by J. L. Wilder
She went to the front desk and turned in her key, thankful that she had paid for her room when she’d checked in last night. It would have been stressful to deplete her finances even more, and today was going to be stressful enough.
On her way out, she passed a conference room with a sign posted on the door that said Convention Breakfast. She could hear the clattering sounds of dishes being laid out, though she couldn’t yet smell the food—it was probably too early for it to have arrived.
But that must be the convention he was talking about. Frowning, she scanned the sign, looking for some indication of what it was all about. Networking wasn’t a job; it was something you did in your job, wasn’t it?
Of course, what would I know about it? I’m just a waitress. Marty had always stressed to her that she shouldn’t hope for anything more in life, that she wasn’t smart or educated enough to get a professional job.
Marty, she realized, had always wanted her kept low.
He had complained about the fact that she’d worked as a waitress. He had blamed her when she had come home after a long shift during which customers had leered at her or tried to wrap their arms around her waist. He would get angry if he visited the restaurant and saw other men trying to touch her.
And yet, he never wanted her to believe that she could aspire to anything else.
There was nothing I could have done to make him happy.
As soon as she thought the words, she felt the truth of them. She had spent twenty years of her life trying to make that man happy, but she had never stood a chance. He had wanted to be dissatisfied with her. He had wanted her to fail so that he could feel more successful.
She was only a few miles from home, and she decided to walk it. After stopping in the department store across the street from the hotel and buying a new dress, she started down the road that would take her home.
It had been twenty years, but she still knew her way around Chicago as if it had only been a minute. As if she had never been away.
She remembered running around this neighborhood as a child. Her whole life had been before her then, and she had been her parents’ pride and joy. Back then, she had people who believed in her, people who thought that she was capable of big and important things. No one would ever have tried to make her feel small in those days.
And then she met Marty, and everything changed.
Through the clear lens of hindsight, she could see just how foolish she had been about him. She had let him sweep her off her feet because he was a stranger—not from Chicago, not one of the boys she had grown up with—and because he was dangerous, and danger was exciting back then. She had felt strangely proud of the fact that he was a wolf—like there must be something special about her, and special about their love, that allowed them to overcome the usual rivalry between their species.
I should have known better. There was nothing special about any of it. I was barely twenty years old, completely naive, and he could see that. I was an easy mark for him. I don’t think it was ever anything more than that.
Chapter Six
BRADY
She was gone when Brady awoke.
At first, he thought she must have gone for more ice or something since she had never gotten her drink of water last night. Surely she wouldn’t have just left without saying goodbye? Not after the night they’d had?
But the time dragged on, and eventually, half an hour had passed; Brady had to accept that she wasn’t coming back.
What could have prompted her to leave in the middle of the night? It was strange. Had she regretted the fact that they’d slept together?
He hoped not. She had seemed to be having a good time while it was going on. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such hot sex.
And with a pure human woman! He would never hear the end of it if anyone found out. Maybe it was for the best that she had gone before he had to worry about sneaking her past Steve and the rest of the den. He didn’t like to think about what they might have to say if they saw her.
Still, it was a hit that his ego didn’t need after the way all of yesterday’s meetings had gone. Brady would have vastly preferred the set of difficulties that would have come along with his one-night stand being a little too clingy. At least then, he would have known she’d enjoyed herself as much as he had.
He sighed, rolled out of bed, and got into the shower. He was sad to be washing her scent that smelt so familiar and sexy off his body. His cock hardened again just thinking about her as he bathed in the hot steam.
He glanced at the clock on the bedside table as he dressed. It was just after nine. He had slept in. He’d meant to attend the conference breakfast, to try again to make a good impression, but it looked as though he had missed his chance. The breakfast ended at nine, and the South Side Bears would be packing up and heading home shortly.
On paper, this whole conference had been a waste of Brady’s time. But when he thought of the woman he’d met last night, he couldn’t help but feel glad that he’d come.
I wonder if there’s any chance of seeing her again. She did say that her parents lived in Chicago.
But he didn’t have her name. Not even her first name.
No, he might as well give up hope of ever finding her. Better to just be happy that they’d had the night together. Even though it was clearly all they were going to get, Brady could easily say that it was one of the best of his life. There was no way he was going to forget it.
Someone knocked at the door.
Brady’s head jerked up. Could that be her? Maybe she hadn’t left for good after all. He was surprised by how hopeful he felt. He hurried to the door and pulled it open.
But it wasn’t her. It was Steve, flanked by Brick and Edgar.
Before Brady could ask them what they wanted, Steve had shouldered his way into the room. “What the hell have you been doing up here?” he demanded.
Brady looked around the room, puzzled. The woman was gone; she had taken all her things with her. The room smelled like nothing but hotel-brand shampoo and soap. “What do you mean?” he asked, allowing irritation to bleed through into his voice. After the way he had been treated for the past twenty-four hours, irritation with Steve was not a difficult thing to manifest.
“You’ve been up here since the end of the meetings yesterday,” Steve said. “You didn’t join us for drinks yesterday evening, and you were asked to.”
Brady could hardly restrain himself from rolling his eyes. “I’m sure that was very disappointing for you, Steve,” he said. No doubt Steve had had high hopes for the possibility of seeing Brady fall off the wagon at the bar last night. “You know how I hate to let you down.”
Edgar snorted but said nothing.
“What made you come up here so early last night?” Steve asked.
“I was tired,” Brady said. “Is it a crime to be tired now?”
“Not a crime,” Steve said. “It’s a bit pathetic. But I guess you’re getting old.”
“I’m only a year older than you are, Steve.”
“Yeah, but your body’s all run down from all that drinking you did,” Steve said. “Which reminds me—were you drinking up here last night?”
“No,” Brady said, his hands balling into fists at the accusation. “Of course not.”
“You know I have to check,” Steve said. “It’s my responsibility. As your alpha.” He said the word slowly, and Brady could tell that he was relishing it. “If I suspect something’s wrong with you, if I notice you disappearing when you’re supposed to be with the group, it’s my job to make sure you haven’t slipped.”
“Well, thank you so much,” Brady said. “I haven’t. So you don’t need to worry about it.”
“I saw him getting ice,” Brick said.
Brady could tell by the lack of surprise on Steve’s face, by the sinister smile that spread there, that Steve wasn’t hearing this story for the first time. “But I’m sure he just needed the ice for a soda or something,” he said. “I’m
sure he bought something from the vending machine. Right?”
“Nope,” Brick said.
“For fuck’s sake,” Brady said. “Look.” He went to the ice bucket and jerked it open. The plastic bag inside now contained nothing but water. “I got the ice so I could have ice water, but then I decided against it. There’s not even anything up here for me to have had to drink if I’d wanted to. Which I didn’t.”
Steve turned to Edgar. “Check the trash cans for bottles,” he said. “And check his bag, too.”
“What the hell?” Brady demanded. “You can’t do that.”
“I’m the alpha of this den,” Steve said. “I can do what I want. When you didn’t come down to breakfast this morning, you signaled to us that something was wrong. What kind of alpha would I be if I didn’t make sure you were all right?”
“As if you’ve ever cared whether I’m all right.” Brady had had enough of the pretense. “You don’t give a damn about that. You just want to see me make an ass of myself so you can use it as evidence that I shouldn’t be alpha.”
Steve let out a laugh. “You can’t honestly believe that you still stand a chance at being named alpha?” he asked. “Brady, please. After the way this conference has gone...” He shook his head. “I let you come along because I thought it would wake you up to how unsuited you are to the position. I thought by the time we left, you would realize that you were never meant to be our alpha, regardless of your birth status. You must have noticed how badly you performed in every meeting.”
“Only because you wouldn’t allow me to talk,” Brady snapped. “There was nothing wrong with my ideas, and you know it. You kept me quiet out of fear. Every time I tried to put something forward, you shut me down because you know as well as I do that if anyone hears my ideas, they’ll realize what a good leader I would be.”
“And what about the fact that you ditched the happy hour last night and the breakfast this morning?” Steve asked. “A real leader doesn’t isolate himself, Brady. A real leader understands that leadership comes with responsibilities.”
“But I’m not the pack’s leader right now,” Brady said. “So those responsibilities fall on your shoulders. Not mine.”
Steve shook his head pityingly. “I know you want to prove yourself,” he said. “But honestly, sometimes I have to wonder whether you’re thinking at all. If you want to be a leader, responsibility doesn’t begin after you’ve been appointed. You have to prove that you’re worthy of the role.”
Leadership lectures from Steve were more than Brady could stand. “You don’t know anything about leadership,” he said, hearing the angry snarl in his own voice. “You don’t know anything about earning the respect of the people around you. Don’t come to me and talk about leadership when you know as well as I do that the rest of our den only obeys you out of fear. You’re manipulative and controlling, but you haven’t earned anybody’s trust.”
“You talk to me about respect and trust,” Steve said. “But you’re the one, Brady O’Neal, who lost the respect and trust of the whole den. You’re the one who was handpicked to be alpha, who could have had everything he wanted. And you’re the one who threw it away for a bottle of booze.”
Brady flinched. He had been so determined not to let Steve’s taunts get to him, but he had to admit that that one had done the job. He didn’t like to think back on his drinking days. It was something he was deeply ashamed of.
But Steve wasn’t done. “You’re the one who crashed your bike driving drunk,” he said, gesturing to the scar on Brady’s cheek. “You’re the one who threw the whole den into turmoil when they realized the leader they thought they had couldn’t be counted upon. You’re lucky I was there to pick up the pieces. You should be thanking me on bended knee. And the fact that you can speak so disrespectfully to me, in spite of all of that, is all the proof I need that this den is lucky not to have you as its leader. You would make a terrible alpha.”
He turned to Edgar, not giving Brady a chance to respond. “Are you finished searching his things?” he asked.
Edgar nodded. “He doesn’t have anything. It doesn’t seem like he’s been drinking.”
“Or he’s just good at hiding it,” Brick suggested.
Steve didn’t appear to care either way. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s head back down and see if we can get any more bacon before they close up breakfast.”
The three men turned and left Brady’s room.
Brady tried to cling to the feeling of contentment that last night had fostered in him. After all, he had a secret his alpha and the others didn’t know about and couldn’t contaminate with their cruelty. He’d spent an amazing night with a wonderful woman, and the fact that Steve would have disapproved of her felt like the icing on the cake at the moment.
But he wasn’t comforted for long.
She was gone. She had been a wonderful respite from the stress of his life, it was true. But the night the two of them had spent together was over, and Brady had to return to the stress of being the alpha has-been, the man who had failed in living up to the role his pack had set for him.
And the conference hadn’t been the success he had hoped it would be. Not remotely. Steve was right about that. He had made a mess of things in every meeting, he hadn’t fought for the floor when he should have, and now another opportunity to reclaim the position that should have been his had passed him by.
It was beginning to seem as if it would never happen. Maybe it was time to give up and admit to himself that he just wasn’t going to be the alpha of the South Side Bears.
With a sigh, he began to repack the things Edgar had removed from his bag when he’d searched it. He had no desire to ride home with the others. He was only a few miles away—he would just walk it.
Chapter Seven
EVELYN
The prodigal daughter returns.
Evelyn stood on the street, staring up at the brownstone her parents lived in, the place that had been their home all her life.
She hadn’t seen this place in a long time. She hadn’t thought she would ever be back. In fact, her father had specifically told her she wasn’t welcome to come back as long as she was married to a wolf.
Would things be different now? Would she be welcomed? Or would she be turned away?
The fight that had taken place on the day she’d told her parents she was leaving had been one of the most extreme events of Evelyn’s life. Her mother had sat crying in the corner, wringing her hands and looking as if she wanted to run from the room, as her father had yelled at Evelyn and berated her.
He’s a wolf. You can’t trust their kind. They’re our natural enemies.
You don’t even know him, Dad. He’s not like that. He’s not like you think.
I don’t want to know him. I won’t have any daughter of mine involved with a wolf!
You can’t stop me.
I don’t want to see you again. If you marry that man, I never want you to show your face here again.
Those were the words that had hit Evelyn the hardest. It had been as if her father had actually reached out and slapped her, something he had never done.
Her mother had let out a stifled cry.
And Evelyn, feeling very bold and righteous, had turned her back on her parents and walked out the door to where Marty was waiting in his car. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry. She hadn’t allowed herself to feel a thing.
They’d driven away, and Evelyn hadn’t been back since.
God, I was so young. So stupid.
She summoned her courage, preparing herself for the moment she would walk up the stairs to the house and knock on the door.
But the moment never came. Instead, the door burst open, and Evelyn’s mother came running out.
Seeing her mother running toward her, Evelyn’s breath caught in her throat. For the first time, she was acutely aware of the twenty years Marty had taken from her, years she would never get back.
Her mother had been very young when Evelyn was born.
She had been in her early forties when Evelyn had left with Marty—the same age, Evelyn realized suddenly, that she herself was now. It was common for shifter mothers to be young, of course. Their highest duty to the den was to procreate.
But Evelyn could see the age on her mother’s body now. Her face was wrinkled, and her hair had lost its color. She was a distortion of the woman Evelyn had known.
For the first time since leaving Marty, Evelyn couldn’t hold back her tears.
Her mother reached her side and hesitated, her arms twitching as if she wanted to fling them around Evelyn but didn’t quite dare. “Evelyn?” she said. “Is it really you?”
“I’ve left Marty, Mom,” Evelyn said. “You and Dad were right about him all along. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Evelyn—” Now, her mother did embrace her. “I’m just so glad you’re home.”
“Do you think Dad will be glad?” He was the one Evelyn was really worried about. He was the one who had ordered her not to come back.
Her mother wrapped an arm around Evelyn’s waist. “Come inside,” she said. “We’ll all talk as a family.”
Evelyn nodded and allowed her mother to lead her up the stairs and into the house. It felt good to be taken care of, to let someone else take the lead for a while. As her mother ushered her into the familiar kitchen, sat her down at the table, and started boiling water for a cup of tea, Evelyn felt herself slipping back in time, back to when she had been young enough to need her mother to take care of her every time something had gone wrong in her life.
She had believed, when she’d gotten married to Marty, that he would become the new caretaker in her life. That she would be able to depend on him for emotional support, the way she had once depended on her parents.
Nothing could have been further from the truth.
“I’ll go and get your father,” her mother said once the water was on the stove. She hesitated beside Evelyn and rested her hands on her shoulders for a moment, then hurried away.