Chapter 12
JULIET
Turns out, if I complain enough about something, a werewolf will get me what I want.
At least Roderick will.
Which is how I find myself examining a state-of-the-art security system that includes motion-sensor lights, multiple exterior cameras, as well as an alarm that immediately calls the local authorities if I don’t type the correct code into a little keypad.
My finger taps the glass screen of the security monitor mounted on the wall of my entryway, and I feel more settled for having it there.
“The code is one, two, three, four, pound key. Change it by pressing star, the current code, star, the new four-digit code, then star one last time. That’s all in this manual.
” Roderick hands over a white booklet, and I take it with a half smile, overwhelmed with a sudden sense of gratitude toward the wolf.
He may be a creature from my nightmares and the town’s biggest grump, but he followed through on getting this system installed for me even though it falls outside of his job description.
I’m on the precipice of thanking him, but Roderick continues talking.
“You can call 911 by typing those numbers and pressing pound. You can also type in your four-digit security code and add a zero at the end before pressing pound to shut off the alarm, but also send a distress call to the authorities.”
It’s only now that I realize this is the longest string of words Roderick has ever spoken to me. Also, he’s intently watching my face as he does so, and I suddenly get the sense this is more than just an instructional rundown of my security system capabilities.
The wolf has something on his mind. Something involving me.
This can’t be good.
So, instead of coming out with my sincere thank-you, I decide to keep my guard firmly in place.
“Good to know. I think I’ll read over this manual and give you a call if I can’t figure something out on my own.” I nod toward the door, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave.
But Roderick remains looming in my small front entryway, taking up more than his fair share of the space.
“We need to talk,” he says, his voice hard, as if he expects me to argue.
“We are talking,” my smart mouth decides to point out. Petty is my defense.
A muscle twitches in his jaw, but a second later, the indication of his annoyance is gone. Smoothed away and replaced by unbreakable scrutiny.
“Where did you move here from?”
All of my willpower goes into keeping a reaction off my face. Unfortunately, I’m not able to control the rate my heart spikes up to.
Roderick’s stare drops slightly, and I could swear he’s eyeing the quickening pulse in my neck.
“I lived all over.” My voice is too breathy, but I can’t seem to remember how much air I normally need in my lungs. “Was kind of a rolling stone. But I grew up on the East Coast.”
His stare remains. “Where was the last place you lived?”
I shrug, trying to maintain my false air of calm. “Another small town. I doubt you’ve heard of it.”
His nostrils flare with a huff of breath, colored with dissatisfaction.
Do I care?
Fuck no. I want the wolf out of my house.
He can huff and puff all he wants, but my walls aren’t coming down.
“Where was the last place you worked?” he presses.
Should’ve known he wouldn’t give up.
“A public library.”
“What was it called?”
“Why do you care?”
But I already know.
Roderick Jameson is on a hunt.
The wolf has been doing some digging. Trying to find the marks I’ve left on the world as I made my way through it. He hasn’t found anything.
Because there’s nothing to find.
As far as the world is concerned, Juliet Adair only came into existence when she moved to Pine Falls, Colorado.
“Your name’s not Juliet.” He growls the accusation at me, done with his attempt at subtle prying.
And even though I knew things would come to this, the bald truth thrown in my face surprises a flinch out of me.
Silently, I curse the slip.
But attempting to pretend it isn’t true seems pointless now.
There’s no way for me to convince Roderick that he’s wrong.
I simply banked on no one being interested enough in me to look too closely into my past, so I don’t have a fake birth certificate or anything on hand to provide documentation to my false background.
But just because he’s figured out Juliet isn’t my original name doesn’t mean he gets anything else from me.
So, I smirk, knowing it’ll piss him off. “Well, your name isn’t Asshole, but you seem hell-bent on me calling you that.”
Roderick’s eyes widen, and it’s clear he didn’t expect me to cop to the deception. Then his scowl comes back, all the fiercer.
“Tell me who you are.”
“I’m Juliet Adair. The newest librarian in Pine Falls. And I’m a homeowner too!” I relay this with an overly bright voice I use with patrons I want to throttle.
The wolf puffs out another intense exhale of agitation. “Stop lying to me.”
Get out of my house! I want to screech.
To keep the harpy wail inside, I clench my teeth, but somehow, I still push out a harsh response. “I’m not lying. Maybe I haven’t always been Juliet Adair, but I sure as hell am now. And that’s all that matters to me. Now I want you out of my house and off my territory.”
Roderick’s stoic shell begins to fracture.
“You don’t get to come to this town,” he growls, “and spout off lies.”
“Like I said, I’m not lying!” Great, now I’m shouting. And suddenly, I’m up in Roderick’s face, shoving at his chest.
Not a good idea, a small, terrified voice whispers in the back of my brain.
But I’m too pissed off to heed it.
“This is my house! This is my life! And if I want to change my name to The Last Woman on Earth to Care About Roderick Jameson’s Opinion, then I’ll damn well do it!”
I go for another shove, but the wall of a man doesn’t move. He just glares down at me.
And I’ve had enough.
If I were a werewolf, this would likely continue to be a standoff. But I’m a human, and I like to think I’m in some possession of strategic intelligence.
So, I step around Roderick and walk out the front door.
Another wolf would never have done that because it would seem too much like retreating. Running away with my tail between my legs.
But I’m just relocating the argument to a preferred environment.
And Roderick, who is so bent on having this fight, can only participate if he follows me.
Just to piss him off more, I whistle and pat my leg before flicking my fingers in the ASL sign for dog.
A deep growl sounds behind me, sending a shiver down my spine.
The strange thing is, along with the prick of fear the noise brings, I feel something almost like excitement. The opposing emotions swirl in my chest, confusing my nerves and making my skin overly sensitive.
There’s a clomp of heavy worker boots stomping down my worn porch steps.
“I won’t put up with this.”
“My gods, get over it! So I changed my name. So you don’t know every detail of my past. You don’t need to care about that stuff, so stop growling about it!” I whirl on him, arms crossed, glare seething.
Roderick’s eyes are just as heated. “If it doesn’t matter, then tell me.”
“I never said it doesn’t matter. It matters a whole hell of a lot to me.” I jab a thumb against my breastbone. “But it is none of your damn business.” Despite knowing he won’t move, I still reach out and shove his shoulder, fulfilling the urge to bother him as much as he’s bothering me.
Roderick spent the majority of the day installing the security system, and now evening has descended, leaving the two of us illuminated only by my front porch light. I’m glad the argument is no longer happening in my house, but I hope our angry voices don’t disturb Hester.
“Pine Falls is my business.” Roderick ignores my push, dragging fingers over his shaved head as if he wants to claw the skin off. “The people here don’t need some outsider bringing trouble. Why don’t you sell your wares in some other town?”
The odd comment lands heavy between us, like a boulder toppling into a puddle. No room for it to sink away. Despite the darkness, I can still make out the way his mouth twists in a grimace.
Roderick is probably hoping I’ll leave it or immediately forget what he said.
But that’s not about to happen.
“Sell my wares?” I repeat with a disbelieving laugh. “When did I become a charlatan, charging the naive folk of Pine Falls for snake oil in the Old West?” Another chuckle sneaks out because this is all too much. “Did I suddenly grow a twirly mustache and not notice?”
Roderick grumbles something incoherent.
“I am a librarian.” I emphasize this with another pointless poke against his muscly, too-warm chest. “At a public library.” Poke. Poke. “I basically hand out books for free.”
The guy could easily stop me from putting my hands on him. But maybe my efforts are so insubstantial that he doesn’t even notice my touch.
“You need to be honest, or you need to go.” The declaration rings from him with a certain finality. As if he were a king, announcing a decree that all the villagers had no choice but to follow.
My brief amusement vanishes, and I’m a new level of livid.
This wolf has no idea the strength it took for me to get to this town. The fear I dealt with on a daily basis for months, worried that my plans would be discovered. The terror of the night I fled. The pain of leaving my entire identity behind.
I struggled for my place in this town, and Roderick has no right to take it away from me. He’s not the mayor. I’m not a member of his pack. I’m not a wolf at all.
I am a woman, doing her best to build something new after demolishing all connections to my past.
“Guess what.” My voice turns calm, deceptively pleasant.
“I’m done with catering to the fragile needs of men.
Much less one of you.” Stepping around him, I return to the home I bought for myself.
The place I plan to make my safe haven. When I step inside, I turn for a final comment.
“In other words”—I grab my front door—“fuck off!”
The slam of wood against wood rattles my tiny house, but it was worth it.
Pressing my back against the door, I wait. After a minute or so, there’s the sound of a truck door being slammed shut and an engine roaring to life.
He’s leaving. Thank the gods.
Only when I’m alone, with the exchange replaying in my head, do I fully comprehend how much I said with the express goal of making a strange werewolf angry.
And I pushed him. Repeatedly.
It was like I was trying to get a rise out of him. A physical reaction. Like I needed Roderick to hurt me. So I could prove that he was exactly as untrustworthy as Cory.
And now my body is a jumble of raw nerves, expecting pain. Bracing for it. Cringing from it.
That’s when the panic sets in.
My fingers shake horribly as I press the buttons on my alarm keypad, quickly changing the code to my grandmother’s birthday. Then, with my back against the wall, I slide down to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest.
The anxiety ripples through my body, setting every inch of me quivering.
What will he do?
Will he come back?
If he does, what will I do?
Cory was always nicer after he bruised me. Bringing flowers or jewelry.
The first always died, and I left the meaningless baubles behind.
If Roderick hurts me, will he at least be nice afterward?
A furious, frustrated sob rips from my throat at the helpless thought.
My whole being is primed to slide directly back into that toxic cycle. Cory tried his best to shape me into the perfect empty cup to dump his anger into.
With effort, I breathe at a steady pace, trying my hardest to control what physical reactions I can. Time seems to pass slow, but eventually, my heart backs off its panicked rhythm. My muscles continue to twitch, still expecting pain, but I’m not crumpling under the weight of past fear anymore.
With a determined heave, I push myself up from the floor.
Cory failed. I left. The beaten-down creature he’d tried to create is not who I am.
I am not a thing to be broken and taped back together with meaningless apologies and shiny objects.
If any man tries to use me that way again, he’ll be the one to break.