Chapter 5 #2
The call wasn’t on speaker, but my werewolf ears had no trouble hearing both sides of the conversation clearly—which Alice probably knew.
“Hey, Pete,” Alice said. “It’s Alice.”
“Hey, girl.” His voice warmed considerably. “You still coming in to see us this evening?”
“I don’t think I can make it in,” she said with a sigh. “I had a little…accident.”
The background noise faded as if Pete had stepped into another area. “Alice, are you okay? You sound like you’re in bad shape.”
“I’m okay,” she said automatically.
My wolf’s low snarl escaped my own mouth.
“I will be okay,” she amended, as if my growl had made her rethink her reply. “But I’m not going anywhere tonight. Please extend my apologies to Charles. I’d like to reschedule for tomorrow night, if I can.”
“Should I ask Adri to come over and help you?” Pete asked.
She went quiet, clearly torn on how to answer. “I’m not alone,” she said finally. “Someone is here.”
After a beat, Pete asked, “Who’s with you? The werewolf?”
Damned Vampire Court. Always watching. Plotting. Manipulating. Taking. And never caring who they hurt or how badly.
Alice bristled too. “Yes. What the hell, Pete? Are you keeping tabs on me now?”
“I’m not keeping tabs on you,” he said, which was a transparent lie. “We were concerned when you told Bryan you’d been dropped off, but Maclin’s car was still in your driveway when we came by with your car. Bryan checked the house, but when everything was quiet, we assumed you’d invited him in.”
Alice was fuming. “Whether or not I invited him in is none of Bryan’s business, or yours,” she snapped. “Stay out of my personal life.”
“Okay, Alice.” Pete tried to sound contrite, but I didn’t buy it. “I’ll tell Bryan you won’t be in tonight, and he’ll let you know when Mr. Vaughan will be available.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice frosty.
“Good night,” he said.
Alice dropped her phone on the bed and closed her eyes. The conversation had clearly exhausted her.
But before I could get back under the covers to comfort and warm her, she startled me by not only opening her eyes but forcing herself to sit up, her jaw clenched so she didn’t make a sound.
She met my gaze, her eyes fierce despite how much she was trembling. “Out of the bed.”
Taken aback, I tried to figure out how to persuade her to lie back down and rest.
She flapped her hand at me. “Scoot. Off.”
Confused, I rose. Teeth gritted, she began inching her way toward the side of the bed. She was trying to get up.
She’d damn near died hours ago, and she was still in terrible condition, and she was trying to get up.
“Stay there,” I said, knowing I sounded too forceful but unable to contain either my concern or anger. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll get it.”
She shooed me away again. “I need to get up. I can’t just lie here.”
“Why not?” Malcolm demanded. “Alice, for crying out loud—”
“Please don’t try to get up,” I interjected. “You’re not recovered enough yet to be trying to walk around.”
Her eyes flashed with anger and determination. “Stop. Just stop, both of you.”
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and braced herself on her hands. The color drained from her face and she swayed.
“Alice, for God’s sake,” I said, ready to catch her if she passed out.
She glared at me, her expression as fierce as a werewolf’s. My wolf liked it very much even if we were on the receiving end of her angry stare.
“I want to go home,” she stated. “Are the circles still on the floor?”
“Yes,” Malcolm said.
“I need to clean those up. Somebody get me a wet towel.” She started to put her feet on the floor.
“Stay on the bed,” I said, then softened my tone. “Please. I’ll clean up your circles.”
Thankfully, she stopped trying to get up. I hurried to the bathroom, which was next to this bedroom and across from Natalie’s room.
I found clean towels and ran one under hot water at the sink as I took a minute to think.
Alice had declined every offer of help I’d made this morning when she woke still suffering from injuries she’d sustained the day before. And even now she didn’t want my help to get through this.
Alice was a survivor. Hyper-independence was a trauma response. I’d seen it in abused werewolves enough times to recognize the signs.
Someday, if and when she was ready to tell me, I’d find out who’d done this to Alice. I’d help her settle the score. In the meantime, I needed to listen and care for her. Offer comfort and protection on her terms, not mine.
Easier said than done because my instincts wanted me to do so much more than that. But I was a man, not a wolf driven by instincts alone.
When I returned to the bedroom with the towels, Alice and Malcolm were talking quietly. And she was still sitting on the side of the bed and not trying to stand, which was a relief.
I crouched and began cleaning up the chalk markings on the floor with the wet towel.
“What kind of shape is Natalie in?” Alice asked.
“She’s fine,” Malcolm said. “She’s been out since I knocked her out.”
“Shit.” Alice sighed. “She’s going to be a mess. I’ll have to leave her a note again and hope she’s calm enough in the morning that I can talk to her. She’ll probably think she killed me.”
I finished cleaning the floor and wiped it down with the dry towel. I draped both towels over the shower rod and returned in time to see Alice trying to stand. I got to her side just as her knees gave out.
I caught her as she fell. She looked up at me, her eyes glassy. “I’m okay,” she said, her voice shaky. “Give me a minute.”
I’m okay.
How many times had I heard one of the wolves in my pack who’d survived a brutal alpha say that when they were anything but?
I touched her face with just my fingertips, wishing I could wrap her in my arms and keep her warm and safe, and wishing she wanted that too.
“You’re not okay,” I said quietly. “I can see how badly you’re hurt. There’s nothing wrong with letting others help you.”
She didn’t believe me. Not at all. Her teeth clenched and her expression turned guarded. And she moved away from my gentle touch.
That was all right. She didn’t have to believe me right now. Someday she might, if I didn’t screw this up. If she’d give me a chance to show her she didn’t have to face everything alone.
She shrugged me off and wobbled to the nightstand, steadying herself with one hand on the bed. She found a notepad and a pen and scrawled a note:
Good morning. Don’t worry and don’t panic—I’m fine. Give me a call when you’re up. Alice.
She was not fine. Not okay and not fine. But I understood why she’d want others to think so.
“Can you grab my bag and my phone?” she asked.
I did, and scooped up the pile of her burned clothes too. I crammed her ruined clothing into her bag and slung it over my shoulder so I had my hands free.
Ready to catch her if she started to fall, I followed Alice as she shuffled out of the bedroom and down the hall.
I left her leaning against the wall just long enough to put the note on Natalie’s nightstand.
Alice’s client was still sound asleep. I touched her shoulder and offered a few moments of warm comfort before rejoining Alice in the hall.
How she made it to the front door without falling, I had no idea. Pure stubbornness, probably. But she couldn’t expect to drive herself home, could she?
We stepped out onto the porch. I shut the front door behind us. The wards would keep Natalie safe.
For a few beats, Alice looked over the quiet street as she swayed on her feet. Was she thinking about what had transpired today in this house? Debating what to do next?
“Alice?” I prompted.
“Yeah?” Her voice was wispy. And when she glanced at me, I didn’t think she really saw me. I rested my hand on her lower back to steady her.
“I’ll drive you home in your car,” I said. “If that’s all right.”
Her reply was barely audible. “Okay.”
“Okay?” I repeated, just be sure I’d heard her right.
Alice swayed again. “I think you’d better—”
She crumpled.
I scooped her up well before she hit the concrete and cradled her in my arms. She’d exhausted herself walking to the door rather than let me carry her. At least she was breathing normally and her pulse was steady.
“Malcolm?” I asked.
No answer.
Come to think of it, I hadn’t felt his telltale chill since I’d hung up the dirty towels. I’d been too focused on Alice to notice. Where the hell he would have gone, I had no idea, and no one had told me he was leaving.
Den, my wolf growled, his eyes glowing brightly. Mate will be safe in den.
I wanted to take Alice to my home too, but Malcolm had said she needed the healing spells she kept at her house. So that was where we’d go.
Just like with the werewolves who’d joined my pack after escaping abuse in their former pack, I’d need to try to earn her trust slowly, one kind word and act at a time, and show her I expected nothing in return and nothing I did came with strings attached.
For that reason, instead of loading Alice into my car, I unlocked hers and put her in the passenger seat.
I belted her in, leaned the seat back, and tucked a rolled-up sweatshirt I found in her trunk under her neck to steady her head.
I took off my Maclin Security polo shirt and draped it over her as a makeshift blanket.
In case I needed toiletries and a change of clothes, I grabbed my duffel bag out of my car and tossed it into Alice’s trunk.
And then I drove as fast as I could across town to Alice’s house, playing a classic rock channel quietly on the car stereo and cradling her hand in mine.