Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Brakkor
I felt like I might die.
Dramatic, much?
But it was the truth. Jocelyn was walking out on me again, and I had to stand there and watch it. I wouldn’t have believed it was possible, but this sucked even more than knowing that she snuck away from that hotel room weeks ago.
My claws dug into my biceps when I curled my fingers, keeping them locked in place instead of reaching for her.
Don’t go.
Sounded weak as fuck, yeah? Well, I was beginning to think that maybe I needed to sound weak, to keep my female—
Whoa, she’s not yours. She’s just a hookup, someone you haven’t gotten out of your system. Maybe if you’d been the one to walk away, you wouldn’t be feeling this way.
That was probably it.
My chest itched again—hells, my entire body itched! And my Kteer howled against my chest, feeling as if I were a caged animal pacing behind bars, growling at my captor. At Jocelyn?
She’s not at fault here. She didn’t do anything you haven’t done. You’re pissed at her because she held you to your word? Fuck your feelings, asshole.
Having feelings was damned inconvenient.
I stared down at Jocelyn, fumbling to get her car started, a million thoughts running through my head—disgust at myself, anger at her, intense irritation, and arousal, which had started the moment I caught her scent—until I realized what I was seeing.
When I heard her groan of failure, all those other feelings dropped right out of my mind, and my entire being snapped into sharp focus of one goal: helping her.
I stepped forward and tapped gently on the window.
Her only response was another groan as she lifted her forehead and dropped it back again. My lips twitched as I realized she was as dramatic as I was.
“Joss, can I help you?”
“Do you know anything about engines?” she mumbled.
I’m not sure if she intended me to hear it through the window. I’m not sure if she realized how sharp my senses were. I’m not sure if she’d meant for me to hear that earlier comment about not wanting to be hurt.
But I had.
“Joss, I’ve spent the last decade operating heavy equipment. Yeah, I know a bit about engines.”
I saw her blow out a breath, saw her straighten. She reached for the handle and the little pull to pop the hood, and when she emerged, she began rambling as she led me to the front of the car.
“It’s been threatening to die on me for ages. I should’ve started looking for a new car a few months ago but didn’t have the money. Wouldn’t have been able to afford this weekend if I had, I guess. So that was worth it. But I don’t know what to do, or how I’m going to get home, or…”
“Hey, it’s okay, Kitten,” I said gently, settling the hood on the support rod. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
I’d watched her try to crank the car, and there’d only been that hollow click—nothing had caught, not even a sluggish attempt.
That narrowed down the diagnoses pretty quick.
Now I leaned down, eyes tracking the starter housing, fingers checking the connections out of habit more than hope.
Everything looked intact. No corrosion, no loose cables. Which meant her starter was dead.
“Yeah.” I pointed “Engine’s not even trying to turn.”
Jocelyn had been hovering at my side, close enough to touch. Now when she leaned over to see where I was pointing, and her arm brushed mine, I could feel my Kteer howl.
Damn, I really wanted her, didn’t I? That one night hadn’t been enough to get her out of my system. Wonder if you could talk her into another night…
I’d watched her try to leave, and I felt like my chest was cracking in two. Her car troubles meant I had a few more minutes with her, even as I railed against myself for trying to facilitate her leaving.
But the more I poked and muttered to myself, the more my hopes raised.
I swallowed. “So your starter is shot,” I told her as I straightened. When had it gotten so dark? “We could pull it out and see if we can diagnose it, or we can wait for a new one.”
“New one?” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t have the time or the money for that.”
“Okay, I’ll see what we can do.”
“We?” she asked tentatively.
“There’s a male on the island who runs an autobody shop. Cairo—he’s not bad.” I liked him because he didn’t see the need to sugarcoat shit either. “I trust him.”
Jocelyn’s nod was tentative. “Then I trust him too.”
Fuck me, why did that hit me right in the chest? That little vote of confidence? Damn.
I was pulling out my phone when I realized the sky had darkened with fast-moving clouds. Frowning up at them, I waited for Cairo to pick up.
“What?”
That’s why I liked him: to the point, no small talk. “You got a starter sitting around? I’m looking at a broken one.”
Cairo grunted. Then, “And you want to see if we can take some of mine apart? Why not? Bring it over.”
“It’s still in the sedan. Which isn’t working.”
I heard the other male blow out an irritated breath, which just made me grin wider. “Dravik is better with engine repairs. Give me the specs, I’ll see what we can figure out.”
Dravik was one of the males who’d come with us to Eastshore when the Colorado mine had closed down, and I was pleased he’d begun to work with Cairo.
So I told him what I could as the storm blew in from the north, the wind whipping Jocelyn’s hair. She stared wide-eyed at me as she tried to control it, and the fast-moving air brought the scent of her fear.
Fear of the storm? Fear for her car? Or fear of me?
“Uh-huh,” I agreed with his final prognosis. “Okay, thanks man. I’ll let her know. The keys will be in the…?” I turned an expectant look on Jocelyn.
“Cupholder,” she blurted. “As long as no one will break in.”
I shook my head at her question. “Cupholder,” I told Cairo. “Let me know what I owe you.”
When I hung up, Jocelyn had moved closer, using me as a windbreak against the wet wind chasing the storm ahead of it. “I’m paying for the fix,” she told me. “What did he say?”
“He said he’ll do some research while I get you out of this storm, then he’ll tow it back to his place and see what he can do. If it can be fixed, he’ll do it; otherwise, he’ll put in an order from the mainland.”
She groaned and dropped her head forward. “I can’t afford—”
“Hey, we help each other out on Eastshore.” Before she could object more, I fished my key fob out of my pocket and handed it to her. “Grab your stuff and load it into my truck.” I nodded to where I’d parked by all the equipment. “I’ll go lock down my backhoe, and we’ll get you out of the rain.”
Her fingers brushed mine as she took the offering, but her warm-honey eyes were suspicious. “He didn’t tell you to take care of me while we waited, did he?”
I just smiled at her as I took off in a jog for my excavator.
I took her to my apartment. Smart? Probably not. Worth it? Fuck yes. The storm had moved in big time by then, and seemed to be camped out over the island. I saw the way Jocelyn flinched when a lightning strike hit a few streets over, and I was suddenly anxious as hells to get her safe and dry.
“This is the biggest building on the island,” I was explaining to her as I carried her suitcase down the hall.
“Before we moved here, there was a big debate about affordable housing versus turning the island into a tourist trap, so this was Sakkara’s compromise; a condo building with a short-term rental cap.
This space used to be a parking lot for the docks—that’s why the parking garage is beneath us. ”
And why she hadn’t gotten wet on the walk to the elevators. “I did notice a lack of hotels,” she mused as I keyed in my door code. “The bed and breakfast was the only place with availability, and it cost an arm and a leg.”
“No worries, I have plenty of space.”
I heard her suck in a breath—to tell me she wasn’t staying?—but then we stepped into the condo, and she was distracted enough to mutter a, “Wow.”
I shrugged and put her suitcase down in the middle of the room. “Korrad and I have always lived together, so we signed a lease on the biggest unit available. When he decided he was ready to build a house for him and Jay, I agreed to stick out the lease.”
Jocelyn stood in what used to be the living room—now it was just empty space—and turned in a slow circle. “He took all the furniture.”
“He needed it more.” I jerked my chin at the folding table and the lawn chairs. “That’s all I need, plus the stuff in the bedroom.”
When I turned to the kitchen, I heard her sneak over to look into my fully furnished bedroom, and hid my smile.
“Is spaghetti alright for dinner?”
She hesitated, and I wondered if she was going to protest, to put more distance between us…but she sighed and called out, “Spaghetti sounds great. Can I help?”
Having her in my space should have felt weird.
I’d lived my life with my brothers. Kardok had moved out, and then when Jay joined us, it had been as if he was an extension of us.
My twin and nephew moving out had made this place—and my chest—feel a little empty.
I didn’t need them, but I was used to them. I wasn’t used to anyone else.
But Jocelyn…
There was a kind of rightness, ease, having her in the kitchen, moving around like she knew what she was doing.
In all my experience, I’d never had a female in my space.
I’d always met them in their beds, or neutral territory like that hotel.
Hunt. Catch. Fuck. That didn’t include bringing her back to my bed.
Except it felt right to do that with Jocelyn.
You are desperate, huh?
Strangely, the irritation I’d been dealing with for weeks, the itchy-all-over feeling, wasn’t as bad tonight.
But as we worked together, I could tell that Jocelyn wasn’t nearly as pleased by this arrangement as my Kteer apparently was.
Each time the thunder clashed, she glanced toward the window, and I could smell her discomfort.
Was she nervous about being here? Or about me?
Well, fuck that.