Chapter 15
Zed
C ari sighs happily, resting her cheek against my chest. “I don’t want you lying in a puddle, either. Cleanup towels are in the nightstand drawer, if you can reach them.”
I fumble to my left and pull open the first drawer that I find, grabbing the fabric on top. Cari jolts on top of me, every muscle tense.
“Not that one! Sorry!” She breaks our handhold and crawls off me with superhuman speed to snatch whatever-it-is out of my hand. She throws it into the drawer and slams it shut. When she turns to face me again, her face is pale and her chest is heaving. “Sorry,” she repeats, blinking back welling tears. “I meant the top drawer.”
“I’m sorry, too,” I say, completely confused.
She shakes her head as she pulls cleanup cloths from the correct drawer and hands one to me. “You didn’t do anything. It’s not your fault.”
Ignoring the mess for now, I prop on my elbow to cup her cheek. “What’s wrong, then? Tell me, sunflower, so I can fix it.”
“This isn’t something you can fix. I mean it’s fixed, I think. Remember I told you I had a stalker? He hasn’t contacted me since I moved here. That drawer is just…stuff he’s sent. I don’t even know why I keep it.”
She’s twisting her hands and looking miserable, eyes everywhere but me. Not what I wanted to see right after I made her come a half-dozen times.
“I take that back. I do know why. I look at it sometimes to remind myself—” she breaks off, her expression so broken that I can't resist pulling her back into my arms so we’re lying on our sides facing each other. She curls toward me like a sad little shrimp.
I bury my fingers in her hair, massaging lightly, and kiss the top of her head. “Remind yourself what?” I prompt.
“That I’m not safe,” she whispers into the dark hollow between us. “That he might still be watching.”
Shit. Fuck. Damn.
She’s not okay. I can’t tell her about how I’ve been stalking her. Not until she’s sure about my place in her life. I have to show her that I respect her. That I’d never cross her boundaries like that. That if she wanted me to stay away from her, I would.
Well, I’d try. I’d test the limits of my ability. I wouldn’t fucking scare her and leave creepy bullshit on her porch. I’d stay where she couldn’t see me and only look at her through the window.
Fuck me. This is why I can’t tell her. I’m not better than him. Not really.
I hug her tight, so every part of her body is pressed against mine, then lace our fingers together again. “You are safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
She relaxes against me. Then I feel her stomach jump and hear her giggle a moment later. “This is a really bad wet spot.”
“Whose fault is that?” I snicker.
“Yours!” she burst out. She pokes me. “You made me do it. It’s your fault. Admit it.”
My chest swells a little at the credit. I did make her come five times. Or maybe six. I lost count. “Fine. My fault. Let’s change the sheets before we fall asleep.”
Laughing, naked, still holding hands, we work together to strip and remake the bed, take a quick, kiss-drenched shower, and brush our teeth.
Our hands are still clasped when I wake up in the morning in Cari’s sunny bedroom, the shadows of her houseplants waving against the ceiling.
“Morning, beautiful,” I murmur when Cari’s eyes open at my movements.
She sits upright. “What time is it?”
“I don’t know. Seven-thirty, eight?” I roll over halfway to look at my phone. “Eight-twenty.”
She squeaks and tumbles off the bed in her hurry to get out of it, releasing her hold on me in the process. “I’m late. Crap. Can you call Cynthia and tell her I’m on my way?” She rattles off the number to her clinic as she rummages through her closet, pulling out fresh scrubs.
I pretend to enter the number even though I already have it saved, then call her clinic on speakerphone. When the line picks up, I recognize the voice of Cari’s red-haired receptionist in the greeting.
“Hey. It’s Zed Glisson, the dragon you met yesterday. Cari asked me to call and tell you she’s on her way.”
“Oh, did she?” Cynthia asks dryly. “And what should I tell her waiting patients?”
I lift my brows at Cari, who’s tying the waist drawstring of her pants. She shrugs at me and mouths make something up . I decide on a half-truth. “Um, she’s moving a little slow because she twisted her ankle yesterday.”
“Is that what you kids are calling it?” Cynthia snickers. “Alrighty then. I’ll say her ankle’s reaaalll sore. Tell her to hurry her cute little butt down here. I know she hasn’t left yet.” She hangs up, and Cari groans.
“I’m going to be hearing about this all day,” she says, shaking her head.
“Maybe your cute little butt should call in sick and spend the day with me.”
She sighs, but she’s smiling. “Can’t. Wish I could, but I have a full schedule. We don’t want the Karfani family’s cockapoo’s itchy ears to go untreated, do we? Anyway, you have your conference thing. You can’t miss that.”
I can, but how can I say that without giving myself away? Gods, she’s lovely with the light shining in her hair. I want to hoard her for myself, but her job is important. A lot of people (and other animals) are depending on her. “Definitely not. How’s your ankle, though? Should I carry you to work? I think I’m going to skip out on the conference stuff today, anyway. I’m a little burned out on PowerPoint presentations.”
She tests her ankle and pronounces it fine as she’s scraping her hair back into an adorably stubby half-ponytail. “I’m good to walk.”
“Have breakfast with me?” My chest aches at the thought of being apart for her for a whole day. Our night together has definitely deepened the alokoi bond.
“I’ll grab something at work. I’ve gotta run. You should stay in bed, though. Stay as long as you want.” Cari pauses, frowning. “I know this is a huge favor, but since you’re not working, do you mind keeping Radar for the day? That way he’ll get enough exercise that it’ll wear him out, and he’ll just sleep through the whole gala tonight. It’s black tie so I don’t want him acting wild. Wait, did I tell you that you need a tux? You need a tux.”
“I figured since Radar’s wearing a bow tie, I should, too. The little guy and I can get dressed together.”
She pauses to flash a grateful smile. “I have a hair appointment after work so I’ll meet you guys at the venue, okay? Radar’s bowtie is in his toy basket. Call me if you can’t find it.”
“Okay.” I’ll agree to anything and everything she asks. I’d wear an inflatable baby costume and babysit her pet velociraptor if she wanted me to.
I’m still drunk on her proximity. Her beauty. Her amazing, adorable mind. I should tell her how incredible she is. How I can’t believe we’re finally together again, and that we fit together even better than my fantasies.
That’s not weird to say, is it? I’m so obsessed with her that I can’t even remember what’s normal or not.
I open my mouth, but she’s already halfway down the hall when I finish my sentence. The second I hear the front door close behind her, I roll over and open the forbidden drawer.
That fabric I grabbed? It’s a pair of panties with the crotch cut out.
A chill lifts the scales on my spine. Underneath them is a crude doll made of sticks, with yellow, dried-grass hair. Tied to its stick-neck is a piece of twine with one dangling end. It’s obviously supposed to be Cari.
Mate , my feral form growls, poised to shift and destroy whoever tormented her with this bullshit. I remind him that taking the roof off her cottage isn’t going to win any points, and he settles down, but we’re both uneasy.
I set the doll aside, feeling sick. A note underneath says in jagged, blocky letters, “You’ll love me in time. I don’t care how long it takes.” My claws pierce the paper before I realize what’s happening. The rest of the drawer is a mess of paper scraps with scrawled messages, painted rocks, dried flowers and leaves, and—maybe most ominously—flash drives. A lot of them.
I don’t know what’s on them, but I definitely shouldn’t have let Cari walk to work alone. Grabbing my phone, I redial the clinic.
“Miss her already, loverboy?” Cynthia snarks.
“Is she there?” I ask tightly.
“Just walked through the door on two good ankles. You want to talk to her? It’s your dragon, honey.” Cynthia doesn’t wait for my answer to hand the phone over.
“Hey,” Cari says into the phone. My racing heart calms a little. “What do you need? Is Radar being a butthead?”
“We’re fine. Just wanted to make sure you got there okay.”
“Aw.” Her voice warms. “You’re sweet. I’m good.”
“Good.” I clear my throat, not wanting to transmit any of the panic I felt until I heard her voice. “See you later. Don’t forget to eat something.”
I end the call furious with myself. Why did I need to hold the threats in my own hands to fully understand the danger she’s been in? Why didn’t I just take her word for it? I mean, I believed her. But I didn’t feel the true depth of her fear until now. I’m a fucking idiot for letting her walk alone, especially without Radar!
She deserves better from her mate. I’m going to give her better.
I snap into action. Throwing on yesterday’s clothes and twisting my hair up off my ears, I let the dog out of his crate and do my best to clean up the house from our activities.
Humming cheesy pop songs about love, I make the bed and throw last night’s dirty sheets in the laundry. I feed Radar his breakfast while I make coffee and unload the dishwasher. I locate a travel mug and take him out for a long trot around the park while I caffeinate. I’m so hopped up on my alokoi’s scent, it’s like the blue sky and the birdsong is just for me.
“Beautiful morning to stretch our legs, isn’t it, little guy?” I ask Radar when he stops to pee on a tree.
“Ugh! What the fuck, dude?”
Oops. Not a tree. On closer look, it’s Gabe. All six-foot-six hairy inches of him.
“What are you doing here?!”
He rolls his eyes, puffing away his forelock. “What do you think? Saving you from yourself, as usual. I came out on the first flight I could get. I’m worried about you.”
Aw. He really cares. My full heart overflows, and I throw my arms around Gabe. “Thanks, man. Seems like I don’t need saving this time, though. I told you, this is the real deal.”
“Okay, bud.” He pats my back, indicating it’s time to let go. I give him one last bear hug and release him, grinning.
“You remember Radar?”
“How could I forget?” Gabe wrinkles his nose at the wet streak in his fur that begins mid-calf, where the evidence of Radar’s potty break is still trickling down his leg.
“Not my fault you’re so good at camouflage,” I joke, and he gives a grudging laugh. “I’m watching him for Cari while she’s at work. We had an amazing date,” I add as we fall into step, headed in the direction of the hotel. “I need to update my spreadsheet.”
Need to record everything I know about her now. The way she likes to be touched. The way she sounds. The way she tastes.
Gabe makes a noncommittal noise, dragging his small, wheeled carryon behind us. “Fine. Hey, is it okay if I crash with you? All the hotels are full because of some event.”
“Oh, sure. There’s a big charity thing tonight. I’m going with Cari, actually. Want to help me find something to wear? I need a tux.”
Gabe snorts. “Since when are you a tux guy? All you own are jeans and khakis.”
“Since my mate invited me to a black-tie event. Anyway, I also have cargo pants—”
“Those are khakis with extra pockets,” Gabe interrupts.
“And a pair of corduroys.”
“Jeans with different fabric.”
“Jeans with different fabric are different kinds of pants,” I shoot back, feeling a little defensive of my basic style. Nothing wrong with my jeans and T-shirts! I want to look nice for Cari tonight, though. I nudge him with my elbow. “I just need to find some ‘jeans’ with fancy fabric that fit and have a tail hole.”
“They’re not going to let you in the tux shop with that dog,” Gabe warns, ever the pessimist.
“Perfect,” I say. “You can stand outside and hold the leash.”