by Melissa Haag
And there she was, telling me it wasn’t going to happen. But, she didn’t know about the pull. About werewolves. About me. When she did understand, she’d change her song. However, I could see this wasn’t the moment to tell her. Not with her standing there all wary and defensive.
“I see. Michelle, when I saw you in the diner, and again when you faced David, I knew you needed a friend.”
She stayed quiet a moment.
“Friendship might be more than I can manage,” she said, finally.
I nodded, sad for her, and looked down at the movie in my hands. I lifted it slightly and looked up at her with a half-smile.
“So, is that a no to a movie?”
“It’s a yes to the movie and a no to anything else.”
“Fair enough.”
She sat on the couch while I started the movie. The squeal of the machine didn’t annoy me as it once had. I’d gotten used to it over the years.
For the next two hours, we sat side by side, not quite touching. The rumble of Michelle’s truck echoed distantly before the final scene. It sucked that Jim would be home before I could talk to her again, but maybe it was for the best.
Just as the movie ended, Jim walked through the door and plopped down onto the couch next to Michelle. He grinned at me and slipped an arm around Michelle’s shoulders. She didn’t seem to mind.
“Where do you work?” she asked, turning to him.
I was going to kick his ass later. Standing, I went to turn off the television.
“Roadside construction. Thanks for letting me use your truck,” he said. Then, in the reflection of the TV, I watched him kiss her cheek.
“You need to shower,” I said without turning.
Winifred, I’m going to kill him.
Your mother will never forgive you.
She’ll get over it. Eventually.
Jim laughed and sauntered back to the bathroom.
Michelle stood, too.
“Thanks for the movie, Emmitt.”
I nodded, unable to turn around and look at her as she left because my canines were showing.
Once I knew she was out of hearing, I stood and went to lean against the bathroom door.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
Despite the running water and the closed door, Jim heard me.
“Showing you how it’s done. You’re making this way too hard. You know she’s the one, start putting some moves on her.”
“You’re the one who said she wasn’t ready.”
“For the truth. Every girl is ready for some moves.”
“I’ve got some moves for you,” I said with a growl.
“You’re not my type.”
I slapped a hand on the door and walked away as Michelle called the kids inside for the evening.
Settling in for another long night, I went to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Winifred joined me not long afterward.
“Jim still breathing?” she asked with a smile.
Jim walked out of the bathroom just then.
“Always. Emmitt loves me.”
I rubbed a hand over my brow. “If you were so sure of that, why did you stay in there till Winifred came over?”
“It’s smart to play it safe.”
“Jim, I think you and I should go for a run,” Winifred said.
“Emmitt and I were going to watch a movie.”
It was a lie. However, Jim had mastered the art of lying so there were no telltale signs, and Winifred knew it, too. But, she shook her head and walked out the door without him. With a sigh, I sat on the couch.
Jim plopped down next to me. “You going to forgive me tonight or tomorrow?”
“Definitely not tonight.”
I heard a few laughs and giggles from upstairs, then everything went relatively quiet. The sounds of footsteps on the stairs not long after brought me to my door.
“This is so pathetic to watch,” Jim said quietly.
“Then, don’t watch.” I went back to peering into the hall. Sure enough, Michelle was coming down.
“Do you know where Nana is?” she asked, pointing at Winifred’s open door.
“She stepped out for a walk,” I said, easing the door behind me closed. Jim chuckled. “Did you need something?”
“I wanted to ask if I could borrow a book.”
“Come on,” I said, moving toward Winifred’s apartment. “She would insist you take your pick.” I went to the large bookcase. “She used to be a teacher, you know. She loves curious minds and reading.”
“Thanks,” she said, taking two books from one of the shelves. Romances. That was a good sign, right?
She gave me another one of her killer shy smiles then jogged back up the stairs.
Jim was gone from the living room when I opened the door. I fell onto the couch and tried to sleep. It took forever.
* * * *
The next day, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to tell Michelle the truth. There was even a perfect opportunity when the boys discovered Winifred’s paw print by the shed. But instead of telling Michelle the print was made by us, I told her the dog was friendly and the kids didn’t need to worry.
The rest of the afternoon I cleaned up the garage and kicked myself for the lost opportunity.
Thursday morning Winifred woke me early with a knock on the door.
“You need a distraction,” she said. “Your pacing is keeping me up at night.”
“Sorry. I was going to start working on the apartment upstairs today.”
“That’s a good idea. For her, right?”
I nodded.
“That’ll help. Focus on making it perfect for her. Just another way to win her over.”
She was right. After a quick shower, I went upstairs and got to work.
Knowing Michelle was sleeping right across the hall caused conflicting emotions. It eased a tension I hadn’t known I’d carried. But it almost made me want to be even closer. Michelle was my drug, and I only wanted more.
I heard the three moving around and listened as they went outside to play. With the windows open, every word the boys said reached me. Michelle was quieter, and her silence drove me crazy.
As the morning progressed, though, Aden seemed to get on Liam’s nerves. Thinking of Jim, I understood how that could happen. However, their bickering seemed to get on Michelle’s nerves, too. She never yelled at them, but the tension in her voice told the truth.
Around lunch, she brought the kids inside. I looked at the half-painted living room and kitchen, and wondered if she would like help with the boys more than a new place. Jim had gutted everything and used his job money to reframe an open-concept living room and kitchen, along with a bathroom. He’d kept the existing bedrooms but had knocked out the old lathe and plaster, and had re-drywalled, mudded, and textured everything. Then he’d quit.
There was no mystery why. Jim loved the rough work, not the finishing work. I didn’t mind the painting, though.
Listening to Michelle turn the TV on, I figured she had gotten the boys corralled so I kept working.
When they went back outside, the boys continued their light bickering throughout the afternoon. I didn’t realize how much it had bothered Michelle until Jim came home.
As he killed the engine, I quickly put the lid on the current can of paint.
“Rough day?” he called.
Michelle remained quiet as the truck door creaked open.
“Me, too,” I heard Jim say. “Want to go out for a drink?”
Hell, no. I left the apartment and hurried down the stairs.
Jim stood with a grin before I cleared the last step.
“Let me know if you change your mind,” he said, walking toward me as I stepped onto the porch.
I gave Jim a look that promised payback as he passed me.
“Gotta try harder,” Jim said under his breath.
Ignoring him, I looked at Michelle. “Want to watch another movie with me?”
“Yes,” she said w
ithout hesitation.
I wanted to smile, until Jim turned on the shower inside and started to sing. Loudly.
“Let’s watch it upstairs,” I said.
* * * *
The next two hours were equally torture and bliss. She sat next to me and every time she moved, her scent wrapped around me tighter, until I stopped seeing the TV. I wanted to reach out and touch her, to wrap her in my arms and bury my nose in her hair.
I shifted on the couch and took several easy breaths to slow my racing pulse.
Before I was ready, the movie ended, and Michelle stood.
I fisted my hands to keep from reaching for her.
“I made grape drink at lunch,” she said, moving toward the kitchen. “Want some?”
I nodded, realizing I wasn’t the only one with issues.
“Were the boys that bad today?” I asked, moving to follow her.
She wrinkled her nose, and I grinned and wanted her more. She was too damn cute. And, she didn’t even know it.
“No. I’m just not used to being around them so much.”
That clue about her past stopped my amusement.
“How much time are you used to spending with them?”
Downstairs, I heard Jim ask Winifred if they could watch a movie. That meant Michelle and I would have time to talk.
She shrugged and turned to hand me a glass of purple, flavored water.
Did she even realize her eyes begged for understanding and help? She needed someone to watch out for her. I wanted that someone to be me. And I wanted her to want that, too.
Taking a leaf from Jim’s book, I reached up and smoothed back a stray piece of hair from her face. Her breath caught, and my gut clenched at the sound.
I watched for any sign of attraction in her gaze and saw her pupils dilate. Not the way I was sure mine were because I was so turned on by her, but in a vacant way, like they had on the fourth.
“Michelle?”
She didn’t answer.
Then, a second later, she was back. Her heart skipped a beat, and her breathing became erratic. I could smell a hint of worry, but mostly I smelled her interest. In me.
“What are you thinking about?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
Not true. People didn’t blank out like that for no reason. She had something on her mind. Probably whatever had caused her to mention that she didn’t usually spend so much time with her brothers.
I dropped my hand and studied her.
“We all have our secrets, Michelle.”
The disbelief that crossed her features as she looked back at me spurred me on.
“I want to show you something,” I said. “My secret.” I stepped back.
From downstairs, I heard Jim say, “Idiot! She’s not ready.”
He could stuff it. I wasn’t going to fully shift in front of her. I wasn’t stupid. Holding out my arm, I took a slow breath.
“But I don’t want it to freak you out. I just want you to see that you can share your secrets with me. I want you to be happy here.”
She continued to look doubtful, but focused on my arm. Carefully, I started the change. My bones began to ache, and my stomach churned. I pulled back and focused just on my arm. The tingle in my skin. The warmth of fur covering my exposed flesh. Slowly, brown fur grew.
She made a small noise, and her gaze flew to mine.
“You can make your hair grow?”
That she was still talking to me gave me hope.
“Sort of,” I said, lowering my arm. “There’s more.”
I smiled wide, showing her my canines.
Doubt changed to horror. She screamed and drew back her arm.
Shit. Not how I’d hoped she would react.
Instead of chucking the glass she still held at my head, she caught me off guard with a knee to the balls.
Time stopped. I lost the ability to breathe. Thought beyond the exploding pain radiating from my groin to my gut was impossible. As I dropped to the floor, the love of my life, the woman who’d just unmanned me, let go of the glass she still held. It hit me in the temple and shattered. I barely felt the glass that cut my cheek.
I groaned then coughed, absolutely certain my testicles were lodged somewhere in my esophagus.
She ran for the door. The sound of her steps motivated me. She was leaving. She couldn’t leave. Not like this.
Struggling to my feet, I pressed a gentle hand between my legs and listened to her make it to the second landing. I forced myself to shuffle forward.
Each second eased some of the pain and cleared my head. I had to get to her.
She reached the bottom by the time I made it to the door.
“Michelle, it’s okay,” I heard Jim say. “We can explain.”
I hobbled to the second landing and saw Michelle skirting around him. Jim looked up at me as she moved toward Winifred’s place.
Michelle touched the door, pushing it open to reveal Winifred.
“Michelle, let’s talk in the hallway,” Winifred said calmly.
Michelle’s pulse was jackrabbit fast by the time I reached the landing. Yes, I was still hurting, but her complete terror hurt me more.
Unable to help myself, I wrapped my hands around her arms and pulled her back against my chest. Winifred closed the door before her brothers saw anything.
“Please,” I said softly, unable to hide my desperation. “Let me explain.”
I leaned in and buried my face in her hair like I’d wanted to do just a few minutes ago. She froze as I inhaled.
Her scent changed, and I followed it to the sweet spot just below her ear. She wanted me as much as she wanted to run from me. She made a small sound that broke me. She was crying.
“Shh,” I said, running a hand down one arm. “You’re still safe. I promise.”
She drove a sharp elbow into my ribs. I grunted but didn’t let go.
“Please,” I whispered. Tilting my head closer, I brushed my lips against the lower part of her neck.
She stopped struggling and shivered in my arms. I trailed my nose around the shell of her ear, breathing her in.
“I’ll take every knee, elbow, or fist you throw at me because it means you’re still here, and I still have a chance to explain.”
Just when I thought I might be reaching her, she made a choked noise, crying harder as she shook in my arms.
“No,” I said desperately as I turned her to face me.
Her red eyes brimmed with tears as she reached up to brace her hands against my chest. The feel of her fingers against my shirt made me burn for more.
Taking her face between my hands, I touched my forehead against hers.
“Please,” I whispered. “Give me a chance. Give me time. I’m different, but nothing to fear.”
“I want my brothers,” she said brokenly.
“Of course. Nana only wanted to protect them. She didn’t want them to see you like this and worry.”
She glanced from me to Jim, obviously not believing what I said. I dropped my hands and straightened away from her, trying to show her she could trust me.
She backed away and knocked on Winifred’s door.
The door swung open. Both boys stood beside Winifred. She gently nudged them out into the hall. I wanted to give them a reassuring smile, but wasn’t sure everything would be all right. Michelle had fear in her eyes and wouldn’t look at me as she steered her brothers toward the stairs. She walked sideways, always watching us, until the second landing.
She could have left, I told myself. But she hadn’t. She’d stayed. That meant there was hope.
With a groan, I turned and went into Jim’s apartment. Both Winifred and Jim followed me.
“You should have kept quiet,” Jim said.
“My nuts feel like they are the size of water balloons,” I said, easing myself down onto the couch. “A pain in my ass is just overkill at this point.”
Winifred went to the freezer and brought back a bag of frozen peas. I felt no shame laying t
hem on my crotch.
“I’m sorry it didn’t go as you’d hoped,” Winifred said.
“Me, too.” I sighed. “I just thought being upfront would help her trust me more. I mean, I can protect her from whoever is after her, no problem. I thought showing her that would help.”
“With time, she’ll come around,” Winifred said with a pat on my head. “Want me to make you some cookies?” Winifred’s answer to troubled times was always cookies.
“Yeah,” Jim said. “No nuts, though.”
I threw the bag of peas at Jim.
Chapter 7
It took an hour before I was walking like usual. As soon as I could move without groaning, I went upstairs. My intent to work even harder on the new place evaporated at the soft sound of Michelle crying from within her apartment. So I sat on the landing and just listened. I’d given an already frightened woman more reason to fear, and I hated myself for it.
At some point, it started to rain. The normally soothing sound just seemed a depressing backdrop to her pain. It took a long time before she quieted. With a heavy heart, I went into the apartment and started looking at what needed to be done to tile the bathroom floor.
Sometime around dawn, I heard movement across the hall. The heavy sigh and a partially pained groan worried me. I jogged downstairs and grabbed some aspirin Winifred kept on hand for Mom. With the two pills in my hand, I sped upstairs and knocked on Michelle’s door.
The movement inside stilled, but the door didn’t open.
I knocked again. This time I heard feet slowly crossing the carpet. Then, I caught the rapid beat of her heart and the scent of her fear through the door. The ache in my chest grew with my helplessness.
When she opened the door, the sight of her puffy, red eyes had me stepping forward. I needed to comfort her…to bring back a measure of peace she’d only just started to find here.
“Michelle, I’m sorry.”
She stood still as I held her in my arms. She didn’t struggle or try to push me away. After a moment, her pulse jumped into high speed and her scent changed to one of shock. Why shock? Because of the hug?
“Give me three weeks,” I begged. “Stay. Give me a chance. Get to know me. If you can’t accept me after three weeks, I will help you go wherever you want to keep you safe from whoever you’re running from.”