Chapter 22
June
Irun all the way home.
As I slam my front door shut, I realize my bag was open and I lost half my groceries on the street, but I don’t care.
I don’t care about groceries.
Archer found me, and there is no reason he would have been in this part of town if he weren’t looking for me. I start flinging things into my bag, needing to run away, but then I make myself stop.
“Don’t let him chase you away from the life you built for yourself,” I tell my reflection in the bathroom mirror.
My tiny bathroom has become the place I go to give myself a stern talking to when something has scared me, and I’m about to chicken out of doing whatever I need to.
Like getting rid of a roach the size of my hand.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t actually the size of my hand, but you try staying calm when a roach is running at you.
I lean closer to my reflection and meet my terrified brown gaze. “This is your life. Don’t you dare run. The next time you see any of them, you tell them to leave you alone. You don’t want them. You will never want them.”
It helps.
I’m not as jittery and panicked and afraid anymore.
“Okay,” I tell my reflection, straightening. “Okay.”
I wash my hands and walk out of my bathroom to pick up the groceries I spilled across my apartment floor and decide if enough made it home to make myself dinner.
“Hey—”
My hand jerks, my heart leaps, and I knock half the products on the shelf to the floor.
Jack looks from the products on the floor to me. “You seem jumpier than usual.”
“Sorry.” I set my duster on the shelf to grab the products I knocked over. “I didn’t hear you.”
He nods, but I feel his eyes on me as he helps me pick everything up and return it to the shelf. “You don’t have to do this, you know?”
It’s my day off, and I promised Jack that I would come and help him clean in return for his plumber friend fixing the hot water in my apartment. But if I had a choice, I would still be hiding in my apartment, too afraid of bumping into my scent matches—ex scent-matches—on the street to venture out.
I promised, and so I’m here cleaning the hardware store shelves for an hour, all while jumping at every bell jingle and male voice, suspecting it's Torin, Archer, or Callum back to torment me some more.
“It’s okay. I’m just…” My mouth was running faster than my brain because I’m not sure how to put into words how I feel.
We get everything up off the floor, and Jack turns to face me. “You’re just what?”
I chew my lip, glancing at the front of the shop to confirm we’re still alone, before I ask him, “Do you ever feel scared about something that you know you eventually have to face, but you keep hoping it’ll resolve itself if you ignore it long enough?”
It’s been two days since I saw Archer, and I keep telling myself I won’t see him again.
But what if he finds me?
I gave myself the sternest talking to I ever have before, and I meant every word. Yet I’m like a lit firework about to go off, twitching and jumpy and terrified.
And I know myself. If I see Archer, Torin, or Callum again, I will run, because they scare me more than any roach ever will.
Jack’s lips twitch, and a flare of amusement flickers across his gaze. “I do know. How about a break?”
I’ve barely cleaned anything. Mostly moved stuff around and jumped at every sound, trying to convince myself that any male voice I hear isn’t one of my scent matches back to drag me into their world. I might as well let Jack distract me for a bit.
“Sure.”
I follow Jack to the back of his shop, where he has a tiny office and wall shelves so loaded down with inventory it’s a wonder they haven’t fallen.
I take a seat in the wobbly chair on the other side of a desk packed with even more stuff.
“Aren’t you afraid someone will come in while you’re in the back? ” I ask.
He snorts. “Unlikely. You want a drink?”
I shake my head.
“The shop is failing,” he says with a sigh, leaning against the wall and folding his arms across his chest. He tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling light. “No matter what I do, I can’t dig myself out of this mess.”
“I could ask Gia. She knows almost everyone in the building. Someone might have a good idea to save your business.”
He tosses me a brief smile. “We’re in the wrong part of town. There’s not enough foot traffic, and our prices are too high.”
I frown. “Couldn’t you lower prices to…” He’s already shaking his head, so I drop my suggestion.
“That won’t work. We’re a mom-and-pop store, and we can’t afford to order big enough supplies to get the good deals that the bigger chains can.
We lose money if we lower prices, and we don’t get customers because we can’t lower the prices any more than we have already. Basically, we’re bleeding money.”
His problems put mine in perspective. Running from an alpha seems significantly easier than saving a failing business. I chew my lip as I think, but I just learned how to use the stove without burning my dinner. This is beyond me. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
He shakes his head. “I’m just delaying the inevitable. Hugh was my dad.”
Was.
I wince.
There I was, bumbling into his store, demanding to see Hugh and worrying about my lack of water, and he was trying to keep his dead dad’s business afloat. His dad died, and he inherited a massive problem he’s trying to resolve, probably while still grieving.
“I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t know, and it was a long time coming.
” His eyes sweep over the overflowing desk and dusty shelves.
“He gave everything to keep this place going. I used to help out on the weekends and sometimes after school. Then I went to college, and I didn’t realize how bad things were getting.
He probably should have closed it years ago, but he was proud.
” He snorts. “I must get it from him because here I am trying to figure out how to keep a shop with no customers alive.”
I don’t know much—or anything—about business. “Could you move the shop to somewhere busier?” I suggest.
“We have too many debts here, and starting over means a big down-payment for a new space. I don’t have that kind of money, and running a hardware store was never what I wanted to do.
” He releases a sigh so heavy, he must have the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Closing makes sense. There’s no reason not to close.
Every time I walk in the front door and turn on the lights, I’m losing money, but… ”
“But this was your dad’s shop, and you want to keep it alive for him?”
He nods. “It’s all we have left of him—Mom and me.”
“What does your mom think?”
He shrugs. “To do what makes me happy.”
“And what would make you happy?”
“Be a writer,” he says. “I majored in creative writing.”
I make a face. “Ah…”
He grins at me. “So you can see how well prepared I was to save a struggling business. My mom thinks I should close the shop and do what I want with my life, but she poured just as much time into this shop as Dad.”
“I’ll talk to Gia…” I meet his gaze. “Do you mind if I talk to her? She’s really smart, and I’m sure she’ll have a great idea about saving your shop.” But his expression is all the answer I need. “You don’t want me to tell anyone?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. Least of all to anyone from your building. They won’t have anywhere to go when they have more problems. I want to do what I can to save this place and anyone else who needs my help, and not have them worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay,” I say, unsure I believe him from his furrowed brow. “I’d better get back to cleaning.”
My head spins as I get to my feet.
“Hey! Are you okay?” Jack asks, catching me before I can fall.
I offer him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I just got up too fast.”
“You should go home. Rest.” He scans my face. “You look tired.”
Because I haven’t been sleeping and barely eating since I saw Archer on the other side of the street, feet from my apartment. “I’m okay. Really,” I add when it doesn’t look like he believes me. “I just got up too fast. That’s all.”