Chapter 5
Blake
Twenty-five beer kegs down; another twenty-five to go.
It’s a crisp fall morning, but sweat is pouring into my eyes and running down my back.
I pause to wipe my face with my T-shirt.
The whole darn thing is drenched. I rip it off and stuff it into the back of my pants.
Instantly, I feel better. If I had my way, I wouldn’t wear clothes at all.
A whole life spent in civilization, and my beast is still as wild as any dominant were.
And right, now it snatches up any outlet for freedom.
Ever since I found out who Elinor really is, it’s been unbearable. It keeps insisting that she’s its mate—of course. It doesn’t understand how everything changed the moment she leaned across the bartop and spoke those words.
It seems incredible, but I didn’t recognize her at all. And to be honest, I still can’t square this beautiful feisty chick with the malnourished little kid in braids and glasses from high school.
But when my girl’s eyes filled with such pain, and hatred for me, my chest seized up; I couldn’t breathe. I thought my bones would crumble. My beast was fighting its way out, and I had to get out of there.
I’ve found my mate, and she hates my guts.
Because of what I did.
“Come on, kid. We’ve gotta be done in the next hour.”
I direct a snarl at my dad. I’m trying my damnedest to be patient with him, but my nerves are already frayed, and he seems to know exactly how to pluck at them.
“You’re lucky I’m helping you at all,” I growl, grabbing another keg from the back of the truck.
He snarls right back at me and snatches up the keg next to mine. Almost seventy, and his wiry strength is as relentless as ever. “Some help,” he mutters, half under his breath.
“What!?” I roar. I drop the keg I’m carrying and straighten up, my beast itching to come out and challenge him.
He’s too much. Ever since he bought this notorious biker bar, with his crazy plan to transform it into a ‘modern’ music venue, I’ve been stuck here, helping him.
He turns to face me, and I see his own beast pushing up beneath his lean, angular features. “You really screwed up the other day.”
“Huh?” I literally have no idea what he’s talking about.
“That publicity stunt I set up.”
I stare at him for several beats. “You set up that dumb stunt with Paige?” I stare at my grizzled father in disbelief, rage pouring through me like molten lava.
“Coulda blown up on Insta. If it wasn’t for you.”
I shake my head violently. “On what?”
“Instagram, son. All the kids are into it nowadays.” He shakes his own head. “It’s all about making an impact.”
I unleash a wild roar and charge at him. “Not. That. Kind. Of Impact. You want to market this as a place where the owner’s son abuses women?”
He goes still, and I can almost see the cogs of his brain turning. “Paige was down with it.”
I snarl through my teeth. “I’m sorry to say that chick is down with anything that means she get attention.” I unleash a groan of desperation. “That’s not how things work nowadays.”
“The promo guy told me there’s a few fighting celebs out there. Never did their careers any harm. Helped ‘em take off, in fact.”
I slap my hand against my forehead. “Dad, we are not the Kardashians. We’re trying to build a reputable music business here. This is the wrong type of publicity—”
I break off. I’m clenching my fists so tight, they hurt. I feel like punching a wall.
I’m okay with the fact that this place is my business now.
The fact is, I needed something. I crashed hard after everything that happened at high school.
Unlike my buddies, I could’ve still gone to a good college—I started working hard and I got the grades.
But I didn’t go. I lost my place in the world, and I ended up drifting for a few years.
My dad was so disappointed in me. He’d grown up a lone wolf, kicked out of his own pack for some political bullshit I’ve never understood, and we were vulnerable, unprotected.
He was so proud of me for being the first one in our bloodline to have college aspirations.
And I think he’s never forgiven me for throwing it all away.
Which is why I’ve got to make a success of this darn bar.
My dad’s idea to invest his life savings in an entertainment venue was a good one. I just wished he’d consulted me before he decided to purchase a notorious biker bar, with a ready-made clientele, who aren’t taking kindly to the news that the place is under new management.
We’ve had to deal with a lot of shit since we’ve opened.
A biker gang threatening to burn the place down if we don’t turn it back to ‘how it used to be’.
AKA, the stinking pile of crap that they unofficially made their clubhouse.
Complete with a rancid cellar spattered with bloodstains. I can’t even—
“You could be big, kid. You should see the way everyone watches you when you’re up on stage.”
I groan. We’ve had this conversation at least ten times before. “I’m not a rockstar, dad. I’m just helping out until you hire a house band.”
“Won’t be as good as you.”
“Dad, I don’t even write my own songs.” I give a dismissive grunt and yank the keg off the ground again. I guess I’ve got an okay voice, and I enjoy singing other people’s stuff, but that’s all. I’ve ever been good at composing shit. Never wanted to.
“You could get someone to help—”
“Enough!” I roar.
I’m full to the brim with his crazy ideas. If I hear one more, I might explode.
“What’s the matter with you? Why you so wound up?” Dad comes up behind me.
“I’m not,” I snap.
But he’s right.
I am.
Of course, I am.
I was lucky enough to have met my mate at high school. And instead of claiming her, I bullied her and made her life a misery.
We were such assholes.
I was young and dumb, and that’s no excuse at all.
Back in those days, my shifter buddies and I were kings of the school, and we knew it.
All the other kids worshipped us. The guys wanted to be us; the girls wanted to screw us.
And, being the dumb teenagers we were, we let it go to our heads.
Our football team was unbeatable. We totally crushed all the other schools in the state.
All of us had college sports scholarships waiting for us.
And all of us were failing at school. We were too busy reveling in all the adulation.
Training, going to parties, dating girls.
School was just a pain in our asses, because we all knew that we weren’t planning to work with our brains.
We were gonna be college football stars, then national champions.
Then my buddy Jeff, hit on the great idea of getting the other kids to do our work for us.
It was a great solution—at least at first. We paid them.
Well, Jeff did because his parents were loaded.
The school was in a deprived area, and a lot of those poor nerdy kids needed the money.
My brain was small, my conscience was clear.
And call me dumb, because I really was, but I had no idea that some of the kids were being bullied into working more than they wanted to.
Then everything fell apart. One brave kid blew the whistle on all the cheating, and for a bunch of us, our football dreams were over. Jeff—identified as the ringleader—was kicked out of school. Most of the other guys were allowed to stay, but they kept failing and they lost their college places.
And of course, they were mad as hell—not at themselves, though. Instead, they took it out on Elinor.
I wasn’t one of the kids who did bad stuff to her. But I didn’t do anything to stop them. And I know that makes me as guilty as they are. That’s the burden I have to carry.
I’d do anything to take it all back.
To remove the pain from her eyes.
But how can I do that when I’m the one who put it there?
I don’t deserve Elinor.
She’s mine. I feel it with every nerve in my body. But that hatred on her face, when she told me how she knew me, cut me to the quick.
I’ve lost the right to call her my mate.
I’ll never be able to claim her.
I can’t stay away from her, though.
Every day, I drive back to Perdue Town. Hide in the shadows, watching her working in the bar, or going home to her apartment, or meeting up with her friends. I’m so in awe of what she’s made of herself. Of the cool, sassy chick she’s blossomed into.
I should quit doing this.
All I’m doing is making my animal worse. Firing its longing for her.
But maybe this is what I deserve—eternal torment.
I vow I’ll protect her forever, even if I can’t make her mine.