by Dannika Dark
“True that.”
Denver looked at the property on his right and wrinkled his nose at the repugnant lifestyle. Aaron came from a redneck pack, if there was such a thing. Based on the cars and size of the house, he guessed there were no more than ten packmates. The house resembled an old barn, only someone had added a porch to the front. Denver lifted his visor and glanced at a mess of poison oak growing up the trees straight ahead from where William parked.
“Men who live like this are dangerous,” William said in a low voice as he rolled up their windows. “Careful what you say. We’re just here to deliver the body and a message. Austin will arrange a meeting with Bromus to decide how they want to resolve this.”
“Think he’ll serve us some freshly squeezed lemonade?”
William shut off the engine and gave Denver a death glare. “Don’t start anything. Guys like this want you to cross the line. Look at this dump; he’d love nothing more than to have a powerful pack owe him. We may already owe them for Aaron; that’s to be decided between him and Austin. Try not to kick up any dirt and pee on his territorial lines.”
Denver opened his door and mumbled, “The lawn could use some watering.”
“What’s your business with the Bromus pack?” a man shouted from the left side of the property. It looked as though he’d been working underneath a car from his ruddy complexion and sweat-stained shirt. His hands were greasy, and his black hair was slicked back with sweat and oil. He wiped his hands on his white tank top and left more dirty smears.
William took a dominant position, hands resting at his sides. “We’re here to see Bromus on behalf of Austin Cole, Packmaster of the Weston pack.”
The man took a few steps forward, wiping the sweat from his face with his dirty forearm. He glanced at the couple who were still going at it on the floor of the porch. “Ricky, run inside and tell Bromus we have company.”
Denver shivered with disgust.
“Ricky!”
“Goddammit!” The man rose to his feet and pulled up his pants as he went into the house.
William lowered his voice so only Denver could hear him. “The mechanic must be the second-in-command. Watch him.”
The woman on the porch stood up, blond hair looking as neatly combed as a Barbie doll’s after tumbling in the dryer. She tugged down her brown skirt and smiled at them, showing off her broken tooth. If Denver so much as saw a banjo on the property, he was going to leave William’s ass behind.
The mechanic looked at her and snapped his fingers. “Lucky, get in the house.”
Denver chortled and murmured to William, “Lucky? That’s a bold assumption. I’m not sure which of those two was the luckiest… or unluckiest.”
William elbowed him in the ribs.
Bromus stepped outside, thumbs tucked beneath his blue suspenders as he gave them a stretch. He resembled a construction worker without the hard hat. Maybe it was the thick mustache and broad chest, or maybe it was the fact he was wearing a rugged pair of tan boots that clomped on the ground as he slowly ambled across the dirt yard in their direction.
“Well, well. So you’re from Cole’s pack. That’s a real nice ride you got there,” he said, admiring William’s silver BMW. “I’ve always wanted one of those.”
“This may work out in your favor,” Denver murmured to his packmate.
William ignored him and stepped forward to signal he was the man to talk to. “Austin Cole sent us to speak with you privately. This isn’t a matter for your entire pack to be involved in.”
“My beta stays right where he is. Everyone else is inside.” Bromus drew nearer until he no longer had to shout.
Denver kept a close eye on the mechanic, who was flanking them on their left.
“Very well,” William said. “We haven’t heard any word that you’re missing a packmate, but we know it to be true.”
Bromus furrowed his brow. “You mean Aaron? Yeah, people come and go around here,” he said with an indifferent shrug. “Wasn’t worth reporting.”
“Austin extends his condolences as there was an unfortunate accident.” William signaled for Denver to pop the trunk.
When he did, Bromus walked around and wrinkled his nose, looking down at the bag. “That him?” His eyes rose to meet theirs. “Should I be concerned he’s in a bag and smells days old?”
“Should I be concerned he knows what a body smells like that’s days old?” Denver whispered from behind William.
“At this time, we can’t provide you any details. Austin will reach out to arrange a meeting. He would have come himself, but there was a pack emergency that required his immediate attention.”
“Ah, yes. I heard about blondie. Word spreads fast. Sounds messy. Hope you have the good sense to not put her in a garbage bag and bring her home in the trunk of a car when she kicks the can.” He sneered at the Weston pack’s misfortune.
When Denver took a step forward, William widened his arms and corralled him. If that bastard said one more word about Maizy, Denver was going to crush his face.
William sensed this and blocked his view. “Any questions you have, Austin will be the one to answer. We’re here for delivery only.”
Bromus rubbed his jaw and looked at the bag. “In lieu of flowers, how about I just take your car?”
“Uh,” William sputtered.
Denver shoved at his back. Will wasn’t going to be able to clean out that trunk funk with a fucking blowtorch.
“Actually, I’ve been in the market for a new car, so uh… we extend our condolences. Just let me grab a few things from inside.”
While William dug beneath the seats and in the glove compartment, Denver sized up the mechanic, watching him lift the body from the trunk and toss it by a pile of chopped wood.
Bromus ignored the body and spoke to his second. “Strip out the lining and clean it good.”
“What about Aaron?”
“I need to see what condition he’s in, but let me eat my lunch first. Take him out back.” It seemed as though every breath Bromus drew in from his nose was audible. He folded his arms and looked at the two men closely. “Did either of you have something to do with this?”
Denver stepped in front of William. “We’re not here to kiss your ass. You’ve got the body, you’ve got our car, and you have Austin’s word he’ll be in touch.”
Bromus narrowed his dark eyes. “I don’t like the way you’re talking to me.”
Denver bristled. “Yeah? And I don’t like the way you came into my bar and didn’t leave a tip. You don’t make people work their asses off for free. Maybe you’re used to that around here with your bunnies humping on the porch, but the only way a Packmaster earns my respect is by how he shows respect to others of a lower rank. So fuck your feelings, bro. Take the car and the free cologne that goes with it. We’re outta here.”
Denver gripped William by the collar and hauled him toward the road.
“I’ll be sure to talk to your Packmaster about your attitude!” Bromus shouted at them from a distance.
Denver raised his middle finger in the air. “Suck it.”
“Say, that was smooth,” William said with a sarcastic bite. “Trying to get us off on the right foot after delivering one of his deceased packmates?”
“Bro, we gave him a fucking BMW and he’s going to give us shit? He knows better than that. Our Packmaster sent the message, so questioning us is an attempt to defy Austin. He thinks I offended him? If I’d stayed any longer, I would have insulted his entire fucking ancestry. Anyhow, what are you bitching about? I’m the one who has to walk home barefoot on hot asphalt.”
“Indeed.” William slipped out of his thin jacket and draped it over his shoulder, holding it with his index finger. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing him again.”
Denver didn’t know what to say to that because it was probably true. Bromus could challenge William to the death, throw him in Breed jail, or go to the Council and demand money or land from Austin as compensation. Most Packmasters w
orked out their problems without the Council, but Bromus was the type who would put it on record just to make Austin look bad. That would depend on the facts of the death, which in this case could be perceived as self-defense, but it sure didn’t help their case that they tried burying the body numerous times. Denver didn’t know if Austin was going to tell Bromus the truth regarding that, but it made a flutter of nervous butterflies dance around in his stomach.
Denver stripped out of his shirt and pulled it over his head like a turban.
After a few minutes, William adjusted his sunglasses and finally spoke. “Austin called while your wolf was running the property. He mentioned something about you and Maizy.”
“Yeah? What did he say?”
“You love that girl, don’t you?”
A wistful smile played on Denver’s lips. “What do you think about it?”
William put his left arm around Denver. “I think it’s been a long time in the making. I wasn’t so sure after you stopped visiting her, but I figured her surprise return would knock some sense into your thick skull.”
“You don’t think the pack will have an issue with it since…”
“Since you watched her as a child?” William huffed out a laugh. “This isn’t the human world. You were her watchdog, not her brother, and that’s a position unlike any other. Maybe the reason a guy like you took the job so eagerly is because you’ve always sensed she was the one. Ever think of that?”
Denver shoved him away. “Cut it out with the life-mate shit.”
William brushed back his brown hair. “If there are soul mates, what makes you think the universe would create them at the same time? I think the fates have a sense of humor, and that’s why some never find their other half. Spaced apart by either distance or time. Can’t have our destiny on a silver platter, now can we?”
“She’s human,” Denver reminded him.
“I’ve got a few years on me and I’ve seen some unexplainable things. Before you got the call at the bar that Maizy was in trouble, did you feel… off?”
Denver considered the question. “I felt edgy.”
“I won’t be making any jokes about you two henceforth,” William promised. “I know the pack has gotten in a few jabs, but it’s only because they don’t know where you stand.” William’s shoes crunched on the asphalt and the two spaced apart as Denver walked off the road to give his feet some relief. “So, have you figured out where you stand?”
“I stand by this pack, and I know where else I’d like to stand. Guess it’s up to her when she wakes up if she even wants me beside her.”
William chuckled softly. “Women are fickle creatures. Don’t expect it to be that easy. If you care for her, give her the time she needs. She’ll resent any man who pressures her into something, no matter how much she cares for him.”
Denver reached down and tossed a pebble at William. “Since when did you become Dr. Love?”
“I can’t say I’ve been as fortunate as some, but I’m observant enough to watch the dance. Perhaps I’m patiently waiting myself.”
“Hmm. I don’t recall seeing you go out with anyone, unless you’re hung up on some old lover who’s mated. If so, time to move on, Will.”
William remained uncharacteristically quiet.
Fifteen minutes later, Denver was working up a sweat. While he’d built up a nice tan, his feet were taking a beating on the rough terrain. When a few female motorists passed by, Denver thought his charming smile and firm abs might snag their attention. But all they did was honk as they drove away.
“I’d kill for a bottle of water,” William complained.
Denver glared up at him. “I’d kill for your shoes.”
William’s phone played the A-Team ringtone and he pulled it out of his pocket. Denver slowed his stride when Will stopped and faced the woods. “How long?”
It must have been Austin.
“Had to leave the car, so…” William scratched his temple and glanced around. “It’ll take us another hour or more to get back to the house before we can head over.”
Denver approached William and gripped his arm. “What is it?”
William’s eyes were brimming with worry. “Maizy’s coming out of the coma.”
Without warning, Denver shifted and his wolf ran full speed up the road.
Chapter 17
“Maizy, can you squeeze my hand?”
Through moments of lucidity, voices had been asking me to squeeze their hand and say something. They were loud and persistent. They also liked shining a bright light in my eyes. If I had the energy, I’d sock them in the face. Why couldn’t they just leave me alone? I was so tired… so confused.
“Everything’s looking good,” a man said. “Her blood pressure’s down and we’ve controlled the swelling. She’s responsive, so we’ll just keep a close eye on things.” There was a murmur of voices. “I didn’t see anything concerning on the scans, but we’re not out of the woods yet. We won’t know the extent of damage until she wakes up. She could have cognitive problems, memory loss—”
“Memory loss?” I heard my mother say.
“It’s not uncommon after a traumatic head injury,” he continued. “We’ll keep a close eye on her vitals and see where we are tomorrow. Sometimes once the patient wakes up, the recovery accelerates.”
“Can we talk to her?” I heard Lexi ask.
“A familiar voice is what she needs right now. Based on everything I see, it looks good. Real good. I take it she comes from a strong family of fighters.”
“You got that right,” Austin chimed in.
“So she’s off the ventilator for good?” my mom asked.
“They induced her to control the situation, but in cases of head trauma, I don’t advocate for this kind of treatment for long periods of time except in extreme instances. It’s done to decrease intracranial pressure, but only as a last-ditch effort. Lowering her body temperature helped, and we’ll carefully monitor her. She’s breathing on her own; she’s more responsive with every passing minute. If you want my honest opinion, I think she’s a very lucky woman. I’ll be back in this evening, and we’ll see how it’s looking.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” my mom said, and a door closed. “At least they moved her to a nicer room.”
What kind of dream was this? I tried peering through my lashes again, but everyone appeared blurry. My head hurt, my lip hurt, and…
“How is the little one?” a smooth voice inquired, one that belonged to Prince.
“I need to make some calls,” my mom said. “I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.”
“May I sit with her privately?” Prince asked.
A throat cleared. “I’ll be paying you for the cost of the doctor,” Austin said. “That’s not negotiable. I won’t be in your debt for this one.”
“Where lies your concern, Cole?”
“I think we both know exactly where my concern lies.”
Just as soon as words were spoken, they were lost from my mind. Suddenly the idea of slipping into darkness frightened me because I realized this wasn’t a dream. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I needed to collect my thoughts, as hazy as they were. Yet my ability to speak and move was impaired. I felt drugged, exhausted, confused, and God… my head hurt.
“Just for a minute,” Austin said. “Come on, Ladybug. Let’s get you something to eat.”
“Austin, I should stay with her. What if she wakes up and we’re not here?”
Austin chuckled. “Half the pack is up here. She won’t be alone. Naya called from the lobby and she’s on her way up.”
“Good,” Lexi said in a breath. “Maizy loves her Auntie Naya. Maybe hearing her voice will help.”
I wanted to smile when I heard Lexi say Auntie Naya. In my youth, I was formal in how I addressed everyone. Miss Ivy and Mister Wheeler—no one went by just their first name except for Denver. He was always my Denny for as long as I could remember.
“Maizy, can you hear me?” Prince asked.
A warm hand smoothed over my arm. My throat was dry and sore; all I could think about was how I wanted a sip of water.
“I’ve got the best doctors taking care of you, and the prognosis looks good. It could have gone another way, so I hope you consider my offer more seriously. I still want you as my mate, and it deeply concerns me that you’re still mortal.”
Some of this was beginning to make sense. I was remembering bits and pieces from different time periods. A memory flashed in my head of Lexi covering my mark when I was a little girl, another of wolves running across an open field, a glimpse of Denver’s smiling face, and then Prince’s warm, multicolored eyes gazing down at me. The same eyes from many years ago when I was a child—headlights drawing my attention to them as he knelt down.
“Are you lost, little girl?” he’d asked me.
Am I? I’m so lost, I thought to myself.
“I’m a generous man,” Prince continued. “You have nothing to fear by accepting my offer. No one could take better care of you.” His hand continued stroking my arm. “You’re far too lovely to die so soon, and there’s so much you could offer me in return. It’s a great honor to be a Shifter, and a part of me will always be in you.”
“Who gave you permission to come in here?” a stern voice growled from a distance.
Prince’s hand drew away. “Your Packmaster.”
I’d never heard Denver’s voice sound so dangerous. “Get out.”
Prince’s steps thudded across the floor, and his voice grew distant. “Careful how you speak to me, wolf. She’s alive because of my generosity.”
Alive?
I fought to open my eyes. The sounds, the smells, the sensations—I realized I was in a hospital. But why? Their words buzzed around me like busy bees, and a swarm of conversation rose and fell in volume and intensity. Now that I was becoming more lucid, I worked harder to pay attention.
Soon it was quiet again and the door closed.
A warm hand smoothed over my arm. This one felt different. Rougher. “Hey, Peanut. They told me you’re ready to Hula-Hoop on roller skates.”