyal friend to Lexi and she thinks highly of you.”

  Wheeler turned around and muttered, “Didn’t take you for a pet lover, Ivy.”

  Her serene face showed that he hadn’t ruffled her feathers. “Is seven o’clock okay? We’ll have white wine and talk on the porch after supper. It’ll be a relaxed atmosphere and a good time, so what you’re wearing is fine. Come with me. Let’s get your purse and you can think it over.”

  ***

  Ivy had been blessed with the gift of convincing people to do things they didn’t want to do. At least she wasn’t asking me to go skydiving. I agreed to stop by later that evening and have dinner with the pack, and she extended the invitation to Trevor.

  When I arrived at the mall to meet with Sanchez, I looked as if I’d just rolled out of bed in my long shorts and sweatshirt. All the teens were glammed up, parading around in their satiny lipstick and designer jeans, hoping to grab the attention of one of the hot boys hanging out by the music shop.