5. James
James
I stared at the numbers printed on my paycheck, the same ones I saw every month. Nothing surprising. Nothing new.
Just the usual reminder of how tightly the world could keep its boot on your throat without crushing you all at once.
Just pressing, pressing, pressing until you forgot what it felt like to breathe without effort.
My thumb hovered over the calculator app on my phone. I shouldn’t do it. I already knew what the math would say. But the need to see it anyway overpowered reason.
Rent. Utilities. Loan payment to Avery.
The screen blinked back at me with a total that made my stomach curl. I felt that quiet, sinking dread settle in my chest again. I wouldn’t starve. Not technically. But it was another ramen month.
Another stretch of evenings pretending hot water and seasoning packets were fine dining. Another test of how many ways I could dress up instant noodles before losing my mind.
And the worst part? I was used to it.
"Hey, we’re hitting the bar after close,” Cyrus said, popping his head into the back with that easy, golden grin of his. “You in?”
I glanced up, smiled like my heart wasn’t hanging by a thread. “Think I’ll sit this one out.”
Again.
Cyrus tilted his head. “You sure? You’ve skipped the last few. You good?”
“Just tired,” I lied. “Long shift. I need a shower and like… six hours of sleep.”
He didn’t look convinced, but nodded. “Your loss. Rowan’s buying the first round.”
I chuckled weakly and shoved the paycheck into my pocket. It felt like a cruel joke. I worked full-time in a bakery that made thousands a month in sugar and butter, and I couldn’t afford a decent dinner.
Callum was near the front, finishing up the day’s receipts. When he saw me moving for the door, his gaze sharpened.
“James.”
I stiffened. “Yeah?”
“You okay?” Callum asked.
That simple question shouldn’t have unraveled me. But it did. The quiet kindness in his voice made my throat tighten.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. Too quickly. “Really. Just tired.”
He frowned. That slow, thoughtful Callum kind of frown that meant he knew I was lying but wasn’t going to press unless I invited him in.
“Alright,” he said. “Get some rest.”
I nodded, ducking my head and practically fled before he could read any more truths in my face. I hated how good he was at that. Seeing people. Seeing me.
By the time I stepped into the evening air, the sky had bruised into deep violet. A few stubborn stars had started to peek through the clouds. Cool, crisp Sugarpaw air filled my lungs. Normally it helped.
Tonight, it just made me feel small.
Behind me, laughter trailed out from the bakery. My pack. My family. And I was walking away from them. Again.
I didn’t really want to go back to my apartment.
The thought of stepping into that tiny, silent space, locking all five locks, and trying to convince myself that stale cereal counted as dinner made my skin itch.
It felt like suffocating in a space that was supposed to be safe. I debated swinging by Bear and Bun instead. Not because I needed pastries. But maybe… Rafael would still be there.
Not that we were friends. Not really.
We’d had conversations. Weird, awkward, borderline hostile at times. He still scowled at me like I was some kind of flour-coated nuisance. Still called me a menace like it was my name.
But something had changed. Lately, his glares didn’t hold as much heat. His voice had gentled, just a little. Like he didn’t hate me completely.
I’d seen it. The flicker in his eyes when I laughed. The moment of hesitation when I touched his arm. The way his bear seemed to lean closer, even when his mouth said go away.
Maybe if I saw him now, I could say something. Or maybe I just wanted to see someone who didn’t know how wrecked I was inside.
I turned the corner, my feet guiding me automatically. The lights inside Bear and Bun glowed warm through the window. Homey. Comforting. A contrast to the hollowness in my chest.
Through the glass, I spotted Rafael, with broom in hand, methodically sweeping the floor. His broad back was turned, hunched slightly like the weight of the world lived between his shoulders.
He hadn’t seen me. He looked tired. Heavy. And I stood there, watching him for a beat too long. Then I turned and kept walking.
What would I even say? Hi, I’m financially screwed and emotionally unraveling. Want to get a coffee and talk about how I’m possibly being stalked by a loan shark?
Yeah. That’d go well.
I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket, pulling it tighter around me. The wind had picked up, curling around my legs like fingers. Cold. Sharp.
That was when I felt it.
A shift. Not from the wind, but from instinct. From my wolf. Someone was watching me. I stopped walking. My heart skipped, then slammed against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
Slowly, I turned my head. Empty street. No cars. No footsteps. No obvious movement in the shadows. But the air was wrong.
Thick. Humming. Like it was holding its breath.
I swallowed hard and picked up my pace. My legs moved faster, even though I told myself I was being paranoid. Sugarpaw Springs was safe. That’s what people said. That’s what I told myself every day.
But Avery’s reach was long, and he loved to remind me. Like the envelope stuffed under my door like it belonged there.
Like the voicemail from a blocked number where no one spoke but I could hear breathing.
Like the time my favorite hoodie disappeared from my laundry line and reappeared on my doormat. It was slashed clean down the middle.
Just reminders.
I see you. You owe me.
And I was still paying. Every single month.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, tense and low, ears flattened back. The scent hit me next. Cheap cologne, sweat, and a whiff of something acrid, chemical.
Not local. Not pack. Not safe. I spun around.
The man stepped out from behind a utility pole like he’d peeled himself from the darkness. Big. Broad. Ugly scar cutting through one brow.
He was a shifter, all right. Not a wolf. Something heavier, more brute-force than finesse. He looked at me like I was something he'd scrape off his boot.
“Avery says you’re late,” he said.
My throat went dry. “I—I’m about to transfer it tonight. I have the money.”
He tilted his head, predator-smooth. “Funny. That’s what you said last time.”
My pulse spiked. My wolf itched to shift, to bolt, but we both knew I wouldn’t make it five steps. Not against him. Not alone.
“I told Avery I’d need until the end of the month,” I said. My voice trembled, and I hated it. “I’ve never missed a payment.”
“Doesn’t matter.” The guy stepped closer. “He’s losing patience.” His fists flexed, slow and deliberate. “And I’ve been told to remind you what happens when Avery loses patience.”
My back hit the brick wall behind me. Cold and unmoving. No escape.
I knew this part. The part where he threw a punch, maybe just hard enough to bruise, maybe enough to bleed. Maybe more. A mesSean Avery liked to send in bruises and cracked ribs.
My hands curled into fists, even as they shook. Then, a low growl rolled through the alley. Deep. Guttural. Bone-deep.
The kind of growl that made your bones vibrate and your instincts scream run. Avery’s enforcer stilled. I turned, already knowing who it was.
Rafael.
He walked in like a storm on legs, broad and steady, eyes locked on the goon. His jaw was clenched tight, and there was a tension in his shoulders that said barely leashed.
His bear was close, closer than I’d ever felt it. Protective. Furious. The air around him crackled, saturated with raw energy.
The goon’s bravado faltered. “This doesn’t concern you, bear.”
Rafael didn’t say a word. Just kept walking until he was in front of me, positioning his body so I was entirely behind him. His stance wide, grounded.
His scent wrapped around me, rich and warm and familiar, pushing back the chemical stench of the goon. Another growl vibrated from Rafael’s chest.
It was a promise. One I believed with every hair on my body.
“This your boyfriend?” the goon sneered, but the mockery in his voice didn’t quite reach his eyes. They were wary now. Nervous.
Rafael didn’t flinch. His voice came out quiet. Deadly. “If you ever touch him, I’ll make sure whoever sent you gets what’s left of you in a box.”
The guy turned pale. No more swagger. Just a fast retreat into the dark, like he couldn’t get away fast enough. And then he was gone.
I didn’t realize how much I was shaking until Rafael turned to face me.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I—yeah.” I nodded too fast. “I think so.” My voice was paper-thin.
“You’re trembling.”
“Of course I’m trembling. That guy looked like he eats bricks for breakfast.”
Rafael’s mouth ticked up at the corner, just a little. “You shouldn’t have to deal with people like him alone.”
It hit me low in the gut. Not just the words. The way he said them. Like I mattered. Like I was worth protecting.
“Walk me home?” I asked.
He nodded. “Yeah.”
We walked in silence. Not awkward, but heavy. Like something unspoken stretched between us, humming louder with every step. Our shoulders brushed now and then. Each time, my body buzzed.
I stopped at my door, fumbling with the keys. “Thanks again,” I said. “I mean it.”
Rafael shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “You shouldn’t be dealing with someone like that. What the hell’s going on, James?”
I stiffened. “It’s complicated.”
“I can handle complicated.”
“No offense, but I’ve been handling it on my own for a long time.”
He didn’t speak. Just stared at me. My pulse skittered.
“I’m tired,” I admitted, quieter now. “Tired of pretending everything’s fine.”
I hesitated. “You wanna come in?”
His jaw tightened. “James…”
I didn’t let him finish. I leaned up and kissed him. Soft, at first. Hesitant. A question. Then he kissed me back, harder and hotter, like he’d been holding himself back for weeks and finally let go.
His hand came around my waist, tugging me in like he couldn’t bear any space between us. My back hit the door with a soft thud.
I gasped into his mouth, and his tongue swept in, tasting, taking, devouring.
My fingers curled in his jacket, fisting the fabric, pulling him closer, closer still. His thigh slid between mine, and my hips rocked forward before I could stop them.
My body lit up, desperate and alive. I moaned into his mouth, breathless and aching.
I could feel his bear just under the surface. It wasn’t violent or out of control. It was hungry. Possessive in a way that felt like protection. Like safety.
I didn’t feel scared. I felt seen. I felt wanted. He kissed like he meant it. Like he needed it. I broke the kiss first, panting. My lips were swollen. My heart was a wild animal behind my ribs.
“James,” he rasped, voice low and wrecked, like I’d taken something from him and he didn’t know how to ask for it back.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I shouldn’t—”
He didn’t let me finish either.
He pressed his forehead to mine. “I’m the one who should be sorry. For not showing up sooner.”
I swallowed hard. My pulse thundered through every part of me. “How did you even know I was in trouble?”
His hand slid up to my jaw, his thumb brushing lightly over my cheekbone like he couldn’t stop touching me.
“I sensed you when you were walking past the bakery,” he said quietly. “When I turned around, I saw you walking away. I don’t know why, but… something felt wrong. You weren’t your usual self. So I told Beau to close up for me and ran after you.”
He came after me. Because he was concerned. Because he could feel something was off. My chest clenched. I wanted to kiss him again. I nearly did. But I stopped myself.
This was stupid, wasn’t it? I was the one chasing him. I’d been the one pressing too close, pushing too hard. He’d just seen the truth, just caught a glimpse of the mess I was tangled in.
My debt, my fear, the shadows creeping into my life. Callum didn’t even know. None of the pack did.
And here I was, pressing Rafael against a door, kissing him like I didn’t carry baggage heavy enough to break a spine. Was I ready to drag him into my problems?
I didn’t know. I really didn’t know.
The debt wasn’t going away. Avery’s grip was still around my throat. But I couldn’t put my life on hold forever. Couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t want more just because it was inconvenient.
Still, I didn’t trust myself to say anything else without falling apart.
So I pulled back just slightly, enough to breathe, and murmured, “I’ll see you soon.”
I tried to keep my voice even. Tried not to sound like I was begging him to stay.
He nodded slowly. Every part of him looked reluctant, like his body wanted to close the distance again even if his brain was screaming don’t get involved.
“Yeah,” he said, voice husky. “Soon.”
And then he stepped back, turned away. Started walking.
I leaned against the doorframe, my chest still heaving, my lips still tingling. My body still strung out on the electricity he left behind.
I watched him until he turned the corner and disappeared into the dark.