Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Lucas

"We need to get Imogen back to headquarters," Asher said as he jerked the car into a park out the front of the supermarket. He stared at the long windows placed along the front of the building as if they personally offended him. "That apartment… This place…"

We could all calculate security risks, but no one could do so as quickly as Ash. As his eyes narrowed, I knew he was coming up with plans and discarding them.

Whereas all I wanted was Imogen.

I jumped out of the car as soon as it rolled to a stop, striding across the car park. Kyle was right there with me, matching me stride for stride.

"You gave our mate your number?" he asked, hungry for details.

I'd woken them up, got everyone moving without spilling any of the details of last night. I clung to the memory of her body pressed against mine, the way she relaxed in increments, finally falling into the deep sleep she seemed to need. I needed the same, but couldn't seem to rest for any length of time when I could stare at her, trace the shape of her face, the fall of her hair, the way it spread across the pillow. She was fucking everything, and I soaked up the sight of her until my eyes wouldn't stay open any longer, figuring I could grab some rest later. What I didn't expect was to hear her voice through the haze of sleep when I answered the phone on automatic. I really didn't want to hear that her ex was back in town and harassing her.

I wish I could say I was surprised.

This was a theme we saw all too often. The implosion of a relationship was like a bomb blast, destroying everything in it's path, but then the survivors would try and process what had happened.

I'd never been in a relationship, saving myself for the moment I found my mate, but I'd watched the way the different genders processed heartbreak. I'd seen women rage, cry, or go stone cold. Some slashed their ex's tyres or went and beat up the woman that replaced them. None of that was OK, but the incidents like this were few and far between.

Mike's behaviour was pretty bloody mild compared to the shit that we saw, but I shook my head as I got close to the front door of the supermarket. There was a common thread, though. A feeling that their partner's thoughts, feelings, implications meant nothing. Whether it was beating their wife or just turning up to her workplace to create trouble, they felt entitled to vent their spleen in whichever way made sense to them.

And right now, I was determined to make sure he never got another chance to.

"So Imogen rang you?" Kyle was trying to keep his tone neutral. "How did that happen?"

"She was crying," I told him as we walked inside, the harsh artificial lights, the noise of a busy supermarket, hitting me like a gut punch. "I heard her from the car. Went upstairs to check on her and she let me in." I stopped then, staring at my sleuth mate, right as Asher caught up, glaring at the entire store as if it'd personally offended him. "We slept together."

"What?" Asher only caught the tail end of that, but his hand was around my neck, dragging me closer. His nose worked, catching the scent that was all over me, eyes blazing neon blue. "You?—"

"Slept on top of the covers while she slept under them." I slapped his hand away. "You know I'd never take advantage of Imogen while she's going through this."

He wasn't my focus, though. I strode over to the service desk, pulling out a business card when the cute, curvy woman behind the counter turned to me.

"Can I help you?"

"Imogen?" I could barely get another word out, my throat closing up. The business card was pushed towards her, and then her eyes went wide as she read the script there.

"You're here for her? I'm Jade, the assistant manager. I'll take you through to the staffroom."

My bear was fairly laid back. Other shifters described their beasts being a constant presence, something they needed to fight against to maintain control, but mine was usually pretty quiet. Not so now. Feeling him flex inside me, snuffle at our surroundings, catching stray, stale scents of her, and not being satisfied until the door was shoved open and there she was. Not crying this time, that was my only consolation, but that haunted look?

I stayed away from the intake area for just this reason. My brain couldn't make sense of it, my heart hurting too much in second-hand pain for someone else's injuries. I'd caught glimpses in children, in women's eyes of that same feeling of hopeless fear, but never hers. Never Imogen's, that I swore. I moved forward, sinking down to one knee, remembering my training that making myself smaller would be reassuring in this kind of situation.

"Lucas…?" Imogen seemed surprised to see me, as if she'd forgotten she'd called me, her eyes flicking up to take in the rest of my sleuth. "You didn't have to come down like this. Look, I'm sorry, I overreacted?—"

"Why don't you tell us what happened first?" Asher said, it taking conscious effort to keep the growl out of his voice. "Then we can help you work out if there's a real threat."

"You can go home," Jade said, but her eyes darted to the door. "I'll find a way to clear it with Jackie."

"No!" Why did Imogen's whole body stiffen? She realised and then shook her head much more sedately. "No, I need to finish my shift. I'll talk to the guys and be right out."

Jade nodded and then left us to it, shutting the door behind her.

I turned into a grizzly bear when free to shift, and right now brown hair prickled across my arms as Imogen filled us in. Mike had come back, that instinctive sense that his girl was slipping from his grip forcing him to leave the party. That or Phil. He was the part of this that really concerned me, but right now, I took Imogen's hands and inspected them as she set the icepack she'd had wrapped around her fingers aside.

"Does this hurt?"

I flexed a finger gently and she shook her head. That didn't totally convince me, but if it was sprained, she wouldn't be able to hold a yelp of pain back. I didn't want to let her go, but forced myself to pull back.

"I'm fine." She tucked her hands up into a ball in her lap. "Really. It was an overreaction, calling you. Mike tried to steal a bottle of Coke." She snorted then and smiled in a well-practised way, but there was no warmth in her eyes, just a grey haze of long-suppressed fear. "It's nothing. I'm just being overly emotional?—"

"He scared you." Asher's eyes were like lasers every time he looked at you, cutting through the bullshit to the raw, pink meat of you. I found it uncomfortable to be subjected to it, so I couldn't imagine what it was like for Imogen to be on the receiving end of that scrutiny. "He scared you, and it's OK to admit that."

"And move on, right?" She looked at each one of us. "I want to just move on from all of this, so?—"

"Is this the kind of stunt that Mike pulled often?" Kyle asked, his tone far gentler. "Or is this a change in his behaviour?"

"He…" She didn't want to tell us, watching for our reaction before she admitted it. "This is a change. He didn't mess with my job. We needed the money coming in to keep a roof over our heads." Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. "I guess he doesn't need that anymore."

We all look at each other, thinking the same thing.

Was this all Mike was going to do? Just a little public tantrum at the shock of being dumped ‘suddenly,' or…? That unknown component with human men was what made our work so damn difficult. Mike could be about to go on a bender, drinking his sorrows away, forgetting about Imogen the moment he fell into some other girl's arms.

Or…

The possibilities, of assault, physical or sexual, of hurting her, harm that may end in her… I swallowed hard, pushing that thought aside, not wanting to revisit it.

"We said that the next few weeks would be risky." I kept my voice low, even as I reached out and placed a hand on her knee. My awareness narrowed down to her body, feeling the way she relaxed rather than tensed. "Maybe this is it for Mike. Maybe he'll stay away."

I was telling her what she wanted to hear, her head nodding along with each word, but Asher couldn't let that slide.

"Stay with us." Her eyes flicked up and widened as she stared at him. "At our headquarters, I mean. It's set up to keep women like yourself safe."

"Women like me?" The fire was back in her voice, her smile a sardonic twist as one eyebrow rose. "Women who what? Have their hands squeezed? A boyfriend that tries to steal a Coke on her dime?" She shook her head. "How freaking big is this place, because half the men out on the floor right now," Imogen stabbed a finger at the door, "say shitty things to their wives, critique them for getting chocolate as they go through my checkout, nag them about spending too much on things she likes while he dumps expensive steak on the conveyer belt. Kids nag their mums. Mothers snap at their kids. People are mean to each other every day, but they don't get locked away in some facility for their own safety."

She got to her feet, flicking her hands down her front.

"Thanks for coming. I really appreciate it, especially as this was an overreaction on my part. I was scared and not thinking straight. Next time?—"

"You'll call us." I took her hand, gently rubbing my thumb over her knuckles. "Please, call us. If Mike, if Phil…"

That was the name that made her stiffen, making me and the bear come to alertness.

"Phil…" She shot me one long, grudging look. "He was with Mike. When shit was going down, he tried to make me serve him. He…" She straightened up, staring the lot of us down. "Bought a packet of kitchen knives and some Vaseline." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Mary's still with you, right?"

"Right," Kyle replied.

Her jaw tightened, but she was determined to go back to work, that was clear.

"So why the hell would he need knives…?"

We could answer that question, but she wasn't ready to hear it. The dream, that she could get free, move on, live her life, was still there, tantalising her with the possibilities.

"Tonight," I said, clutching at the straws I had. "We'll be by your place to beef up security, swap over that door."

"Right." It was the gratitude in her eyes that had me gripping her hand tighter. "Thanks, I'll be home around…"

"Vaseline." Kyle growled out that word as we exited the supermarket. "Kitchen knives." He stopped in the car park and stared at us. "Just posturing, scaring Imogen?"

"Or escalating." Asher's arms crossed his chest. "We're not going to wait around to find out. One of us will be here to escort Imogen to her car at the end of her shift while the other two are carrying the door and other shit upstairs to her place."

With a plan in place, we left, but I shot a long look backwards before getting back into the car. The unknown element, that was always the hardest part of this job, but we were on the case. We'd make clear that Mike and Phil needed to keep the fuck away from our mate at our soonest possible convenience. That kept the bear quiet as we pulled away, driving off to the security installation supplier.