Chapter One #2
“It’s fine.” She stammered and heaved a thick sigh. Her breath hitched and she connected a call, giving him her back. “It’s not your fault either,” she said kindly.
Bridger stood there awkwardly as she connected a call on her phone.
A tear streaked to her cheek, and she dashed the moisture away with the back of her hand.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but can I just have a second?
I have to figure some stuff out. I don’t like crying in front of people, and my stupid emotions are everywhere, and…
” She heaved a steadying sigh, her eyes closed.
When she opened them again, the glow was less and they were back to gray instead of nearly white.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “Hi,” she answered as her call was picked up.
She paced away, and he could see her wipe her cheeks again.
“Yeah, I got here, but I think I’m just not ready for this.
I made a mistake. You were right.” She turned to see if he was still there, and Bridger had only made it to the porch.
She frowned and pulled open her car door. “Listen, can I borrow a little money to get home? I’m on empty.” The door closed, and he had to strain his ears to hear. “No, I just need gas money. I’m going to drive straight through.”
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like her borrowing money. He didn’t know this lady, but he did understand the desperation in her voice. He’d been there before.
He’d been pretending to put his porch chairs back in their place, but now he jogged down the porch stairs and pulled her door open.
“What are you doing?” she asked, covering the speaker of her phone.
“Who are you talking to?”
“None of your business.” She reached over and tried to close the door.
“I’ll give you gas money,” he murmured low. “It’s the least I can do.”
She frowned. “I don’t need anything from you.” She reached over and tried to close the door again, but he kept it pried open and knelt beside her.
“Please,” he whispered.
Her dainty nostrils flared with her deep inhalation. “Val, can I call you back?”
“What’s happening?” a woman’s voice asked on the line.
“Bridger wants to talk. I’ll call you back in like one minute.” She hung up. “Look, I have a job lined up here. I didn’t just come here trying to mooch off you. I’m supposed to start bartending at The Mark tomorrow afternoon. I had a plan. I would’ve had cash tips by tomorrow night. I don’t mooch.”
Okay. Okay, this woman was interesting at least.
“I’m a hard worker and I’ve never asked anyone for anything.”
“You’re asking Val for something,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, she’s my Packmate and owes me a thousand bucks. I helped her get all of her gutters replaced last year. I’m comfortable asking her for gas money in a desperate situation.”
“You can’t just drive straight back to Alabama. It’s a long drive. You need to take a break and rest before you head back.”
“Why do you care? Huh, stranger?” She gripped the steering wheel and looked over at Vic and Lyric’s house. “This is all really messed up.” Another tear slipped to her cheek, and she wiped it fast. “I’m not weak,” she growled. He liked the way her voice sounded when it was gritty.
It really was messed up, the more he thought about it. He felt badly that this had happened to this lady.
“Wait here,” he told her.
Bridger made his way inside and grabbed his phone from the kitchen counter, then on second thought, doubled back and grabbed her a cold bottle of water from the fridge and a package of cookies he’d just bought on a whim at the grocery store.
He returned to her car, and she looked baffled as she took the water and cookies from him. “Thank you,” she murmured.
He connected a call to a hotel in Coeur d’Alene and booked a room, paid for it with his credit card he knew by memory, as he made his way to the shed on the side of his house and grabbed one of the full gas cans he kept stocked.
He hung up and popped the lid of her gas tank and started filling it.
“There’s a room at the Double Tree waiting for you. What’s your number?” he asked.
“My phone number?” she asked. Her voice was soft and full of shock.
“Yeah, so I can send you cash for gas. I can do it off your phone number.”
“Oh.” She frowned and recited it as he typed it into his banking app. He sent her five hundred dollars so she would have enough for food too.
She checked her phone as it vibrated with the banking text. Her eyes went round. “Oh my gosh, that’s way too much.”
“Don’t worry about it. This is all really fucked up. I’ll get ‘em. Don’t worry. My Alpha will be involved about five minutes after you leave this place. Trust me, it won’t happen again.”
Her bottom lip trembled and she lowered her gaze. “Thank you for being nice.”
“I mean, I called you a stripper and insulted you a bunch.”
“Yeah. That part wasn’t nice.” She inhaled deeply and looked up at him and smiled. It was a forced smile, but it was pretty. Her eyes sure were bright surrounded by all that dark to light hair.
“Good luck with your matchmaking,” he murmured.
She pursed her lips into a thin line. “Good luck with the loneliness.”
He frowned, wondering what that meant, but before he could ask, she reached over and pulled the handle of the door closed.
Bridger stood back, confused. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and watched her reverse slowly.
Her brakes were squeaking. The sound made him wince. It was like nails on a chalkboard.
Kit…Kit?...she pulled to the side and put the car in drive. She offered one last sad smile, and he lifted his hand in a two-fingered wave.
What a fuckin’ mess, he thought as she disappeared down the road and into the trees, headed for the main road that would take her to Coeur d’Alene.
He strode toward Liam’s house.
He needed a Pack meeting called.
Now.