18. Odell
EIGHTEEN
ODELL
Hunter insisted I get some sleep, and while I doubted I’d close my eyes since I was so wound up, I traipsed into the bedroom and closed the door. But after getting into bed and twiddling my fingers, I got up and left the door ajar.
He’d left a lamp on for my benefit, saying shifters could see in the dark. Therewas a lump on the couch under the quilt, which I guessed was Hunter. He stirred and sat up as the door opened, and I felt as though I owed him an explanation.
“In case we come up with any ideas and want to discuss them during the night.”
His face was blank of expression, but his eyes lit up and I swore they twinkled. Once again, I clarified. “No, really.” The bedroom window allowed me to see outside, so claustrophobia wouldn’t overwhelm me. “It’s not ‘cause I’m scared of the dark or I’m worried Draven and his cronies might break in.”
It was both of those things. I was more uncomfortable surrounded by shadows than scared, but I was concerned our common enemy would track us down.
“A locked door wouldn’t stop him.”
Now his face showed emotion—his features were pinched, and there was a sharp intake of breath from him. “Not that’s he’s going to. We’ll get to him before he has a hint of where we are.”
“Nice save but not good enough. Now I’ll never close my eyes.”
“Would it help if I slept in the bedroom too?”
My initial reaction was negative. Having my husband sleep beside me, I’d lie unmoving and stiff in case I brushed against him. But there was something in my belly, a tingling that suggested it’d be okay, until Hunter clarified with, “On the floor.”
I opened my mouth to refuse, but why when his presence might help me get some sleep?
“Sure, but sleeping on the floor will be uncomfortable.” Sitting on the wooden floorboards was one thing, but sleeping? Nah.
“I can shift. My beast doesn’t mind a hard surface.”
“Okay.” I scrambled into bed and pulled the quilt up to my chin. But Hunter would be getting naked before he shifted, so I yanked the covers over my head. A rustle followed by a shuffling and I assumed he was done. Flipping the quilt off, I was confronted with a very naked alpha.
How many times had I caught more than a glimpse of his dick? I added them up. This must be three. How ridiculous that I’d almost been killed and I was concentrating on mundane details such as Hunter’s length. And what a length it was.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. Shifters aren’t as embarrassed by nudity as humans are.”
I stayed silent, because if I poo-pooed that suggestion, he might say, “Show me yours then!”
He wouldn’t, though. That much I’d learned about him. In another life… Nope, I couldn’t go there, wouldn’t imagine a future where the teacher dated the handsome mobster. But he was looking out for me.
I’d kicked and screamed and protested at his actions, but Hunter had explained that his shifter instinct swamped all other emotions. But he must be holding back because other than hand-holding, hugs, and brushing against one another, his mating impulses weren’t obvious.
My insides were a little melty at how difficult it must be repressing those emotions.
“Where do we look for Draven?” I had to get my mind off my slippery hole and his enormous cock.
“Thought you were going to sleep.”
“Can’t. Thought you were shifting.” I wanted to see more of his wolf, but I couldn’t chat to him.
“Didn’t.”
So he was still naked. More slick gushed into my PJs. Hunter said shifters had heightened senses. What if he picked up on the slick? I weighed taking another shower as opposed to staying put and decided not to move. Did I want him to scent my arousal? I refused to answer that.
“Stefan.”
“What?” That guy intruded on an image of Hunter’s dick, and that couldn’t happen.
“You said where did we start? But as he had to have been the one who alerted Draven to our plans, we could be walking into a trap if we go looking for him.”
Another one, if this morning at City Hall was the first.
“And if it wasn’t him, we could be putting him in more danger.”
Perhaps he’d already done that by bringing the guy to the bunker. Hunter and I must have been thinking the same because he muttered that he hoped Draven hadn’t hurt Stefan if the guy was innocent.
So many threads needing connecting, and some, or one in particular, needed severing.
“But we can’t go charging in alone and confront Draven.” He was silent for a minute. “We need to find out how Stefan is involved. If we make him talk, we’ll get what we need.”
“I hope he’s innocent.” In that dreary registry office at City Hall, he’d been the one person who’d tried to help me aside from Hunter. I didn’t like the idea of “making him talk,” that brought up images of torture devices from the Middle Ages.
Hunter said he’d phone his former contact at City Hall, asking for Stefan’s address. “The guy will answer my calls, even in the middle of the night.”
That was the cocky, self-assured Hunter who clicked his fingers and people came running.
“I’ll promise him a supply of the finest whiskey.”
Life went smoothly when you offered bribes, though the flip side was a possible bullet to the head.
“No need!” I pulled the card out of the shirt I’d been wearing in the panic room. “Stefan gave me his card.”
“Hmmm.”
“Oh, you’re thinking he did that on purpose, wanting us to find him and then—” I left the sentence dangling.
“Possible. But unless Flint gives us a lead on Draven, I don’t have anything else.”
“What if we asked my uncle?” It was a last resort because what could he tell us? He met Draven in some seedy gambling den?
“No, he won’t have anything useful.” He went on to say his brothers would have tracked him to wherever he met Uncle Stan.
I lay racking my brains about how my mild-mannered uncle had gotten mixed up with a guy like Draven, and my head hurt.
“What’s that noise? It was a sort of grinding, and it grated on my already frazzled nerves. I sat up, but it had stopped.
“You heard that? Sorry. It’s me grinding my teeth.”
He was worried and stressed, and me being a burden was part of that.
I turned over, urging sleep to claim me, but my head was buzzing. “We’ll need another car.”
“Excuse me?”
I rambled on about Draven and his crew having the car’s make, model, and license plate. We’d need to get hold of another vehicle.
“You’re right.” A sharp slap tore through the air, and I shot up in bed. “What was that?”
“Sorry, it was me slapping my thigh because I didn’t think of that.”
I grinned. I was making a contribution. “Please, no more smacking.”
“I’ll make a note of that.” There was a smile in his voice.
Unless… unless he was smacking me. I gasped and slapped a hand over my mouth.
“Now who’s smacking?”
“Sorry.” I sank lower in the bed, my cheeks burning. Hunter was lying on the floor, naked under the quilt. If he wasn’t in the room, I’d jerk off and picture his dick in my ass.
I wouldn’t sleep with Hunter, but the frisson of danger that sizzled around him was like the mafia version of a halo. Oh yeah, that was hot.
To get a naked Hunter out of my head, I fathomed how I could be okay with getting rid of Draven. He deserved a trial and other people weighing the evidence, not me and Hunter taking the law into our own hands.
But Hunter told me that was shifter law. Trying to kill a rival’s mate was against the rules, and if Draven was still part of a pack, the Alpha would pass judgment and kill the guy himself.
It didn’t sit easy with me but neither did me getting killed, and it wasn’t only me this affected; my aunt and uncle were involved too.
“Sleep, Odell. I’ll wake you at dawn.”
I closed my eyes, expecting to stay awake until it was time to leave. But I was woken by a weight on my chest. I did my best to scream and couldn’t. Kicking the covers off, my arms flailed as I tried to rid myself of the heaviness. Images of men in black and guns flitted through my head. Eventually I found my voice and yelled, hoping someone would hear me.
“Odell. Dellie!” The voice in my ear wasn’t a bad guy, not Draven, not my Uncle. Someone who didn’t want to hurt me but wrap me in bubble wrap and protect me. “It’s Hunter. You’re safe.”
Hunter! I reached behind me, grabbed his hand and put it over my hip. I didn’t know if I slept, but I was wrapped in a Hunter cocoon and that blocked the anxiety.
When I opened my eyes, light was filtering into the room, so it was later than five o’clock. Hunter was still cuddling me. I didn’t want to move. What if we forgot about Draven and accepted Hunter’s banishment? But we couldn’t because other people might be in danger, my family in particular.
“I wish we could stay.” I didn’t ask if he was awake, but I sensed his heart speed up when I spoke.
“Me too, but?—”
I flipped over and put a finger to his lips. “Don’t say it. I know.”
Our bodies were pressed together, and I ignored his morning wood. Instead, I gazed into his eyes and wondered what paths we’d take after Draven was no longer a problem.
Taking only enough food for the day, we “borrowed” a car from the closest shifter neighbor, one who only visited his cabin once a month. I dozed for much of the trip, as Hunter could manage the “new” car, and when we arrived, we ate a late lunch in a small diner and got to talking with the waiter who’d been born in the area. Not having gleaned much from them, we sat hugging our coffee mugs.
But as we discussed waiting until dark to turn up at Stefan’s, Hunter spotted someone on the opposite side of the street.
“Look who it is!”