Chapter 7
I slinked through the edge of the forest, heading toward the lights of the gas station a bit farther down the road. I’d been running in my wolf form until I was outside of the pack land, not shifting until I absolutely had to.
Hopefully, Verity would be there once I arrived because I was not looking forward to flouncing out of the forest naked. I hugged my boobs, widening my stride.
The rumble of an engine echoed from down the road. Swatting foliage out of my face, I squinted toward the vehicle. Was that her?
I stepped out of the trees and inched closer to the side of the road. If this wasn’t her, it was going to be embarrassing.
As I shivered, the car slowed and stopped.
She wound the window down, her eyebrows raised. I didn’t bother waiting and ran to the passenger side, sliding into the warm cab of the old Kia.
“So when you said it was an emergency . . . did you mean like a walk-of-shame sort?” she drawled, reaching behind my seat. She pulled a large hoodie out and tossed it onto my lap. Without wasting any time, I slid it on. Fortunately, it was long enough to cover my ass.
“Something like that,” I muttered.
Verity clicked her tongue.
“You and Tate always had so many secrets,” she grumbled. It was something she was always pointing out, but we couldn’t tell her we were shifters; she’d think we were psychotic. “Are you guys in the mafia or a cartel?”
I huffed, rolling my eyes.
“Worse,” I muttered the exaggeration. I wouldn’t be able to tell her anyway. The existence of shifters couldn’t be discovered. It’d just give rise to a wave of vigilante groups. Her eyes widened and she swung her head back to the front and put the car in drive.
“I won’t ask then,” she said, shaking her head. “I’d like to live my life the whole way through, thank you very much.”
I snorted.
We fell into a comfortable silence, only the sound of the engine filling the car. She cleared her throat, and I knew she was revving herself up to ask me something I wouldn’t be able to give her the full answer to.
“Is this about that hottie who had his hands all over you at the Gala?”
My mouth thinned, and she peeked at me from the side. “And that’s a yes.” She sounded almost sad. “Lucian Wilder is bad news, girly.”
Stiffening, I whipped my head toward her.
“You know him.”
“Ha! I know of him. Honestly, girl, I was surprised you were with them. The Wilder family is on a different stratosphere; they look down their noses at us.”
My lip trembled, and I dropped my eyes. Lucian never asked for someone like me.
He wanted someone poised and perfect, like Cierra.
I held on to my resolve and shrugged. It was what it was.
Neither of us were any less because of our backgrounds.
What made Cierra awful was trying to kill me over a fucking guy.
Little did she know, if she’d come at me the right way, I would have just stepped aside. I hated drama with a fucking passion.
“Sorry,” she whispered and squeezed my shoulder.
“ I’m sorry for calling you to come get me. I just don’t have anyone . . .” I clamped my lips shut.
“After the accident with your dad?”
I swung my eyes toward her. I kept the reason for my incarceration to myself while I was behind bars.
“You looked me up?”
“Duh.” She wrinkled her nose. “But no wonder you stayed way clear of the shit in there.” The contraband. Drugs of all shapes and sizes. People would sell them, too. I almost got wrapped up in being a cover-up for that shit until Tate was switched to my unit.
“Have you contacted Tate?”
“Yes, once, she asked about you.”
I hadn’t. As soon as I’d come out, it was about getting on my feet and figuring out my new normal. Then Lucian crashed into my life, so I hadn’t even had a second to breathe.
“What’s your address?”
I froze, my entire body stiffening. He knew where I lived; he’d find me. “I . . .”
She peeked over at me, her eyebrows scrunched together.
“Girl, it’s okay. You can crash with me for as long as you need.”
My face heated, and I immediately wanted to say no. A clear aspect I’d inherited from my dad. He never wanted handouts or help of any kind.
“I’ll start applying for jobs,” I blurted instead.
“Don’t worry about that right now.”
“No, I can’t just stay without pulling my weight?—”
“Breathe, babes.” She put her hand up, cutting me off.
“I can ask my boss if they’re hiring, if you’re interested?” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s harder to get a job with a record, but they’re very open, and since they know me, they’ll push your application through.”
“I would really appreciate that,” I mumbled. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball. The sadness in my voice made me cringe. I hated how weak and feeble I sounded. “I don’t want to take up too much of your space. I mean, I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can.”
“You can stay in my office, I say I’ll use it, but never do,” she snorted. Relief dropped my shoulders. I’d make enough money to get a flight out of here with time, I’d leave all of it behind me. Only after I found out where Cierra was and who the two male voices were.
“Thank you,” I rasped.
“No worries.” Each tap of her finger on the steering wheel was loud. “It’s too quiet.”
She reached for the stereo, and music blared through the speakers. “I live on the outskirts of the city, so settle in.” She was driving to the opposite end of town from where we were now.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
As much as I hated admitting it, fucking Lucian calmed the restlessness in my veins.
Maybe in the future, we could come up with some sort of arrangement to see each other when the ache became too much .
. . No, I doubted he’d stop fucking other shifters, and I wasn’t interested in catching anything.
My forehead thumped on the windowpane.
Verity’s cell phone rang, the sound high-pitched. She fumbled for it.
“It’s you?” she muttered, holding up the phone in my direction. I took it from her and answered.
“Hello?” Alex said from the other end.
“How did you get this number?”
“Redialed . . . My contact . . . back to me.”
“You’re cutting out.” I must have fucked the phone up even more when I tossed it on the floor.
“. . . be at Red Fang Pub,” the line sizzled. “This Saturday.”
“Wait, are you talking about Stools?” I gasped.
Another fizzle of the phone, a faint, “Yes,” and then it went silent.
Hopefully, soon, I would have answers.
I rotted on Verity’s office couch for exactly two days. Forty-eight hours of staring at a plain ceiling fan. I would have remained there if I didn’t have to shower and get ready to go to the pub that Sheriff Stools frequented.
As risky as it was, I’d decided to bring Verity with me. I shouldn’t be going anywhere alone. At the very least, since she was human, she wouldn’t attract any shifter attention.
The couch creaked under my weight as I shifted to a sitting position.
The blanket pooled around my waist. Various memories rifling through my head, and I couldn’t help but mourn who I’d been.
The young girl who’d been excited about a new city, a university, and a new pack. I squeezed my eyes so tight it hurt.
It felt like a completely different reality. It was a different reality, and at this point, I didn’t know what I wanted anymore. I was lost . . . I rubbed my fists into my grainy eyes.
Enough, I had to get up now before I never got up again.
Once I managed to muster the strength, I pushed to my feet and left the office, shuffling into the living room where Verity was sprawled, watching television.
“She lives!” Verity moaned.
“Barely,” I responded in the same tone.
“Are you ready to actually eat now?”
“I’m not hungry.” I hadn’t been, not even a little, and I wouldn’t have eaten anything the last two days if Verity hadn’t brought me green, healthy shakes every morning and evening. She wouldn’t leave me be until I sucked them down.
I plopped next to her on the living room couch. Silently, I watched the sitcom for a moment and built up the courage to bring up the conversation.
“So, do you remember when you asked about what I was involved with?” She pressed pause on her show and whipped to look at me. Her eyes glittered with excitement. She wanted the tea, but I wouldn’t be able to give her any.
“Yes.” She drew out the word.
“I need your help with something.”
“Yes,” she hissed. “I want in.”
“But,” I said, raising my voice. “You can’t ask too many questions. I’ll tell you some surface-level things, but if I stay silent on other aspects, don’t push me for answers.” She was almost vibrating with excitement. “Do you agree?”
She nodded hard, making her nose ring bob.
“Does this have something to do with your conviction?”
I straightened my shoulders.
“It does,” I croaked.
“I read up on your case. It seems off. Sorry, kid, but based on the records, you would have been behaving very differently if you’d been coming off long-term drug use.”
I’d read the docket, too. I knew it by heart, but before a few nights ago, I hadn’t known how utterly inflamed the charges had been. It was so obviously falsified.
“Kid?” I raised my eyebrows.
“I’m older than you; let me revel in my advanced age. Anyway, answer, does it have to do with it?”
“Yes.” I met her eyes directly. Hers flitted to the side, avoiding mine. It was instinctual. Even though she wasn’t a shifter, she still sensed my dominance. “I was framed.”
Her eyes thinned.
“Tell me everything you can.”
I swallowed hard, her words hitting me like a freight train. Her determination to help me was obvious, and it made it hard to get the words out. I cleared my throat and launched into explaining everything I could.