Alpha Wife (Married to a Monster #2)

Chapter 1

one

. . .

I hate cages.

The little striped face peered out at me through the black bars, shiny nose twitching while the black mask around his eyes made him look like he was hiding his true identity. I could relate.

“Cool! What are you going to do with her?” Samantha asked our old neighbor, tugging on my hand and lingering so that she could see Mr. Andrea’s newest catch, preferring that to hurrying to school. We had very different preferences.

“You know that Mr. Andrea releases his animals in the country,” I reminded her, gently urging her faster while he gave her a fond smile.

“That’s right, Sammy. I’m going to release her tomorrow morning,” Mr. Andrea said, ruffling my daughter’s hair. Our neighbor’s yard was a wilderness of tangled up plants growing over discarded pots, bikes, and sculptures that he collected on his Saturday bike tours. I kept my yard spare and bare, less effort to keep up, fewer pests to deal with.

I tugged on her hand. “If we’re late again, you’ll have to stay after to clean the boards, but you have another appointment today with Dr. Soares.” I forced a smile at the old man whose little bungalow came up against our fence.

She made a face and moved even more slowly. “I’d rather clean the boards than go to another appointment.”

“Gotta get your check-ups so you can grow up to be strong and healthy like your mama,” he said with a wink at me. The octogenarian was probably my most likely chance at romance at that point in my life. I’d had worse.

“Sam, if you drag your feet and we end up paying a late fee at the doctor’s, it’s coming out of your allowance.”

She sighed heavily and then followed me more quickly to our small orange sedan, a car that had seen so many better days, and probably wouldn’t see many worse as it was on its last rattling-death-trap legs.

“I don’t know why we have to go to another appointment. They always say the same thing, that it’s just a cold or a flu bug, and I need to drink more liquids and take more vitamins.”

I nodded as I pulled on my seatbelt, but I wasn’t really listening. Cages. My hands were still shaking, which was ridiculous, because it had been over fourteen years ago that a psychopath had stuck me in a cage and experimented on me. At least I imagine that’s what he was doing. You couldn’t exactly trust people who lure you close with flattery, charm and excessive good looks and then drug you, but instead of a nice, normal rape, put you in a cage where they keep you for months.

Yep. Now I had knots in my stomach while my hands trembled, but all of that was in the past, where it would stay. “Cheer up. It’s mostly checking your blood and discussing your test results with the doctor. It’ll be fast and dirty, and then we’ll get to the gym and spar.”

She sighed and shook her head. “My friends get ice cream after they go to the doctor.”

“Your friends’ mothers don’t love them as much as I love you, or they wouldn’t get them hopped up on sugar on a school night. Did you finish your homework?”

“You asked me five times.”

“And the answer was…” I pulled into the school drop-off, right behind Clarissa Rowlings, who always brought ice-cream sandwiches to events, but didn’t let her own daughter eat any. At least I brought carrots and hummus for everyone, not that anyone seemed to appreciate it.

“Love you,” she said, avoiding the question, then grabbed her bag and darted out of the car, a small bundle of energy when she wasn’t sick and sacked out on the couch with a fever or another endless cold. I hoped so much that today we’d finally have some answers. I’d stayed up so many nights researching her symptoms but coming up with the same nothing as the doctors did.

I watched her little head bobbing among the other students before I tried to pull out, and then had to slam on my brakes as Clarissa opened her door, blocking the entire road as she started flirting with the Biology teacher, who was this morning’s traffic controller.

I stuck my head out the window. “Hey, some people have to get to work,” I called, trying to keep my tone light and non-aggressive, because I was a nice, passive, single mom who couldn’t afford pissing off the head of the PTO.

She flipped her excellent blow-out and ignored me. She was working on her fourth divorce, and maybe had the biology teacher slotted for her break between her upward mobility efforts.

She laughed and put her hand on his arm, and I accidentally put my elbow on my horn, hard and fast, so she jumped and gave me a surprised look while I answered with a sheepish grimace, you know, because I’d never intentionally honk at someone who was clearly violating all the rules she’d so assiduously established. Finally, she got back into her car and pulled out. She drove maddeningly slowly, but somehow I didn’t ram her back fender, even when she intentionally slammed on her brake too fast at the corner. Good thing, because I couldn’t afford a hike in my insurance or a fender bender repair.

Finally, I got to work at a small accounting firm, where they let me have flexible hours that went with flexible pay, as in not a lot, but the benefits were good, and with Sam’s health issues, I worked from home more than anyone else. At her age, I’d already started bringing home martial arts medals, the only good thing I’d brought home according to my many foster families, but she couldn’t seriously compete or take part in any other sport that required consistency.

Work was work, but it didn’t keep me busy enough to not worry about Sam. There had to be answers, somewhere, to the puzzle about her chronic and inconsistent illness.

“Leaving early again to take Sam in?” Eleanor asked, adjusting her glasses and peering at me intently.

“That’s right.”

“Have you contacted her father’s family to find out if it’s something genetic?”

My whole body went cold and then hot at the thought of the only man I’d ever wanted enough to lose every one of my inhibitions with. “He’s not in the picture,” I reminded with a smile.

“But surely you can get ahold of someone in his family.”

No, actually, I couldn’t, because as far as I knew, he was an orphan child to orphans, like me. We hadn’t discussed in-depth things like the past or the future, not when I was trying to live in the moment, to get over all the trauma, but moments never lasted very long, however much you wanted them to.

I changed the subject and kept checking the time until I had to slip out of the office and pick up Sam.

It was the same as a million other doctor visits, only it felt like Dr. Soares was prying too much, asking me if I was seeing anyone, when was the last time I’d seen Sam’s dad, and then asking me if I’d like to go to dinner some time to discuss something other than test results.

I took a step back, bumping into a pan filled with steel equipment, and everything fell with an enormous clatter that got the attention of the pretty nurse down the hall, staring at the repressed accountant who wouldn’t ever step on anyone’s toes.

I stared at Dr. Soares more confused than I’d been in a long time. “Dinner?”

“She’ll think about it,” Sam called, dragging me this time, away from the man who was supposed to have answers, but instead had only given me another pointless question. I was still confused when we got to the car.

“He wanted to take you on a date,” she informed me flatly before buckling up. She was always cranky after doctor appointments, and I couldn’t blame her.

“What? Why?”

She gave me a wrinkled nose. “I guess because you’re not half-ugly for an old person. I’ve overheard nurses commenting on his newly single status, so he’s probably getting over his last relationship and moving on to something else. I’ve heard that people do that, you know, get over things and move on. You should date him. You should date someone, or at least get a pet, something.”

I frowned at her. “You’ve been listening to Uncle Danny. That way lies madness, my dear.”

“Staying single just because you had your heart broken is madness. At least that’s what Carrie says. Her mom’s really good at moving on.”

I winced. If my daughter thought that Clarissa Rowlings was healthier than I was, maybe I had some work to do.

The gym was the same as always, long and narrow, a mirror at the end, punching bags hanging in the corners, and offices in the back.

“Who’s my favorite little cockroach juvenile delinquent?” Danny cried, scooping up Sam and spinning her around like she wasn’t on the delicate side. He was a very attractive man, with his long dark hair, chiseled cheekbones, and perfectly muscular lean body. Good thing I knew him well enough from the time before he’d gotten vain when we’d been foster care siblings.

“Careful,” I said, with a strained smile.

He ignored me and threw her up in the air before he caught her from the side and flipped her over his arm, helping her land on her feet while she laughed and beamed at him.

“Uncle Danny, Doctor Soares asked mom on a date. Tell her that she has to go or she’ll teach me to fear love and relationships. I’ll be emotionally scarred forever.” She gazed at him with her soft brown eyes, eyes so much like her father’s.

I shook off the sudden pang in my chest. “Or you’ll be traumatized by your mother dating your doctor and the conflict of interest that would create.”

“Doc Soares is hot,” Danny said helpfully, batting his dark lashes at me. “Almost as gorgeous a creature as myself. Say yes, prickly princess. Say yes and let him sweep you up to his house in the clouds with its four-car garage, and then I’ll be able to live over the garage. Now that is a happily-ever-after that I can live with. By the way, the rent will be late this month, because I had to call the plumber about the men’s restroom. You’re the best landlord ever. Who knew that when you landed on my doorstep needing a place to live, the tables would turn so karmaically?”

I sniffed. “I knew. Your luck has always fluctuated worse than Hetta’s weight.” Hetta was his dog, an old tiny creature that binge-ate and vomited periodically when she didn’t just binge-eat. Hetta was definitely not one of the perks of having Danny in the little step-mother apartment above my bungalow.

“Don’t speak ill of those who can’t defend themselves. Speaking of, Canary signed up for a private lesson, and here you are, just looking like you have patience and energy to spare.” He batted his lashes at me again.

“And Carrie Canary’s mom? Where will she be? Hm? If you take her into the office to have a long chat, I’m personally stapling your balls to the desk.”

He gave me a sunny smile while he covered Sammy’s ears. “I love it when you get jealous and that red hair gets the better of you. Watch your language around the innocent ears because we aren’t in foster homes anymore. This is a respectable business.”

I snorted. “Sometimes I think you should just hang a prostitution sign and be done with it.”

“And I always think that you should let down your hair literally and figuratively and let some sexy sauce onto your burrito.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Burritos are magnificent.”

“Yes, literal burritos are magnificent, but you weren’t talking about cheesy goodness, you were talking about?—”

Sam interrupted. “You know I can still hear both of you, right?” She pulled his hands off his ears and shook her head at him. “You shouldn’t rile mom up before she has to deal with Carrie. You are going to spar with mom afterwards, and she’ll probably break your jaw, and you’ll deserve it for talking innuendoes no one wants to hear. If you ruined burritos for us, you’d have to die. Good luck, mom. Don’t break a leg, because it would be hers.”

She gave me a fierce smile that I returned before I went to the class, almost bumping into Clarissa as she came out of the bathroom, the one that somehow wasn’t broken. The old gym needed a total overhaul, but Danny didn’t have the money to do more than keep the old place limping along.

Daniel Pughurst was a kid I’d shared a foster home with soon after my parents died, and my new foster parents were the ones who had gotten us both into martial arts. I knew him well enough to know that when I showed up pregnant without a cent, he’d take advantage of my skills, put me to work, and give me somewhere to stay without asking too many questions. Danny was handsome, vain, lazy, but for all of that had a good heart. He was also a serial dater who had personally spent some time with Clarissa between her many marriages. That was not my scene. I’d never been one for casual relationships, and after I had Sam, didn’t need anyone else, particularly when Danny decided that I was the little sister that needed protection and to loan him cash.

“Oh, you’re here,” Clarissa said with that face, like she wasn’t aware that I taught when I had time for it.

“Thank you. I wondered where I was.” I tried for a soft laugh, but I sounded as stressed as I felt. I’d been counting on answers from the doctor. Sam’s symptoms weren’t going away. No, they were getting worse, and I was supposed to sit back and do nothing? No, I was supposed to watch the most uncoordinated child in the world fall over for the sixth time when she tried to kick. Carrie Canary was an oppressed kid whose mother kept putting her into things to help her become the graceful swan her mother intended her to be. It wasn’t the lack of grace, but the attitude that made teaching her a trial that Danny so happily passed on to me.

“Mizz Jones, if you were a better teacher, I wouldn’t have fallen,” she said, angrily climbing to her feet. Because she said, ‘mizz,’ that made everything else all right.

“Miss Carrie, try again. Keep your foot below the height of your knee until you find your balance,” I said for the seventh time.

She glared at me and kicked as high as she could, once more landing on her back, hard enough to knock the breath out of her. Why? That’s when she started screaming, and Clarissa came in with a pre-appalled expression, as she turned her shock on me. It would take me five seconds to sweep her and then do a nice easy drop down on her, puncturing a lung, maybe a kidney with my elbow. I really shouldn’t be on the mat with her.

I immediately edged away, because the last thing the gym needed was a lawsuit, and my temper, while it hadn’t gotten away from me for years, was still my daily companion that I had to always keep under wraps.

“What are you doing to her?” she demanded, hands on hips, while Danny looked at me over her shoulder, mouthing something dramatically.

“Nothing. Your daughter doesn’t listen to my instructions or her own body telling her its limits. Feel free to get a refund, and never come back.” I clenched my teeth when the words were out.

She kicked off her shoes and came onto the mat, blocking my exit while her eyes brightened with anger. She took a crouching stance and raised her fists. It wasn’t the worst stance I’d ever seen, but what was she doing coming onto my mat with aggression?

“Get off my mat,” I said flatly, letting the words fall hard.

She raised her chin and then jabbed at me, hitting my shoulder. It was a love tap compared to some of the knocks I’d taken, but it was the spirit of the thing. “Do you think that I’m going to allow you to torture my kid?”

“You’re the only one who can do that?” I narrowed my eyes at her, but didn’t do anything until she punched at me again, this time at my face.

I could have blocked and returned an easy punch, giving her the chance to duck, but instead I dropped down, grabbed her with my legs and threw her, judo style.

It wasn’t the worst damage I could have done, not by a long shot, but it sent her tumbling across the mat while I rolled to my feet and headed for the door.

Danny’s smile was amused in spite of the money we’d lose. He loved to see my temper get the better of me. By the look on Sam’s face, he wasn’t the only one. Savages. Which was why we were family.