Chapter 5 #2
Cleo wasn’t by the bike anymore. He peered to the right and spotted her standing around those three knuckleheads, and he could hear everything.
The tall one with the white baseball hat and new shoes flicked her hair from behind her. “Why do you cut your hair like a boy?”
“I like it short. If you like long hair so much, why don’t you grow out yours? Then you can stare at yourself in the mirror.”
Her sass made Krys smile.
The boy circled around her the way wolves often did. “Who are your parents?”
Cleo didn’t answer.
“My dad says you’re a mutt,” the smaller boy taunted. “Do you know what a mutt is?”
The boys started barking at her and laughing.
Cleo put her hands on her hips. “Better not say that too loud or my dad will hear you.”
The older one sounded like a little girl when he laughed. “That biker dude is not your dad.”
“Yeah he is. And you better watch what you say to me.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because he’s a vicious wolf. I know you’ve heard the rumors. He’ll sneak into your room and strip the meat off your bones.”
“Whatever.”
The boys jumped on their bicycles and casually pedaled off.
Krys shoved the door open. When Cleo joined his side, he put his hand on her head and stared daggers at the older kid, who dared to look back. “Go inside and get your helmet.”
She gave an exasperated sigh before jogging into the store and returning with her black helmet. After climbing onto the bike, she asked, “Can I drive home?”
“No.”
“Why not? Aunt Mel used to ride her uncle’s bike when she was younger than me.”
He snorted at Melody’s wild stories. “Your aunt Mel is half crazy. You don’t want to grow up like her.”
She secured the helmet and lifted the face shield. “Maybe I do. She’s cool.”
“Then ask her if she’ll let you ride her kick scooter. You’re not driving my bike.”
“You’re no fun.”
“Never said I was.” He approached the front wheel and glanced at the road. “Why did you tell those kids that about me?”
“Because they’re jerks. Don’t worry; nobody thinks you’re a cannibal.”
He rubbed his finger on the chrome. “No, I meant the part about my being your dad.”
Her cheeks bloomed red, and suddenly Cleo couldn’t make eye contact. “I was trying to scare them. They’re always picking on me. Someone said if a boy picks on you, that means they like you. And I don’t like him.”
Who was going around telling kids that stupid fucking lie?
Krys inched closer. “Who told you that? Someone in our pack?”
She pretended to throttle the bike. “No.”
He planted his hand on her helmet and forced her to look at him. “If a boy hurts you, physically or otherwise, that doesn’t mean he likes you. It means he’s an asshole. Do you want to marry an asshole?”
“Um, no.”
He let go of the helmet. “And furthermore, if any kid ever puts one finger on you—and I don’t give a shit if he’s flicking your earlobe or poking you in the back—come tell me.”
“Why? I can handle myself.”
“You’re a kid, and we’re your pack. Nobody fucks with the pack.”
“Then maybe I should go to Tak, since he’s the Packmaster.”
Krys squinted at the cloudless sky before sliding his shades back on.
The cicadas were singing noisily in a nearby tree, enough to give him a headache.
“If you do that, it could start a war with another pack. Look, if you need to tell someone, go to Lakota. That’s what the beta’s for.
Better yet, come tell me and I’ll take care of the problem. ”
“You’d beat up a kid?”
He laughed at the thought. Tempting, but no.
“Who said anything about hurting him? I’d scare the shit out of him so he’d never come near you again.
People don’t hurt you because they care.
Talk to your aunt Cici. She’ll set you straight.
” That got him thinking. “Isn’t there a woman in the house you talk to about personal stuff? ”
“Aunt Mercy answers questions about my memory issues. Is that what you mean?”
No, that wasn’t what he meant. Cleo was getting older, and since she didn’t have parents, Krys got to wondering if any of the women had taken on the responsibility of answering all those important questions kids her age had.
Life stuff. Girl stuff. But also teaching her behavior around wolf Shifters.
What not to do, how to stand up for herself, how to know when she was going through her first change.
He gestured to her short top. “You got the wrong size.”
Cleo scrunched her nose. “No, I didn’t.”
“You can’t walk around the property in that or you’ll get ticks.”
She chortled. “I’m not getting ticks. Besides, this one’s not as hot as the others.”
Krys wasn’t about to argue with why she liked baggy clothes instead of regular T-shirts. Clothes were about individuality for some and comfort for others, and since he wore leathers, he wasn’t one to talk. But he didn’t like her going in the other direction with too tight and too short.
He flicked a glance down at her. “Did you eat?”
“No.”
“You want to grab a bite at the Rabbit Lounge?”
“What about dinner?”
He pulled the key out of his pocket. “Everyone’s doing their own thing tonight.”
That wasn’t entirely true. Even though Bear was working late, someone always cooked in his absence.
Cleo spent more time at home than most kids, and she didn’t have anyone her age to play with at the house.
She needed to socialize, and giving her a push felt necessary.
Cleo used to be shy, but time had revealed she wasn’t shy at all.
She was distrusting of strangers. Hell, no one should blindly trust people, but Krys didn’t want her to regress because they neglected her socialization skills.
Besides that, she needed some meat on her bones. It was possible she was naturally thin, but all Krys’s wolf wanted to do was feed her. That probably stemmed from his own past trauma.
Cleo scooted forward. “I’ll go but only if I can drive there.”
“No.”
“It’s only like fifty feet away!”
“Kid, that’s more than fifty feet.”
“Fine.” She slammed her face shield down. “Forget it.”
That cut like a knife.
He mounted the bike behind her. “All right. But only this once. And this doesn’t give you permission to touch my bike when I’m not looking. If you even think about taking this thing for a spin around the yard, I’ll never trust you again.”
“I promise!”
“I must be out of my mind. Insert the key, but don’t crank it yet.”
He was tempted to explain everything about the Harley—give her the full breakdown—but they’d never make it across the street before dark.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Use your foot to put up the kickstand. Grip the handlebars and straighten the front wheel first.”
She did everything as instructed: turning on the electrical system, putting it in neutral, and pulling in the clutch.
The next thing he knew, the engine was rumbling.
It hadn’t occurred to him until that moment that he’d never seen her ride a bicycle, so she probably had no center of gravity, and if she didn’t keep a steady grip on those bars…
“Maybe this isn’t such a hot idea.”
Cleo eased out the clutch and gave it gas, and they were moving.
“Stop!” he demanded.
The bike stalled.
She twisted around and pushed up the face shield. “What did I do wrong?”
“How did you know about the clutch?”
“Because I pay attention when you give me a ride. Can I do it again?”
He rubbed his face and hoped like hell Joy wasn’t anywhere near the windows.
“Slower this time. I mean it. People drive like lunatics down this road. Unless you’re turning, keep the handlebars straight.
No sharp turns. Whenever you stop, put both feet down.
Don’t get all cocky and use one foot. This bike weighs about six hundred pounds.
I want you to stop at the road and look both ways before pulling out. ”
“But you never stop and look.”
“That’s cool. If you don’t want to learn—”
“Okay! I’ll do it.”
Krys watched Cleo go through all the steps before maneuvering across the parking lot. She was a little wobbly, and he was taking mental bets on whether she would stall out or tip over first.
When they pulled onto the road, he instinctively reached around her to help her steer. As soon as she merged onto the empty road, she took off like a bat out of hell. His hair whipped in the wind, but he kept his mouth shut, since yelling might cause her to crash.
They arrived at the Rabbit Lounge in a blink. Cleo veered into the parking lot, drove to the middle, made a hard left in a panic move, and stalled out.
He couldn’t be more fucking proud.
Cleo didn’t bother putting the stand down as she climbed off and removed her helmet. A bright smile was plastered across her face—a carefree countenance she rarely showed. “That was fun! Let’s do it again.”
“Let’s not.” Krys scooted up and started the bike before parking it away from the cars. Meanwhile, Cleo was skipping around like a grasshopper through the parking lot as if she’d won the lottery.
After securing the helmet, he strutted toward the bar and tried like hell to conceal his smile. When she noticed, her eyes brightened.
It wasn’t bad for her first try. The first time Krys rode a bike, he struck the curb and tumbled off. Cleo needed to be a carefree kid. That excited look on her face made his getting in trouble worth it.
At the door, he gripped the handle but hesitated. “I mean it, kid. Don’t say a word to anyone in the pack. I’ll never hear the end of it, and you can bet they won’t trust me to drive you around anymore.”
“I promise.”
“And remember what I said—”
“Don’t ride your bike without your permission. I know how to listen.”
“Listening is one thing; obeying is another. Bikes aren’t toys. If you feel like riding, ask your aunt Cici if she’ll let you on her bicycle.”
Cleo turned but not before he caught her rolling her eyes.
As soon as they walked in, the music switched to an old rock tune called “Closing Time.” Calvin played that whenever rowdy customers were pissing him off. It was a silent threat to behave or else he’d shut the place down for the night.