Chapter Nine
Anathea
Carter walked me home. If I wasn’t so numb and at the same time wired, I might’ve enjoyed the time with him.
And I did as much as I could. He comforted me when I needed it. Held me in a way I didn’t think I had ever been held. Didn’t pull away or try to cut off the connection.
He was there.
Too bad my thoughts kept drifting to the what-ifs.
Even though he asked me to go inside and lock the door, after I heard his footsteps on the stairs, I went back outside and let myself pretend I was an omega who had just gone on a date with one of the sexiest and most caring men I’d ever met.
And none of that took into consideration his appearance.
It was the way he took control of the situation.
His movements and words purposeful. His tone sincere.
His whole demeanor made him attractive. Didn’t hurt that his scent, earthy and wild at the same time, grounded me. I was so calm with him, I could’ve fallen asleep and forgotten the world existed.
A little part of me deflated once he was out of sight.
“That’s a dreamy look you’ve got, Thea.” The high-pitched voice of my landlord cut into my thoughts. She noticed everything. One week, I came home with only one grocery bag, and she asked me if I needed money for food. Nosey but kind.
The next morning, I had four bags of groceries at my doorstep, but she swore she had no idea where they came from. Blamed it on a fairy godmother. More like a fairy landlord.
“You’re making up stories, Dorothy.”
“I am not. I had the same look once too.”
I snorted. “How do you know? You can’t see your own face.”
One of the neighbors moved a curtain aside and waved at me. I really did have the best neighbors. Sometimes Dorothy had coffee and donuts in her apartment for all the residents on Saturday mornings.
“You know me, honey. I looked in the mirror. I’m coming up. We don’t want to wake the neighbors.”
We already had, but I let it go. Once Dorothy got something in her head, there was no shaking the notion out. I quelled a smile as she walked up the stairs. Cigarillo smoke rising in the air. Leopard-print caftan catching the yellow security lights.
“You got coffee?” she asked as she neared.
“Not tonight. I’ll never sleep.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Sleep is overrated. So, was that a date?”
“No. He walked me home.”
Mimicking my stance, she leaned onto the railing. Her cigarillos smelled like cherry cobbler. “In my day, that was practically a proposal.”
“He’s a firefighter,” I added, knowing it would spice up her insinuations.
“That doesn’t surprise me. And the view. That’s a lot of cake that boy is carrying around.”
I laughed hard and loud and, other than Carter’s care, it was the best medicine of the night. “What? Why are you ogling that man’s ass? And who taught you to say cake like that?”
She shrugged. “I’m on the TokTik. I know what’s going on. Besides, how could you not notice?”
I didn’t answer, but I had noticed. Carter had a whole bakery in those pants.
“Dorothy, I think my old pack is after me,” I admitted. I’d told her some things but not a lot of details.
“You have pictures? How do I know who I’m looking out for?”
How could anyone not love this woman? She was a girl’s girl. “No. Just let me know if anyone asks questions or is hanging out around my apartment?”
She nodded. “I’m on the watch, honey. You want to spend the nights at my place for a while? My couch is pretty comfy.” She would know. Most of the time, if I went over to watch a movie or binge our favorite streams, she was asleep in the first ten minutes.
“Thank you, but I think I’m okay. You’re the best.”
Shrugging her shoulder, she made a noise. “Meh, I’m okay. I’ll let you go to sleep, but these eyes don’t miss anything. I’m on the case.”
“Good night, Dorothy.”
I went inside and tried to busy myself with mundane things until I crawled into bed and fell asleep a little while later.
A noise woke me, making me sit up in the bed, hands already balled into fists. My wolf growled inside me, on full alert.
It sounded like scratching or something moving around outside. Impossible, since I was on the second floor, but fear gripped me and made me a statue.
My survival instinct kicking in, I eyed my phone on my bedside table.
Carter’s pack’s numbers were input there. I could call one of them. Or all of them.
Goddess, what would they think of me, calling in the middle of the night like a scaredy-wolf?
Another scrape against the window.
Oh, who cared what they thought?
I dialed Carter’s number and sent a prayer to the goddess that it wasn’t a mistake.