Ryne shifted in his seat.
He looked up. “Why do you mention her?”
“Listen,” Ryne cleared his throat. “If you had another chance with her, what would you do?”
“It’s pointless to speculate. She’s gone.”
Inside his bear stirred restlessly, the conversation reminding the creature of topics best left alone. The past could not be changed, however the animal had a hard time believing that.
Ryne pressed his point. “But what if she wasn’t?”
“A miracle, you mean? You’re not the type to believe in such things.” He gave a dry laugh and took a drink. “But I’ll play your game. If I could change the past, I’d tell her my feelings and ask her to give us a chance.”
“That’s what I thought.” Ryne made a face and then took a deep breath. “Armand, I’ve been keeping something from you.”
One brow quirked, he lifted his glass to take a drink only to freeze when Ryne spoke.
“Lucy isn’t dead.”
“Pardon?” He blinked and his inner beast rose to its feet.
“You heard me.” Ryne scowled. “It was her idea. She wanted to start a new life.”
“Lucy is alive?” His fingers tightened into fists. The glass he was holding shattered, shards slicing his fingers, blood dripping from his hand to stain the floor. He took no notice, felt no pain, his brain trying to process what he had just heard.
“Yes.”
“But the funeral? Her grave?”
“We brought an empty casket back and buried it.” Ryne shrugged. “I said there’d been an accident, that Lucy was gone; everyone assumed that meant she was dead. I just never corrected them.”
Disbelief had held him frozen in place but now it transformed into rage, twisting and rolling until it exploded into an inferno that couldn’t be contained. His vision blurred as reason was forced to the mere edges of consciousness.
Ryne continued to speak. “I gave Lucy my word that I—”
With a snarl, he leapt across the bar, grabbed Ryne by the front of his shirt and lifted him from his seat.
“Armand…” Ryne lowered his voice in warning.
“You lied.” He growled the words and slammed his fist into Ryne’s face sending the other man reeling backwards into a table halfway across the room. The crack of splintering wood, coincided with the breaking of his self-restraint.
“Fuck, that hurt!” Ryne gave his head a shake as he regained his footing.
Armand stalked towards the Lycan, lips curled and hands clenched. The air began to shimmer as the bear inside him struggled to escape. A deep huff reverberated from the animal, a sure sign it would attack if let free. Most sane persons would have backed away. Ryne did not.
In a fight between a bear and a wolf, a bear had the size and power. A wolf’s advantage came from the pack, multiple adversaries distracting the bear, giving the others a chance to attack. Ryne had no pack to help him right now, but he was quick and agile, a strategic fighter and a bad-ass Alpha despite the outward appearance that being mated and a father had softened him.
Ryne tested his jaw then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a thin streak of blood showing. “I’ll give you that one. Try it again and I’m going to kick your ass.”
The warning didn’t even register.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He shoved a chair that was in his path. Ryne nimbly jumped out of the way as the furniture slid across the room before crashing into the wall. One of the paintings hanging above that spot slipped sideways on the nail. Thankfully, it didn’t fall. If it had, it would have pushed him over the edge.
Ryne narrowed his eyes, judging his opponent’s next move. “I didn’t like doing it. You’re my friend.”
“And friends do not deceive each other.” He hit a table with his fist and it collapsed into a pile of tinder.
“Armand…” Ryne growled one more warning, as pointless a gesture as the first.
The bear gave a roar, years of frustration coming to the fore. Armand swung his arm at Ryne. Ryne caught it and with a twist of his body used the momentum to propel him over his shoulder.
Armand hit the ground, rolled and charged at his opponent, his shoulder slamming into Ryne, driving them both into the bar.
Air whooshed from Ryne’s lungs, yet even as Armand stepped back Ryne used the bar to brace himself, raised both legs and rammed them into Armand’s gut.
Staggering backward, Armand grabbed a nearby chair and swung it at Ryne. The chair disintegrated as it struck the bar, Ryne barely managing to duck in time.
After that, it was a free for all with grunts, curses and the sound of breaking furniture filling the bar. The two volleyed for supremacy but were, surprisingly, equally matched as brute strength was met with speed and cunning.
“You’re right. Friends don’t deceive each other.” Ryne circled around, not increasing the distance between them but moving so the bar was once again at his back. “But Lucy was…is…also a friend.”
“Yes.” Armand spat blood from his mouth. “The two of you were indeed…friends.”
If Ryne noticed the extra emphasis on the last word, he ignored it. “And if a friend needs help, you give it. Could I do any less for her than I would for you?”
Armand paused, fists clenched. Since Ryne’s arrival in Stump River, the man had been his friend, never hesitating to help, even offering his pack members to watch the bar when he needed to get away. Bears had no pack to rely on, their clans usually scattered across the miles. The wolves were like family, had stood by him…
And yes, at one point, Ryne and Lucy had an…arrangement. It had been difficult to watch though no more so than any of the other relationships Lucy had over the years. And in the end, Ryne had shifted his interest to Melody.
He shook his head to clear his thinking, reason and rage vying for control. Ryne had lied but that was the only issue between them. His anger was disproportionate to the crime; his bear’s frustration misplaced. Inhaling through his nostrils, he slowly released his breath, trying to bring his logical, more civilized self to the fore again. “Who else knows that Lucy is alive?”
“No one.”
He slid a look at Ryne. “Not even your mate?”
“No.”
He considered the point then gave a dark laugh. “She will carve you to pieces with her words when she learns of your deception.”
“Yeah, I know.” Ryne gently touched his nose and winced. “I’d prefer being punched. Almost.”
“She’s a formidable woman.” He flexed his hand and examined his bleeding knuckles. “You’re lucky to have her.”
Ryne nodded and then waited.
With a heavy sigh, Armand pulled his hair back from his face, and once again considered the fact that he had no mate, perhaps never would. Blaming the fact on the Lycan, exacting some form of revenge had been momentarily satisfying yet changed nothing. Nor was it justified. His solitary state was his own doing.
His bear, recognizing the wisdom of its human’s thinking, subsided. It was not content but was willing to listen to the conversation.
He looked around noting the broken furniture; it would need to be repaired or removed before he opened the bar tomorrow. At least there were no windows broken. One of his paintings—an interpretation of the sun setting over a nearby lake—was crooked so he straightened it, pausing to study the composition and use of colour before taking a seat at one of the tables that was still intact. Stroking his beard, he stared sightlessly across the room trying to come to terms with what he’d learned.
Ryne appeared at his side with two glasses and a bottle of whisky. Pouring a shot into each glass, he took a seat as well.
“Thanks.” The liquor slid down his throat, the burn a distraction from the ache in his heart.
“I shouldn’t have kept the truth from you, Armand.” Ryne tossed back his own drink. “At the time, I didn’t realize you were that interested in Lucy.”
He shrugged. “I tried to keep it to
myself. I wasn’t sure. It was only when she said she was leaving on vacation that I had a feeling, a premonition.” He shook his head. “It was too late.”
“I’m sorry.” Ryne poured two more shots. One of his eyes was almost swollen shut but he managed the task without spilling a drop.
They both drank again then sat in silence studying the amber liquid.
Eventually he spoke. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Lucy called earlier this evening. It’s the first time I’ve heard from her since leaving her in Chicago.”
Years without contact and then she changed her mind? There had to be more to the story. “Why?”
“She was worried the man who almost killed her was back.”
He looked up sharply. “Explain.”
“When Melody first came here, she was trying to write an article on me, remember? But what she didn’t know was that it was really for some rich recluse who was trying to find Lycans.”
Armand searched his memory then nodded slowly. “I remember she wanted to write an article. I didn’t know the rest. Such a thing would have been very dangerous for you. For all of us.”
“Yep. Long story short, Melody changed her mind and refused to hand in the article. The lawyer for the rich guy came to the apartment to get it and ended up hitting Lucy on the head. She almost bled to death.”
“And where is this man now?” His hands tightened on the arms of his chair as his bear considered meting out retribution for the act.
“Dead.” There was definite satisfaction in Ryne’s voice when he spoke the word. “Lucy has no reason to fear him anymore. However…”
“There’s more?”
“She was mugged today and she needed help replacing her ID.”
“Mugged?” Armand stood up abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping back along the floor. “Is she all right?”
“She says she’s fine.”
He began to pace the room trying to ease the tension building inside. His bear was restless, wondering why they weren’t immediately rushing to Lucy’s side.
Ryne leaned his chair back and stretched his legs out negligently. “I’ve got Lycan Link working on new documents for her but there was something in her voice that caught my attention.”
“What?”
“I’m not sure.” Ryne tapped the table, then shook his head. “I think someone should check up on her.”
“I’ll go.”
“Just like that, you’re willing to leave? You only got back a few hours ago and haven’t even had time to wash the stink off you.” Ryne arched a brow.
“Don’t play games with me, my friend. It’s why you came here tonight, isn’t it?”
Ryne gave a bark of laughter. “And here I was thinking I was being subtle.”
He snorted. “I don’t think you’re even capable of that.”
“Yeah. Probably not.” Ryne downed the last of his drink, rose to his feet and stretched. “It’s getting late. I should head home before Melody wonders what happened to me.”
“She’ll question you about the bruises on your face.”
He shrugged. “I was at the bar. She knows how it can get when the temperature rises.” He strode to the door then stopped, his hand on the door knob. “A word of advice. If you want to get Lucy back, you need to lose the wild man look.”
“What do you mean?”
“Shave. Cut your hair. You look like a bear even before you shift.”
He scowled but as the door shut, he examined himself in the mirror that was behind the bar. After a week in the wilderness, he did look the worse for wear. Maybe his friend had a point.
Women are mysterious creatures. They put stock in things looking nice.
A glance around the room had him wondering if Lucy would ever be content to live at the bar should he succeed in bringing her back. His rooms upstairs suited him fine—he’d never been one to feel comfortable around fancy trappings—but a mate would want more.
She was content here before, his bear reminded him.
“Yes, but she didn’t live here. Plus, she’s had a taste of city life.”
We’ve been in cities before, the animal sneered. They are no place to live.
“Not everyone thinks like us.”
True.
Would Lucy return if he asked? Or was she happy in her new life? It was hard for him to imagine anyone being content in the unnatural atmosphere of metal and concrete. And clearly it wasn’t safe given Ryne’s report. The idea of Lucy being in trouble had him baring his teeth.
We will hunt down anyone who tries to hurt her, his bear declared.
“Yes, we will deal with them but in a city, it won’t be that easy.”
There will be too many people around to shift form. The animal grumbled, not pleased it would be restrained.
“At least we have other options.” He reached down and pulled out the knife he carried. The cool metal blade glinted in the dim light as he slowly turned it. It was long and razor sharp, just like his claws. As a bear, he had no need of it, and in human form his size intimidated most who got out of line in the bar. The knife was more for show, however, he could wield it as skillfully as his paint brushes. Axe and knife throwing competitions were a local past time at which he excelled.
A knothole in the panelling caught his attention. He weighed the knife in his hand, flicked his wrist and sent the weapon hissing through the air. A dull thud sounded as the blade sank deeply into the target. He gave a satisfied grunt. That was how he’d deal with an enemy of his Lucy.
Somewhere in Chicago…
The outer door opened and then closed with a slam, followed by the sound of angry footsteps crossing the foyer to the office.
Having just ended a decidedly unpleasant phone call, the individual waiting inside was ready with scathing accusations as soon as the owner of those footsteps entered.
“I was just informed you didn’t make the delivery. What the hell happened?”
“There was an unexpected problem.”
“Unexpected problems don’t happen. You plan. You anticipate. You—”
“I know what the fuck should happen, but it didn’t, okay?” A chair was shoved out of the way.
“They can’t proceed until—”
“Tell them we can fix it. One day. Two days, tops.”
“I’m not telling them, that’s your job. You messed up. You take the heat.”
“We’ll both take the heat. They won’t care who was at fault, all they care about is results! Now this is what I need you to do…”
Chapter 4
Lou. Louise Chandler.
She stood in front of the bathroom mirror just as she did each morning, repeating her name, getting into character. It was a ritual she’d started in the hospital while memorizing the new identity Ryne had created for her, and one she still performed. It set the tone for her day, reminding her of the person she now was, of the course she’d set for her new life.
That done, she began humming softly as she prepared for work. She’d slept well the past two nights, which was surprising given recent events. Perhaps it was the fact it had rained all day yesterday, clearing away some of the humidity and lowering the temperature. Or maybe it was because she’d finally reconnected with someone from her old life. The thought had crossed her mind more than once; she’d just never had the nerve to pick up the phone. The mugging had forced her hand, taking the decision from her.
Whatever the case, a feeling of calm had settled on her.
“Things happen for a reason,” she told her reflection.
Memories of Stump River often filled her thoughts, especially at night when she couldn’t sleep. Chicago was nice, there was always lots to do, but it was impersonal and she was merely one in a sea of thousands of faces. She could move to another little town but leaving Chicago was the final step in severing all ties with her old life. Staying meant the door was cracked open, giving fate an opportunity for Ryne to find her.
Not that she was in
love with Ryne. They’d had their moments, but in the end, he was more a friend. And now he was married with a baby and she was truly happy for him. She smiled wondering what the child looked like.
The door handle rattled, interrupting her thoughts, and a groggy sounding Roxi called out, “You in there, Lulu?”
“Yep, just a sec.” She adjusted her glasses then pulled her hair back in a ponytail, tugging a few strands loose to help hide her scar. Her finger trailed down its length before she compressed her lips and forced her hand away. The puckered skin didn’t matter. She had value beyond her appearance.
Gathering her things, she left the bathroom. Roxi was leaning against the wall, her eyes half-closed and her hair sticking out at odd angles.
“Morning.” Roxi mumbled the word.
“Looks like you had a good time last night.”
“Hmm.” Roxi pushed off from the wall and stumbled into the bathroom. She wasn’t a morning person even on the best of days.
Lou finished dressing then made herself a piece of toast.
Roxi eventually wandered into the kitchen and poured a glass of juice then slumped down at the breakfast bar. “Why do I do things like this?”
“Like what?”
“Eat too much, drink too much, dance all night and stay out too late.”
“Because you’re young? It’s a rite of passage, I think.”
“Yeah, that must be it.”
Roxi drank her juice and Lou munched her toast thinking how she used to spend her nights at the Broken Antler.
It had been fun…and then it hadn’t. The voice in her head sighed.
Was she getting old? Even though Roxi was younger, she’d never thought that much about their age gap. Mostly, it was different experiences, she supposed. Roxi had street smarts from living in a big city whereas she knew about relationships.
Or at least how not to have one.
Growing up, she’d moved a lot, her mother drifting from one town to another, always chasing a better life that never materialized. Stump River was the place they’d remained the longest, not because her mother had finally found her happily ever after but because she’d become ill, years of hard living leading to an early grave.
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