He fucking missed Tarun. So much so, it surprised the hell out him, but he was past the point of even trying to deny it. Every moment he was babysitting Georgie was just another moment he was away from the woman he most wanted to be spending time with.
The first thing he did when he reached the bar was stop in the archway and search for her. Disappointment washed over him as he realized she wasn’t in the room, but it was probably for the best. She’d been pissed the fuck off at him the last time he saw her, and he knew he’d need a clear head for the confrontation bound to happen when he saw her next.
The confrontation that needed to happen.
Grabbing one of the last empty seats at the bar, he nodded at Blake as he came over. “Hey man. Can you get me a plate of whatever Liam has already done, or close to finished? I’m starving.”
Nodding, Blake left to talk to Liam, coming back quickly. “He’s dishing up chicken strips and fries. Want your usual to drink?”
Nodding, he scrubbed his hands over his face, watching Blake pour him a Coke. The Enforcer leader was shooting him speculative glances the whole time, and it finally grated on his nerves enough that he snapped. “What the fuck is it?”
“You look pretty tired.”
“Georgie kept me up all night. Wouldn’t let me go back to my room until around noon today.” He caught the suspicious look Blake sent him and he scowled. “Fuck, not like that. I didn’t go near her bed. It was all fetch me this, can you get me that. Wore me the hell out.”
Blake left briefly, returning with his plate. “That’s good to hear.”
“Why?” he asked crossly, still irritable from lack of sleep. “Why would it matter to you if I did spend the night in her bed? You’ve never cared who we messed around with before.”
Blake propped his hip against the counter, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “A few reasons. One, you’ve never returned her feelings, and I’m pretty sure that hasn’t changed. I don’t want to see you lead her on. That’s never been your style, and you rarely take up offers from the women who come in here, throwing themselves at us. I wouldn’t want you to start now. Two, I’m pretty sure you’ve got some feelings of your own for a certain pretty War Cat, and I’d hate to see you sabotage that before it got started.
“And three, I’m also fairly sure that certain pretty War Cat is developing some feelings for you in return. And she’s pretty fucking pissed that Georgie’s staying here to begin with. As it stands, you could talk to her, allay her fears, make her understand that nothing she thinks is happening is really going on. But if you were being a colossal fuck up and actually screwed around with Georgie, you couldn’t fix it, and it would hurt Tarun. And that would piss me the fuck off, and I’d have to kick your ass. She doesn’t deserve that. I won’t stand for you hurting anyone under my roof, but especially not her.”
Luke shook his head, watching his hand as he drew designs in his barbeque sauce with a chicken strip. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that.” Pausing for a moment, he finally glanced up, meeting Blake’s eyes. “She’s really pissed, huh?”
Lips quirking, Blake nodded. “She is. But I don’t think it’s anything you can’t fix by actually talking to her. So eat up and go find her. Explain shit and make it right.”
“I can do that. Hopefully.” Taking a bite of his food, he glanced up at Blake as he chewed. “Just so you know, I’m officially off duty when it comes to Georgie. Find someone else to play babysitter. I’m out.”
“Will do. Now swallow your food before you speak. That’s fucking disgusting.”
Luke smirked around another bite. He actually hadn’t meant to that time, but talking with his mouth full was something he liked to do when Blake was around, just to piss him off. Their leader didn’t let much get to him, but that was a guaranteed way to get his back up, so Luke did it often when he was around.
Worked like a charm every time.
Once he’d finished his food, he felt much better, and actually awake. Taking a sip of his Coke, he turned around, scanning the bar for his target. He still didn’t see her, but he wasn’t going to give up until he found her.
It was probably best if he left her alone. If he let her think whatever she wanted to about the situation. Despite his dismal track record with his gift, he was always control personified with the rest of his life. Maybe because he had such a hard time with his gift, he didn’t know. He’d never felt the need to analyze the whys of how he was.
But he never did anything, never felt anything, that he didn’t give himself the go ahead for.
Except for the situation with Tarun. The need he felt to be near her, to make sure she knew the truth and wasn’t hurt by any misunderstandings, was overriding his control. Despite knowing it was probably best that she stayed away from him, despite knowing he might be able to convince her to leave if she did, he couldn’t let things stand as they were.
He puzzled over it as he searched the room one last time for her. He was sure she wasn’t in there—crazy as it was, he felt like he’d know if she were in the same room with him.
He wasn’t sure why he couldn’t leave things like they were. He should be able to. He was nothing if not dedicated to making sure women were safe and protected, and she’d be both of those if she went home.
Yet, for some reason, he was physically incapable of truly wanting her to leave, like was best for her.
The only reason he could think of was—
Freezing halfway off the stool, he shook his head. No. Surely not.
Yet everything in him was telling him his thought, as ludicrous as it was, was right on track.
Sitting back down with a thump, he stared out into the bar, not really seeing what was in front of him. Every fiber of his being was focused on the bombshell dangling tantalizingly in front of him.
Was Tarun his mate?
As crazy and farfetched as it was, it made sense. It explained why he felt the need to keep her safe and protected even more keenly than he normally did with women. Why the thought of her unhappy gutted him. Why he needed to be near her—more than needed, it was a compulsion he couldn’t shake or talk himself out of.
Why just the simple touch of her hand against his made his blood sizzle.
A shifter’s mate was everything to them. Not all shifters found theirs, making them a rarity, and all the more treasured. When they met their mate, their world, their priorities, their very being tilted on its axis. Suddenly, nothing mattered more than that person.
Their mate’s wants and needs mattered far more than their own. Their safety, their happiness, were all that was important. And they’d do anything to achieve that. Lie, cheat, steal, kill—lay down their life. Absolutely anything.
If she was his mate, it all made sense.
Except for one thing. They didn’t choose their mate. Their animal did. And his lion hadn’t said a word about Tarun being his.
So that must mean she wasn’t.
He didn’t understand the deflation he felt. Slumping down on the stool, he rubbed his forehead, feeling a frown trying to form under his fingers. He shouldn’t be so disappointed that she likely wasn’t his mate. It would complicate things. He’d never be able to convince her to leave, because he wouldn’t truly want her to. He’d want to spend every single moment with her, waking and sleeping.
But he couldn’t deny the fact that he was deeply disappointed. If only his lion said the words. Everything would make sense, and he wouldn’t let anything stop him from telling her she had the Georgie situation wrong, and convincing her that she needed him as much as he needed her.
I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to figure it out on your own.
Luke’s head snapped up at his cat’s words and he straightened on his stool. What are you trying to say?
I’d think it was obvious. You’re right. Tarun’s our mate.
A timeless moment spun out, where it seemed like no one moved, no one spoke—like Luke had no substance, no thoughts, nothing. Like he just was.
Then everything snapped back into focus and he frowned. How long have you known? And why the fuck didn’t you tell me?
I knew right after she showed up at the clubhouse, and I tried to tell you at first. But you kept shutting me down and acting like an idiot. You weren’t going to respond well to it. So I decided to let you figure it out on your own.
You still should have fucking told me.
How would you have reacted before now? Be honest.
Luke frowned, not replying. There was nothing he could say. His lion was right, and they both knew it. Up until then, until the moment he thought she was his mate and then thought she wasn’t—well, he would have tried to fight it. Tried to resist.
It would have been a futile effort. Very few shifters could walk away from their mate. But he still would have tried. Would have called on the boundless supply of control he possessed in his personal life, and attempted to deny what she was to him.
And that would have been a huge mistake. Mostly because he knew he wouldn’t have succeeded, and doing that would have driven an even bigger wedge between himself and Tarun. One he might not have been able to overcome.
He thought it would take a while to accustom himself to the fact that she was his mate. That he’d need time to come to grips with it, to accept it. He’d always wanted to find his mate one day. He’d be a fool not to.
But he thought his life would be on track. That he’d have all his issues resolved, and be in the best possible position to take on a mate and everything that meant.
That his gift would be completely controlled.
None of that was true. He had no control over his life. There was a madman out to take him, and the other Enforcers, out. And because of that, none of his issues were resolved, and that didn’t exactly leave him in the optimum position to take on a mate.
Yet none of that mattered.
Maybe it was because he’d had a taste of thinking she was his mate only to be disappointed when he thought she wasn’t. It’d been a brief moment in time, but for that short span, he grieved her. He felt like she’d been his and he lost her—irrevocably and forever.
Or maybe it was just because she was Tarun. The woman he’d been attracted to, drawn to on a level he hadn’t imagined possible, since the moment she showed up.
Whatever the reason was, he was ready for her. Ready to have her as a mate. Forever and always.
They still faced hurdles. She believed the worst in him right then. Believed that he kissed her like his life depended on it, then went running to another woman not even an hour later. How she hadn’t felt his heart and soul in the kiss enough to know he’d never do that, he didn’t know. But it was a moot point.
He didn’t think she knew they were mates, either. She was as attracted and drawn to him as he was to her, he knew that. She knew it, too. And she was pissed the fuck off at what she perceived as his betrayal. But she might not understand why she was so angry and hurt. She probably thought it was the normal reaction a woman would have for a man she was growing close to.
He didn’t know how to tell her, or even if he should. Maybe she should figure it out on her own. Maybe he should wait until her tiger let her in on it. He didn’t know what the right course of action was.
But he did know he wasn’t going to sit on his ass wondering about it anymore. He might not know what he was going to do in the future, but he knew what he was going to do right then.
He was going to tear the clubhouse apart looking for her. And if for some reason she’d left, he’d follow her. To the ends of the Earth, he’d follow her. Then he was going to talk to her. Make her listen. If he could just get her to listen, she’d hear the truth in his voice when he told her what really went down the night before and that morning.
And then he was going to win her over. He was going to love her so well, so hard—mentally and, hopefully, physically—that when her animal told her what he was to her, what they were to each other, she couldn’t fight it. He was going to make sure when that time came, she accepted the truth, and him, immediately.
He stood and scanned the room one more time, unable to find her. No matter. Determination settled over him as he walked toward the hallway that led to the sleeping quarters. No matter what, he was going to find her. And come hell or high water, he was going to make her listen.
Tarun reached the bottom of the steps, turning her head to laugh at something Damara said. She hadn’t known the other woman long, but she already felt a kinship with her that she hadn’t felt with many others before.
She couldn’t lie—at first, the fact that Damara was a griffin intimidated her a bit. She’d never met one, but if her new friend was anything like the legends, she was a whole other level of fierce.
She quickly got over the intimidation, though. Damara was outgoing, friendly, and hilarious, with an underlying sweetness that was hard to miss. It was easy to forget that not only was she a griffin, but she was an Enforcer. A double layer of fierce. No, triple. She was a griffin, a fighter, in both human and animal form, and she possessed a powerful gift.
Tarun didn’t know what it was, but it was sure to be a good one. According to Luke, it had to be, for her to be accepted as an Enforcer.
Her mood dimmed a bit at his name, and she quickly pushed thoughts of him away. She couldn’t let herself think of him, no matter how innocently. He clearly wasn’t good for her.
The point was, Damara was on a whole other level of badass. But when Tarun was hanging out with her, she felt like a friend. Just a normal, everyday variety of shifter.
Still laughing, she turned to face forward and immediately smacked into a brick wall. A brick wall with arms that reached up to catch her, and held her against a hard chest. A brick wall that smelled remarkably like Luke.
Shit. Closing her eyes, she resisted the urge to rest her forehead against his chest. That was too much contact. Hell, there was already too much contact. Forcing her spine to straighten, she yanked herself out of his arms, opening her eyes and looking anywhere but at him.
“Excuse me. Damara, you coming?”
She began to walk past him, but he put a hand on her arm. His touch was gentle—he wasn’t holding her or forcing her to stop in any way. But she still halted, her feet making the decision for her.
“Tarun. Can we talk? Please. Just me and you. I need to explain.”
Gathering her faltering resolve around her like a bullet proof cloak, she shored it up as she pulled her arm from his grasp. “No. There’s nothing we have to say to each other. Everything’s fine. I’ll stay out of your way. Just try to stay out of mine.”
“Tarun—”
Shaking her head, she ignored the pleading, borderline anguished quality in his voice and kept walking. How was she going to handle it? Seeing him multiple times a day, every day. Knowing he’d played with her heart while wanting another.
It seemed an impossible task, but she had to do it. He could die if she didn’t. The other Enforcers could get hurt. So she had to figure out how to deal with it, and fast. Before she lost a part of her heart before she went home.
No, not a part of her heart. If she was being honest with herself, she’d already lost that.
Next would be a piece of her soul. And she wouldn’t willingly give that to someone who didn’t want it—who didn’t deserve it.
“All right, stop,” Damara barked out. “Both of you.”
Tarun’s feet came to a stop automatically and she reluctantly turned toward her, making sure to keep her eyes away from Luke. Looking at him was more than she could handle.
Damara looked between them, a frown forming between her troubled, dark brown eyes. “I have no idea what’s going on. But Luke is one of my favorite people, and Tarun, you’re quickly becoming one. So you two are going to work whatever this is out. Go on now. I’m waiting.”
Tarun pursed her lips, looking up at the ceiling, not yet willing to give an inch. She could feel Luke’s gaze on her—it was like a physical caress, raising g
oosebumps on her skin. He kept his silence, but she wasn’t sure why. He wanted to talk, yet when Damara gave him the chance, he stayed quiet.
“Okay. I get it,” Damara said, coming forward a few steps. “You don’t want to talk with an audience. But you are going to talk.” She jabbed a finger toward Luke, her frown in full effect. “You. Chances are, whatever this clusterfuck is, it’s your fault. Don’t give me that look. It’s a man thing. Y’all always screw shit up. Whatever this is, you better fix it. I like Tarun. She’s my friend, and I will not have her hurt. Is that understood? Good.
“And you,” she continued, turning her finger toward Tarun. “You seem like a sweet, levelheaded woman. So I’m trusting that you’ll realize men are the biggest idiots on Earth. There’s something flawed with their thinking. Shut up, Luke. I’m speaking the truth, and I’m trying to help you, so keep your natural born idiocy in check. Now, Tarun, there’s no doubt in my mind that whatever’s wrong, it’s his fault. But I’m telling you now, Luke is one of the good ones. He truly is, and whatever it is he’s done, there’s a good explanation. It might not make sense to you, but trust that to him, it does. He’s good. All I’m asking is that you give a good man a chance.”
Tarun’s gazed dropped from the ceiling and she chewed on her bottom lip as she stared at her new friend, considering her words. Maybe—just maybe—there was some truth to them. Damara met her gaze steadily and she must have seen her resolve wavering, because her eyes softened, and she took a few steps forward, taking Tarun’s hands in her own.
“I know we just met today, but it feels like we’ve known each other forever, right?” Damara asked softly, her gaze intent. “I hope that you trust me enough to tell you the truth. But even if you don’t, I know you heard the honest notes in my voice when I spoke. Please. Give Luke a chance to fix whatever it is he’s broken.”
Squeezing her hands, Damara gave her an encouraging smile before walking away, her ever present Dmitri shadow following her. Before long, Tarun was alone in the hallway with Luke, the silence stretching out, unending.
Control (Blood & Bone Enforcers MC Book 1) Page 7