19. Shane
Chapter 19
Shane
“P retty girl you got there, McKinley,” the stranger prods at my back when we stand on the sidewalk.
I’m struggling to keep my anger leashed.
It’s early evening and the sidewalks are full of pedestrians; I don’t want to attract more attention than we already do. Not to mention the fact that Kaycia is likely watching through the tinted glass of the store. The last thing she needs to see is me lose control. Stupid fucking idea to walk her down here, but I wasn’t sure if something exactly like this might happen and I couldn’t risk her being approached alone.
“Who are you?” I ask the unknown shifter. He fits the description of the guy Raquel described. His scent is all wolf.
“Just a friend of the Ross pack. You’ve been off the map a while, McKinley. Imagine my surprise when I scented you at some dive this weekend with a falcon, a raccoon, and a pretty human all over you.”
The name of my family’s neighboring pack sends ice down my spine. I’ve kept a low profile for years, why is this happening now? How did they find me? But the mention of Kaycia boils away the fear. The threat in his voice is implied, making my urge to protect her seethe.
“Leave her out of this,” I snarl through my teeth. “I paid for what happened. The scales are even.” The stranger's eyes flick down to the deep scar on my forearm. It’s a constant reminder of exactly how I paid. An ugly smile spreads across his face.
“We’ll see about that. You’ve been away a long time. Leadership has changed. The new alpha will be interested to know you’re playing house in the big city?—”
Before he can finish his sentence, my hand is around his throat, squeezing as I shove his back against the glass of the storefront. Rage surges through my veins as I whisper through my teeth. “Leave her the fuck alone, do you understand? You heard what happened when I lost control before. I’m warning you; you don’t want to know what I can do now that I have control. Do you understand? ”
I slam his back against the glass again, causing the pedestrians to gasp and step away, muttering and giving us a wide berth. The owner of the grocery comes outside with threats on his lips and a phone in his hand.
“Shane, what are you doing? Stop!” Kaycia’s voice cuts through the haze of fury and I cringe at my loss of control, releasing the stranger.
“That’s right. Good pup. Listen to your girl,” the shifter condescends with a chuckle. My skin crawls as he takes a deep inhale. To anyone else he’s catching his breath, but I know he’s catching her scent.
Our scent.
Because it is ours now, from our embrace, our hand-holding, everything.
“I’m serious. I paid my dues, leave us the fuck alone.”
“Duly noted,” he says, sneering at Kaycia before turning and walking away down the street.
Watching him retreat, I wait until he rounds the corner before grabbing Kaycia’s hand and tugging her in the opposite direction toward our building, leaving her basket of groceries abandoned in the store. I should slow down. Kaycia’s practically scurrying at my side to keep up as I try to steady my breathing and arrange my thoughts, but I want to put as much distance between her and the other wolf as I can. She remains painfully quiet for the duration of our walk and I avoid making eye contact with her. I’m embarrassed that she saw me lose my temper, but it doesn’t negate the fact that I’d do whatever I must to protect her. Even if it drives her away.
“Shane? Is everything okay?” Kaycia asks when we reach our front stoop.
“No,” I finally answer. “I’m sorry.”
“Who was that?” She sounds scared. She probably looks scared, too. But I can’t muster up the courage to look at her. This is all my fault.
“I don’t know,” I reply, pulling my keys from my pocket. “But he knew me.”
“Is it about what you told me? The people who are still mad about your past?”
“Something like that.” I stick my key in the lock, still not able to face her.
“Nope,” Kaycia says as her small hand tugs at the fabric of my shirt. “You are not getting out of this that easily.” When I don’t reply, she grabs my bicep with a tight grip, forcing me to turn toward her. “You don’t get to be sweet and romantic one minute, almost strangling a guy in the street the next, and then pretending it didn’t happen without talking to me, okay? If you’re one of those moody bad boys I’m going to need you to tell me now, because I do not have time for emotional whiplash.”
Sighing, I finally look down at her. A laugh bubbles up involuntarily at the stubborn expression on her pretty face.
“Tell me what’s up because I’m kind of pissed I won’t have enough coffee creamer in the morning.” Her hands are on her hips as she purses her lips at me and I finally do chuckle. She looks as though she might actually stomp her foot with frustration.
“I am sorry, Kaycia. He knows the people I told you about. He was the one at the bar Saturday night and recognized me. I’m worried he’s reported my location to them, and when he mentioned you, I lost my cool.” I can’t help myself from affectionately running my thumb across her cheekbone, the need to touch and soothe her overriding the knowledge that she’s irritated with me. “I’m sorry about ruining your grocery trip, but no one is going to threaten my girl or my friends.”
“Which am I?”
“What?”
“Am I your girl, or your friend?” Her expression softens a bit and some of the tension falls away as she cocks her head with a wry smile.
“I mean, I’ve certainly never done the things we did this weekend with Quel, J, or Max, so I guess that puts you firmly in the first category,” I reply, running the same thumb over her pouty lower lip. “If I didn’t just scare you away.”
“You were definitely scary, but—gods I hate to admit this—it may have made you even hotter.” She quickly adds, looking up at the ceiling as if she’s embarrassed, “Don’t you dare let that go to your head.”
A little chuckle escapes me, but it dies on my lips when she asks, “Am I in danger though? Was that just posturing or is that guy seriously someone I need to be worried about?”
A tremor travels over her and I realize how much she’s been hiding her emotions on the walk home. Her scent has shifted, bitter fear tainting her usual sweetness. She’s scared. I pull her tight, opening my door and pulling her inside.
“Look, I hope nothing comes of it,” I begin once she’s sitting on the couch. “But I heard your mom mention pepper spray on the phone the other day. Carry it with you and keep your eyes open. Let me know if you notice anyone suspicious.”
“Okay,” she whispers, curling her legs under her.
“Let’s do dinner in on Wednesday, okay? I’ll have everything ready; you bring the wine. I can help you with the gallery stuff you needed over the weekend. I have some work I have to get done at the shop this week, but if you’re willing, I can take you somewhere next weekend. Get out of town for a little bit and see if things settle?”
“Deal,” she replies, lighting up a bit at the prospect.