Chapter 8
Elinor
Ipull up in the parking lot of JC’s, switch off the engine and stare at the sprawling wooden building. My stomach is in a knot, and I’m tingling all over.
I’m only doing this because I need the money.
Liar.
“Shush.”
My crow has suddenly started speaking, and there’s no stopping her now.
I do need the money. Carolyn has been admitted to a special shifter facility for observation—which is real good news.
It means they’re taking her health problems seriously.
But it’s not cheap. I need to earn as much as I can, and ideally, that will mean quitting my job at Sinner’s and finding someone to take my place while I work here fulltime.
If I can stand to work for Blake.
And that’s a big if.
It took a lot for me to come here today.
I still don’t know if I’m making a huge mistake.
How could you? the child in me whispers.
After all they put you through.
After all the distance you put between your life in Perdue and your past?
But he said he was sorry.
That he’ll do anything to make it up to you.
He was young and dumb.
Easily led, like teenagers are.
Neither of us are the same people anymore.
I need to put the past behind me and act like the mature professional I am.
Caw! my crow interrupts.
Because that’s not the whole truth.
I know I can be professional when I need to be.
But that’s not all it is.
No. The main reason why I’m sitting here, glued to my car seat, is because my panties are wet at the thought of seeing Blake again.
At the thought he might kiss me.
Try to do more than kiss me.
Would it be so bad to lose my virgin—?
“Yes it would!” I yell into the car’s interior.
Twenty-three years old, and I’ve never been touched. Never been kissed until last night. You really want your first time to be with your old bully?
Even if he is the hottest guy in the whole world?
Not. Happening.
I’m going to go work for him—so long as he treats me right—collect my paycheck, and that’s all.
I grab my purse, bound out of the car and slam the door behind me.
“You came.” He steps out from the shadow of the building so quick I wonder if he’s been watching me while I was sitting in the car. Probably thinking you’re a freak.
Stop.
He doesn’t think you’re a freak.
He said you’re badass. And sexy.
“Said I would.” I shrug, trying to hide the fact that my heart is pounding and I’m shaking like a leaf.
“I’m glad.” He flashes a big, warm smile. The kind of smile that used to make my knees weak.
Still does, truth be told.
“Let me show you around and tell you about the business.”
It’s just after six p.m., and JC’s is mostly empty, just a few grizzled old bikers sitting around at low tables.
Now I’m not so distracted, I see that the interior has been totally renovated.
The bar space is cozy, while the performance area is in dark colors, industrial-style. Perfect for a music venue.
“The old clientele.” Blake rolls his eyes toward the bikers. “Dad bought this place up a year ago. It was a notorious biker venue. Practically a clubhouse for the Dirt Hogs.”
“I know,” I tell him. “I did a bunch of research today, when it was quiet at Sinner’s.”
He nods, looking impressed. “Twenty-seven murders, a full-on riot and countless arrests to its name. And even that wasn’t a deterrent to my dad.”
He sighs, and I throw him a questioning glance.
“When my business-savvy old man saw this place advertised cheap, he thought he was getting the bargain of the decade. Didn’t occur to him it might come with strings attached. Like a whole biker gang.”
“You couldn’t talk him out of it?”
“Nope. First I heard about it was when he was showing me the deeds. He’s spontaneous like that.” He stops walking and stares blankly at the stage. “At least, he has been ever since we lost my mom.”
His mom died?
And he’s still grieving, I realize with a jolt. The feeling is so raw inside him, I can almost taste it. My instinct is to throw my arms around him, hug away his pain.
“I’m sorry,” I say instead.
He’s silent for a long, long time. Then he begins to speak, in a voice so low I have to lean in to catch his words.
“I was a freshman at high school. My dad was supposed to collect mom from her friend’s birthday party, but he forgot, because he was watching the Superbowl. She called a taxi instead. The driver was drunk. He got into a crash and—” He breaks off, his chest rising and falling.
“Before that, we were just a regular American family. Afterward—” He throws his hands out.
“My dad’s been wracked with guilt ever since.
He doesn’t drink, thank goodness. But he often seems like he’s lost the plot.
Like a big chunk of his brain died that day.
My older sister dropped out of college. She’s been in rehab three times already.
While I—I turned into a dick.” He’s staring at the floor, hands shoved into his pockets.
“All that time… when my buddies and I were ‘kings’ of the school. While I was being Mr Popular, none of my so-called friends knew my mom had died. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them.
I suspected they wouldn’t give a shit, and I think that scared me more than anything.
While my dad was having a breakdown and my sister wasn’t around, those guys became my fucked-up family.
But it was all so superficial. All such bullshit. I wish I could take it all back—”
He breaks off, and the eyes that meet mine at last are stunned. Shellshocked.
“I’m sorry—you’re the first person from high school that I’ve told.”
I blink several times, trying to square my old impression of him as the popular guy with the perfect life, with this picture of a lonely, grieving teen.
“I’m so sorry, Blake,” I say. “That’s awful. I had no idea you were suffering.”
He lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Maybe no more than other kids. And I was lucky that I was good at football. That meant I got instant popularity. Otherwise, I would’ve been one of those lonely kids who never talked to anyone. The ones who got picked on.” Shame flickers in his eyes.
“Didn’t hurt that you were good-looking, either,” I say, thinking of all those girls who used to hang off his arm.
A wry smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “You think I’m good-looking?”
I roll my eyes. “Everyone thinks you’re good-looking, trust me. Every girl you pass gets whiplash checking you out.”
His pale gaze locks onto mine, and his smile broadens. “Yours is the only opinion I’m interested in.”
My heart flips.
Then I’m mad at myself for being flattered, all over again. “Am I… like some kind of conquest for you or something?” I blurt out. “You’ve screwed all the pretty girls. Now you want to screw the weird chick, before you settle down with the homecoming queen and make some beautiful babies together?”
Damn, my voice is getting all squawky again. Because I’m pretty sure I’ve hit the nail on the head and I really wish I hadn’t.
“No!” His voice is so loud I jump. “You’re mine, Elinor. My mate.” He reaches for my hands. When our fingertips meet, it feels like electricity is crackling between us. I yank my hands away and stuff them under my armpits, like a child.
“Don’t you feel it?” he growls, low and throaty.
Crap. I wish his voice didn’t have that habit of vibrating right through me. My whole body feels like it’s combusting right now. I feel hot and flustered and desperate to flee.
“I don’t feel anything,” I lie. “That thing in the bathroom… it shouldn’t have happened. From now on, it’s just going to be business between us.”
He recoils, hurt chasing across his handsome features. He inhales, his big chest swelling. Then he lets the breath out slowly.
“I understand. I know I hurt you a lot back in high school, and I’ve got a lot of making up to do. But I’m not going to give up on you, Elinor. You’re my mate. And when I’ve claimed you, I’m going to spend my life making you the happiest woman alive.”
I stare at him in stunned silence, trying to get his words to fit into my poor brain.
He thinks I’m his mate.
Because his wolf has chosen me?
Which is a real weird coincidence, because my little crow is also insisting that he’s my mate.
I believe in fated mates, of course. All shifters do. To the human world, it seems like something hokey. I had to spend a long time convincing my human friend, Ava, that it was normal. But to us, it’s as basic as the fact that having sex leads to babies.
But Blake choosing me?
It just seems… unlikely. Why the hell would his wolf choose someone weird and awkward and squawky and elbowy like me, when it could choose a supermodel?
“Maybe you think I’m something different,” I manage to croak out. “But you’ll go back to your cheerleaders when you get sick of me.”
“No.” He shakes his head with great confidence. “Not gonna happen. When a wolf chooses its mate, it mates for life.”
I’m trying to be cool and unflustered, but tingles are running through me, and I’m kind of entertaining the thought of being this wolf’s mate. How will his friends react when they see me on his arm? I’m sure their eyes will just about fall out of their heads.
“What does your wolf like about me?” I demand.
A grin spreads across his face. “You’re beautiful and cool and smart and edgy and… I had a dream about you last night.”
“W-what?” I shake my head at the sudden tangent.
He frowns in that way that makes him look thoughtful and too sexy for his own good. “It was a memory, actually. But I, like, dreamed it. I was walking past you in the hall at school, and… and—” He breaks off.
A dart of unease goes through me. “And what?”
He swipes at his hair. “Forget it. It was nothing.”
I fold my arms. “Now you’ve put this thought in my head, you’re going to tell me, Blake Waldgrave.”
“You were being bullied. Again. Some kids put something in your locker.”
My stomach tightens. “Was it porn?”
“Yup.” He can’t meet my eye.
“Not a hard guess, since it was always porn.”
“I never did anything like that to you, Elinor. You’ve got to believe me.”