Chapter Four

You need to come back here.

Corey narrowed her eyes at the text that had come through from Ace, whom she’d named Longdong in her phone.

Is Hallie all right?Send.

Yep.

Mmm. Hard pass then. Should I get ice cream sandwiches this week, or push-pops?Send. And then she sent a picture of the two options in the freezer of the grocery store she was currently shopping in.

Ice cream sandwiches, came the immediate reply.

Huh. It was hot when a man was decisive.

Appreciate you. Send.

Corey shoved her phone back into her purse, grabbed the box of ice cream sandwiches, and then headed for the cheese aisle. The cheese aisle was her favorite. Admission: sometimes she grated a pile of sharp cheddar and ate it for dinner, and so far, she had no regrets.

She picked up a block of the greatest food in the world, but was interrupted again by the ding of her phone.

A little swarm of butterflies consumed her stomach as she pulled her phone out. Uh-oh. She should not feel all excited to be talking to a dangerous boy. She needed to get a grip.

Round three interviews just began. Come back.

Why would I want to do that? I have ice cream sandwiches to binge eat.Send.

The dots showed up, like he was typing. She should throw her phone back in her purse and head to the wine aisle, but she just stood there like a dunce staring at her phone.

It wasn’t a written text that came through, but a video instead.

Corey looked around just in case it was a video of his wiener, but no such luck. It was a selfie video of him talking.

He had a pair of cuts on the side of his neck that were oozing blood. His hair was mussed, his skin pale, and his eyes blindingly-bright blue. “Gunner asked where you are,” he said low, then glanced up at something and back to the video. “Hallie said she texted you, but you haven’t answered, so here I am, asking you to come back.” He arched both eyebrows in an expression of seriousness and gritted out, “Come back.”

She had ignored Hallie’s text as a dose of her own medicine, but now she scrolled over to it and read. Gunner said yes. He said you can interview for the Crew. Ace put in a good word, and I asked too. It’s not official, but can you come here and talk to us? Before Damon leaves for the day?

What the hell. Her, a part of a shifter Crew? Had they lost their minds? She didn’t even like paper-cuts, and shifters bled all the time.

She did the annoying thing and connected a call to Ace instead of texting back.

“Hey,” he said.

“Why would I want to be a part of the Crew?” she asked softly.

“So you can be close to Hallie?”

“I live the next property over. I will figure out how to be close to her by showing up unexpectedly at her house.”

Ace snorted. “Suit yourself. Bye.”

“Wait!” Her voice echoed down the aisle with her volume, and a lady at the end startled hard and offered her a dour look. “Sorry,” she whispered to the woman. “Will I have to be a drug mule or kill people?”

“What?”

“I watch documentaries.”

“This isn’t a biker gang.”

“Why are you bleeding again?” she demanded.

“Because round two of interviews were fights for rank.”

She shouldn’t care about this, and she certainly shouldn’t ask. She crossed an arm under her elbow and cocked her head. “And what rank did you end up?”

“Come back to Hallie’s place and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“I’m not coming back for some loser, Ace. What rank did you get? And it better be a high one, I am very sought-after.” She was trying to hide the smile in her voice.

“I can still hear a lie.”

“What. Rank!”

“Third.”

“Third? Who beat you?”

“Gunner is first, and Hallie is Second of the Crew.”

“Oh.” Her eyebrows arched so high they were probably in her hairline. “How many did you fight?”

“All of them. Are you on your way?”

Well, that was hot, and she didn’t care what that said about her. She cleared her throat and tried for nonchalance. “I still have to pay out. Would you like anything from the grocery store? I’m currently in the cheese aisle.”

“I could use a drink, and I’m starving. I didn’t know this was an all-day interview.”

“What kind of beer do you like?”

“I was talking about water, but I guess just surprise me. I’ll have cash to pay you back when you get here.”

“I’ll think about it—”

“Corey!”

“Fine! I’m on my way, don’t get your panties in a twist.” She moved to hang up, but then she pulled the phone back up to her mouth and muttered, “And don’t tell me what to do.”

She hung up on him, but then took a screenshot of their text thread so he could see the name she’d saved into her phone for him. She sent it, and he replied with a laughing-face emoji.

At least he was fun.

Bantering back and forth with him had completely alleviated the sting of Hallie standing her up this morning. Her day certainly wasn’t boring.

She grabbed a couple of things she hoped he would like to eat, a six-pack of her favorite beer, a first-aid kit, and a couple of bottled waters at the front, then paid out.

By the time she arrived back at Hallie’s mobile home, the crowd had thinned out by a lot. There were perhaps a dozen shifters left, and they were milling loosely around a pile of stones that looked like the unbuilt materials for a firepit.

Off to the side of the house, Ace was chopping wood. Like a lumberjack. He didn’t have a shirt on, and what in the ever-loving Sasquatch pubes was he doing?

He was grace and power with each swing, and the axe blade split the logs in two with only one swing each. It would take her forty-five swings.

Why was he doing sexy-man stuff for no reason? No one was even taking video of him.

She glanced around, held up her phone, and pushed the video button.

Someone had to do it.

He glanced over and frowned, wiped his forehead with his forearm, and then twitched his head in a come here gesture.

Now, the feminist in her was not about to go trotting over to a hot, perspiring man just because he gave her a head twitch, but the hornball in her told the feminist side to hush. So here she was, hobbling clumsily over to him with a sack of groceries dangling from one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.

The other shifters watched her walk awkwardly past them. She smiled at them. “Hi boys, doing great, carry on.”

“I want a beer delivery,” one of them called.

She huffed a breath and gave in to her giving nature. She set it down, ripped into the top, grabbed a beer, and tossed it to him.

He caught it and read the brightly-colored label. “What’s a Ratsquatch beer?”

“It’s an IPA, you swine. Have some culture, it’s delicious.”

One of the other shifters laughed loudly. When she turned to continue on to Lumberjack Longdong, Ace was standing right next to her. She yelped, startled, but when she looked up at him, he wore a hot-boy grin.

“It’s funny because you called a boar shifter a swine.”

She grinned. “I’m good at guessing. Here are your snacks, hippo shifter.” She held up a package of celery.

Ace pursed his lips, but she could still see the laugh in his eyes. “I’m not a hippo shifter.”

“I brought you some roast beef in case you were a meat-eating predator.” She held up the pound of thinly-sliced roast beef she’d grabbed from the deli section of the grocery store.

“Beef and beer, my kinda gal.” He led her to the side of the house where he had been lumberjacking.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” she asked.

He tossed her a look. “Chopping wood turns you on?”

“Chopping wood shirtless would turn any woman on.”

He sat on the woodpile, dug through the groceries, and pulled out a loaf of bread. He stuffed some roast beef onto a slice and folded it, then handed it to her before he made his own sandwich. There was a growl in his chest as he worked.

“You okay?” she asked seriously.

“Injured. Food will make it heal faster.”

She knelt and dug into the bag, pulled out the first-aid kit, and held it up. “Injured where?”

He stopped mid-chew, his bright eyes locked on the little red kit in her hand.

“You got a first-aid kit?”

She nodded. “Apparently you bleed all the freaking time.”

“Not usually, you just met me on a bad day.”

She looked at the others, who were milling about talking amongst themselves. “Why are you alone over here?”

“Gunner gave me a job,” he said low.

“Just you?”

He nodded and took another bite.

That’s when she noticed the claw marks on his torso. He’d washed the blood off, and they were half-healed injuries, but they were red and angry looking. “Those are new?” she asked, gesturing to his clawed-up six-pack.

“It’s fine.”

“Is Gunner giving you space from the other shifters?” she asked curiously.

Ace’s gaze coasted over to the others. “He’s giving them a break.”

“From you?”

He nodded once, and took another bite. He rolled his eyes closed and relaxed his head back as he chewed. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” he moaned.

“Sounds like you haven’t met the right woman, heyooo.”

He nearly choked, and coughed. “What is wrong with you?”

“I can see your smile from here, don’t pretend I’m weird. Hand me the mayo.”

He reached into the bag, pulled out the mayonnaise she’d purchased and offered it to her, then jerked it away as soon as she almost reached it. “Say please.”

“Please give it to me right now.”

“Mustard is better on roast beef.”

“Lucky for you, I am a genius and bought mustard too.”

“For real?” He dug through the bag, and said, “Oh hell yeah,” as he pulled the small, brand-new bottle of mustard out. “Oh my God, is that Swiss cheese?”

“I am pretty amazing,” she said, bowing her head.

“Girl. Girl!” he uttered as he made another sandwich. “You do not understand how awesome this is.”

She sat down criss-cross applesauce, squeezed mayo onto her roast beef sandwich, and took a bite. She cracked open one of the beers and handed it to him without a word. He took it smoothly, then offered her a bite of his sandwich. She tried it, and nodded. Not bad with the mustard.

Chewing her huge bite, she looked at the others. “Who are we thinking Gunner will choose?”

“Rumor is, Captain is still in the running,” he said so low, she almost missed it.

“What?” she whisper-screamed. “The drama.”

He arched his dark brows and nodded, then took another huge bite. She didn’t know why, but she’d always been attracted to men who could eat a lot. There was only one bite left of his sandwich, and he offered it to her. She took it, and he instantly started making another one. She giggled around her bite. “Are you a pig shifter?”

“It’s called a boar shifter, and no. You won’t guess,” he told her.

“Firefly?” she joked.

He snorted and swallowed his bite, took a drink of the beer, then straightened his spine and sighed a relieved sound.

“The fighting is hard on your body, huh?” she asked.

“The fast healing is awesome, but it drains us.”

“I should’ve gotten you a coffee instead of beer, then.”

“Nah, this is perfect. Thank you.” He set the drink down, set his sandwich on his thigh, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a couple twenty-dollar bills from his wallet.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I will put it in you car if you don’t take it. Seriously, thank you.”

She smiled softly and took the money. “No problem. Glad I could help.” She shoved the folded money into her sports bra, and opened her own beer. At least it was still pretty cold.

“Did you just store your money in your cleavage?” he asked, eyes trained on her middle.

“You like that?” she asked cheekily. “Well, then you’ll love this.” She reached into her cleavage and pulled out her lip gloss.

He belted out a laugh. “What else do you have in there?”

“Would you like a piece of gum?” She pulled out a little silver-wrapped piece of peppermint-flavored gum.

He took it from her fingertips. “Oh, it’s warm.”

“It’s been in the warmer.”

He was chuckling this rich, deep sound that loosened her up even more. He had a great laugh. It was easy.

“Anything else?” he asked.

“Afraid not. Just some lumberjack’s money and lip gloss in there now. I’m low on goodies.”

“It’s the perfect purse.”

“And I never have to worry about color-coordinating with my outfit. So good.”

“Elite,” he agreed. “You full?” he asked, gesturing at the last bite of sandwich she was stalling on.

“A little,” she admitted.

He leaned over and took the bite from her, popped it in his mouth, and then told her, “You need to go talk to your cousin. Do it before the last round.”

“I don’t know if I want to be in a Crew,” she answered honestly.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m good. My life is set up and solid. I have a good job, I have Hallie, and I have my routine.”

“I get that. I was doing good on my own too.”

“Then why are you here?”

The smile faded from his lips. He stole his gaze away from her, looked at the bag of groceries, and rested his elbows on his knees. “It’s just time for a change.”

“If I was a shifter, would I hear the lie in your voice?” she asked, calling him out.

He was quiet for a few seconds, and then cast her a sideways glance. His eyes were darker now. “I’m here because my dad asked me to go for a Crew. I’m keeping a promise.”

“Oh.” She could tell by the sadness in his eyes that there was something bigger to that explanation, but for some reason, she was scared to dig deeper with him. Keeping it light and fun seemed natural, and she already liked him too much. Depth would make her fall too fast and make a fool of herself.

She offered them both an out. “I’m going to go talk to Gunner and Hallie and hear their pitch now.”

He nodded. “I’ll clean up the picnic.”

An instant grin confiscated her face as she looked around at their food. This was a makeshift picnic. She hadn’t done one of those in years, and never with a man.

“Mmm, time-out! Freeze.” She pulled up her phone and took a picture of him leaning over, midway through cleaning the mess they’d made. He had a questioning look on his face. Hot.

“Wait, are you taking a picture?”

“Yep. And don’t give me that, ‘I’m so shy and I don’t want people to see me without my shirt on,’” she murmured as she texted him the picture, and the video she’d taken of him while he was chopping wood. “These are perfect for your online dating profiles. I know how to make slideshows if you need one.”

“My online what?” he asked. It was cute how confused he looked, but she called bullpoop.

“Boy, there is no way you aren’t all over the internet, you are too fine. Stop playing.”

He frowned at the picture she’d sent him on his phone. “I don’t know how I feel about pictures of myself.”

“Would you like to flex? I can get a better angle.”

He huffed a laugh. “Woman, I don’t care about how I look. I don’t know about having…proof…I…”

“You what?”

He chewed the corner of his lip. “Proof I exist.”

She didn’t go speechless often, but that definitely left her without words.

They stayed like that, staring at each other, for five or six loaded seconds.

“Are you on the run?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“From police?”

“No.”

“From who?”

“From my people.”

“From your people,” she repeated softly, confused. “Another Crew?”

“You could say that.”

“What do they want from you?”

She could see the shutdown in his eyes. It was an instant thing. She’d pushed too far, and now he would give no more.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Okay,” she repeated, nodding. “We are friends, right?”

“Sure.” Even his tone was dead now.

“Friends don’t push each other. I will tell you something, and since you have superpowers, you will hear the truth in my tone, right?”

“Sure,” he said again, still dead-voiced.

“I won’t tell anyone the things you want to hide. Not even Hallie. I’ll take them to my grave, like a good friend.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at her.

So she decided to tell him something he could hurt her with. Corey knelt down in front of where he sat on that stack of firewood, and looked straight up into his glowing eyes as she said, “For the last five months, I have been scared. Hallie came to me on the run. Her ex was stalking her, and it was bad at the end.” She twitched her head toward the house. “I’m pretty sure her ex is in the belly of the dragon now.”

Ace’s face lost its hardness, just slightly.

“You are the only one I’ll ever tell that to. I’m supposed to have that human sympathy, but every night before bed, I pray to God and I thank him that her ex is dead, because she is safe now, and so am I. Going through something like that forms a bond between people. I am very protective of Hallie, and I get scared of losing her. Terrified, actually. That’s the real reason I feel like I’m losing ground with her. The shifters are taking her, and I’m still here with this bond from a traumatic experience, and I don’t want to be alone with it.”

Corey stood. “And now you know my secret. See ya later, stud.” She turned to leave. “Never put your shirt on again, those abs are something else.”

“My shirt is shredded in the woods,” he said, and she turned to him.

“From the fights?”

He nodded. “I don’t take my shirt off for attention.”

“I have. Mardi Gras, 2019. I wanted some beads, so I—”

“Corey.”

“Right. A story for another time.”

“Were you there?” he asked.

“Where?”

“When the dragon ate the ashes?”

“I saw it from my house. I saw him in the air blowing fire, and I got in my car and sped in that direction because I just had this feeling that my cousin was there in the path of the dragon…fuck.” Her eyes burned, and she shook her head hard. She’d gone over this. She’d coped. She swallowed hard. “I just knew she was under those flames. Felt it in my gut. Worst half an hour of my life,” she admitted.

He blew out a puff of air and hung his head. “Ask me again.”

“Ask you again?” she murmured, confused.

“Ask me your question about my old Crew.”

“Oh. What do they want from you?”

“If they find out I’m alive, they will want me to be their king.”

Chills rippled up her spine.

He stood, pulling the food up with him, and walked past her. “I’m going to give the others some food. Good luck in there with Gunner.”

She twisted around to watch him walk away. He didn’t look back, like a cool boy. Just left the mind grenade with her, and left.

King?

Who the hell was this man?