Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

I finished making the bed I'd been sleeping in alone for more than a week now. I wasn't sure where Kicks was sleeping, but it wasn't with me. Not that I blamed him. I wouldn't have wanted to sleep next to me either. I just wished I knew where he was spending his nights. I'd ask Jaysa or Widow Herbert if they could find out, but they were both avoiding me, too.

"Piper? Are you walking me to school?" Charlie asked, standing in the bedroom door, his backpack sitting on the floor beside him.

"Of course I am. I didn't realize what time it was," I said, glancing at the clock.

I slipped on my boots and paused by the front door, spotting Kicks cleaning up the plates from breakfast. Every morning he'd slip back in after spending the night somewhere else. We'd nod or say a few words, pretending there was nothing odd about it.

"Let's go, Charlie," I said, leading him outside. The chill of the morning air matched my current mood.

We started our short walk, with the pack keeping their distance from me. They weren't throwing stones, so things were going better than they might've. It hadn't been that long since Zetti's death. I couldn't expect a miracle, but at the same time, I had a feeling it wasn't going to improve. At least their feelings didn't seem to be bleeding over onto Charlie.

If they caught his eyes, they'd smile in greeting. Then that smile would quickly fade as their eyes rose to mine.

If it wasn't for walking Charlie to school every day, I'd avoid the pack altogether, whether it was the right thing to do or not. But he liked my walking him to school, so I did. I was beginning to wonder if he was just trying to get me out of the house.

We got to the little schoolhouse, and Charlie ran ahead, already mixing in with the kids like he'd known them for years. He belonged here now. He was one of them. Even though I was a guide, I'd never fit in this place with the deaths that clung to every mention of my name. At some point, I'd have to leave, and probably alone. The harsh truth was that I wasn't helping Charlie have a good life. I was preventing him from fully integrating into this pack. I was like a black mark on his otherwise stellar resumé. A ding in his brand-new car.

I turned to head back to my self-enforced isolation, away from the curious and judgmental eyes. My last place of peace in a place full of suspicion.

I could see Rastin watching me, heading over to the cabin with a determined step. He got there first and waited.

"Let's have a chat," he said.

"Sure," I replied with absolutely no enthusiasm in my voice. That wouldn't be anything to deter Rastin. He was too thick-skinned to be averted by subtleties. Even a stern Go to hell didn't usually work.

I'd barely walked inside when he launched into his diatribe.

"There's two kinds of people in this world. You've got your ride-or-die and then your joy ride. Your joy ride is in it for the good times, but as soon as the bike breaks down, they're hopping on with someone else while you're bent over a flat at the side of the road. It's fine to have a little fun with the joy rides, but you know what you're getting. Then you've got your ride-or-die. Those—"

"I'm aware of what a ride-or-die is. What I don't get is the point of this conversation. Are you bored? Will no one talk to you here? You know, if you just tried to be a little less abrasive, you'd make friends a little easier." Unlike myself. There was no redeeming my social status in this pack.

He cleared his throat, making a point of ignoring my comments. "The point of this conversation is you don't seem to understand the value of ride-or-die people. I might not always see eye to eye with Kicks, but that man is ride-or-die. You don't walk away from someone like him. If he's willing to ride or die with you, you stick it out."

Rastin might be smarter than people gave him credit for, but no way could he read my mind. This was not a conversation I was willing to have with anyone. If and when I left, I was doing it alone this time.

"I'm sorry, but I'm still not seeing your point." I walked over to the table, but Kicks had already cleared it. The sink was also empty. Damn. He'd left me no distractions from this horrible conversation?

"You think I can't see the urge to flee in your eyes? You hung on with a death grip at a pack that was a dead end. Now you're looking to run for the hills when you've got people who are willing to back you?"

I walked into the living room, determined to find something else to do. "First off, I'm not looking to run for the hills—"

"Save it. You're barely hanging on, and it's very clear. We couldn't drag you out of Groza's—"

I spun on him so fast he nearly jumped back. "And look how that turned out. Look how I ended up leaving. I'm not doing that again. It was a mistake."

"Staying there was a mistake, but that doesn't mean you should run from here. Can't you see the difference?" He was nearly pleading, as if he saw his friend about to make a huge mistake.

"Difference? Yes. Other than Groza and Duncan, the rest of the pack liked me there. Here I'm a pariah." He didn't get it either. My being here wasn't good for anyone.

"Fine. They aren't exactly embracing you, but Kicks has your back, and leaving him is a mistake."

None of them saw it. Or they didn't want to. There was something wrong with me. Maybe a human never should've been made into a guide for a reason. There was something wrong in me, and I could sense it. I'd felt it ever since Zetti died. Something dark and twisted had planted a seed within me, and it wasn't going away.

"What if staying here is a death sentence for him?" It was the most honest thing I could say to Rastin.

"It won't," he said, refusing to acknowledge the threat I was becoming.

"Rastin, I'm not the girl you first met that you took out of New York." I didn't want to own it myself, but at some point, we'd all have to accept it.

"Stop that. Of course you are. Hey, it's not as if you kill the people you like ," he said.

I didn't laugh. He mustered up only a smile, not even laughing at his own joke.

"Sorry. Too soon?"

"Yes. Now if you don't mind, I'm already in a bad mood." I waved toward the door.

"Does this mean you're done with the conversation?" Rastin asked.

"Wow, you're quick today."

Kicks walked into the cabin and nodded at Rastin, who was heading for the door. "Stay. I need to talk to you."

Guy was going to get a crick in his neck with my telling him to go and Kicks making him stay.

"What's up?" Rastin asked, already sounding guilty.

Shit. What had he done now? I couldn't leave him hanging out there alone if it was bad. He'd had my back against Groza and protected me after I appeared to kill some little old lady. Bottom line was, after someone did things like that, it didn't matter much what else they did.

"You need to slow it down or limit the numbers. It's causing me grief," Kicks said, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the couch.

Huh? What the hell was he talking about?

"With all due respect, you're my alpha, not my nursemaid. I'm a full-grown shifter with needs," Rastin said. His words might've sounded tough, but his tone was toeing the line.

I should've guessed this was the issue. Rastin did like to get around, even if it could become problematic.

"I don't care if you bang a new female every night, but I've got fights breaking out. You couldn't at least give it a day in between?" Kicks' tone was harsh. He might've asked a question, but it didn't seem like he wanted an answer.

"That situation wasn't my fault. I was messing around with one, and the other joined in. If they didn't like the situation, they shouldn't have started it," Rastin said, shrugging but looking sheepish. "Who has a threesome if you're the jealous type? I say that's on them."

I backed farther toward the kitchen, afraid of drawing attention to myself if I started to laugh.

"However it's happening, you need to slow it down or smooth it out. I don't want to have to clean up the messes you're making. Do you understand?" Kicks' eyes bored into Rastin. "I don't need more problems right now."

Yeah, he had his hands full with the ones I was causing. I wasn't sure if Rastin picked up on that, but Kicks' gaze shot toward me, as if he knew he'd slipped up.

Rastin shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I can't help it if I need more sex than—"

"Don't finish that sentence." Kicks was staring like he'd take Rastin out at the knees if he said another word.

It didn't matter. We all knew what Rastin was going to say. Anyone could fill in the blanks.

He stood there for another moment, as if unsure what to do. Even he seemed aware he'd crossed the line.

"Go," Kicks said, giving a pointed look toward the door.

"See you, Rastin," I said, making sure he knew we were good despite his playboy ways and earlier unwanted conversation. He wasn't always appropriate, but he wasn't intentionally mean.

Actually, sometimes he was. Whatever . He was still my friend.

As Rastin left, Kicks shifted his gaze to me, his eyes softening. "I didn't mean that toward you."

"The ‘any more problems'? Yeah, you did," I said, crossing my arms. It was true, but that didn't soothe the sting.

I went into the kitchen, once again trying to find something to busy myself with to avoid yet another unpleasant conversation.

It didn't work this time either, as he followed me.

"We should take a walk tonight, get around the pack," he said.

"No. I'm good." I walked past him into Charlie's room, remembering the bed was unmade. I just needed to stall until Kicks left. It wasn't like he'd be here all night. I wasn't sure where he went, but he wasn't here.

He followed, leaning against the doorjamb. "You have to get out of this cabin more and let them see you."

I kept my attention on the bed but couldn't stop myself from asking, "Is that what you're doing when you leave here every night? Letting them see you?" My voice came out sharper than intended.

He jerked his head back, having the gall to look surprised. "I thought what I was doing was giving you space, since you clearly want to be alone."

"What happened to the whole spiel about wanting to present a good image for your pack? I guess that doesn't matter anymore as long as you have a warm bed."

"I'm not sleeping with anyone here. I'm not sleeping with anyone ," he said, his voice rising.

"Well, if you wanted to give me space, you'd be on the couch. Not missing every night, making it look like even my mate thinks I'm a killer." I threw Charlie's pillow on the bed before walking out of the room and trying not to touch Kicks as I passed him.

"I didn't want to make Charlie concerned," he said, following me.

"Sure. This is about Charlie ," I replied, rolling my eyes.

"I'd gladly sleep in your bed, but I'm not welcome there," he said. "Even if I proved to you that wasn't the case, you'd put this wall up anyway, and we both know it." He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine. "You jumped in with Duncan with both feet, and now you're so afraid that no one can even get close to you."

"I didn't realize you were trying to get close to me when you were crawling into Louise's bed." I knew she was willing and waiting.

"I'm not sleeping with Louise, not that I shouldn't after you told me we're nothing more than a business relationship," he said, his voice growing lower and more intense.

"You said you wouldn't embarrass me in front of the pack, or did you forget that?" I turned, heading toward the bedroom, my anger growing so thick and hot I was afraid to be near anyone, even him. I went to slam the door, but he was there, his hand stopping it from closing.

"I haven't ."

"Then where are you going every night?" I yelled, not caring if every shifter in the pack could hear me.

"I'm sleeping in the mill."

"Sure you are." I tried to slam the door again, but he'd planted his foot along it.

"I was trying to give you space, but I'll sleep here if that's what you want."

"Don't do me any favors." I grabbed the door, shoving with all my might.

He stepped back, his hands up in surrender. "Fine."

"Fine," I said, finally getting to slam the door, but it didn't make me feel a whit better.