Chapter 6

6

S teel

I pace while I wait for the female to arrive. I turn abruptly when there is a knock at the door.

It’s more than likely her. Part of me wants to run instead of facing up to this. I mean, I had a plan: win some money, throw a few fights, and then win a lot of money on a huge bout where the odds were against me. Then retire on a shoestring budget and become a hermit.

My plans have gone to shit.

On the other hand, I have a chance to prove myself. A chance to make things right. I burn with that desire, even though I know deep inside it’s false. I will never be able to fix it. There is no fixing it. The only way would be to turn back the clock, which is an impossibility. I can protect my people, though. I need to make sure this human doesn’t escape. That she carries out her end of this crazy bargain she made with the general. I don’t care what she does or doesn’t do as long as the people of Mistveil are safe. Her decision to mate for money has nothing to do with me. As long as she never makes it to the Mainland, we’re golden. I will decide where I want to go from there. I’m not sure that being back in the Royal Guard is for me anymore. I’m sure that by the time I am done with this assignment, Roscoe will want me back. He will start looking for me soon enough. He’ll let me fight again, for sure. He can sweat it out in the coming weeks, and then he’ll be willing to do whatever I want as long as I’m back on the circuit. I’ve been a big drawcard for the crowds.

After blowing the last fight, I’m well on my way to better odds toward a retirement.

Except I hate the thought of fighting again. It was a means to an end, not actually something I enjoyed. Something that added meaning to my life. It doesn’t matter. I’ll do whatever I have to.

There is another knock. It jolts me out of my thoughts.

“Enter,” I say in a hard voice. I’m not in a particularly forgiving mood right now.

A male walks in carrying two bags. “Your things,” he says. “The general instructed us to clear out your apartment.”

A second male walks in with another duffel bag, which he puts down at my feet. “This is all of it,” he says.

Fuck!

My whole life is reduced to three duffel bags. Three shitty bags.

“Thanks,” I mutter. Apartment is pushing it since I live – or used to live - in a shitty single room with a tiny bathroom attached. At least I had my own space and didn’t have to share. My landlord would have thrown my things in the street by tomorrow, so I guess I should be grateful these two packed up for me. It’s not like I have anything to hide. It’s not like I have much of anything, full-fucking-stop.

No sooner have the two males left than there is another knock on the door. This time, they don’t wait to be invited in.

A female enters. I catch her scent instantly. It’s rainbows and fucking sunshine. Everything sweet, with cinnamon and sugar on top. I’m instantly irritated. There is nothing sweet about this female.

The males move to either side of the human, who glares at me. “What is this? Who are you? Wait a minute,” she looks taken aback, “are you one of them? One of the men I’m being introduced to, I mean?”

“Go!” I bark at the two males without taking my eyes off her. “Now.” I have zero authority over them, but they visibly start, dropping what they are carrying, and then they run like their asses are on fire. I still have it. A commanding presence. At least, that’s what I was told is my superpower. My ability to get others to do my bidding, to respect me even if they don’t want to.

“I’m not one of them…no. If by them, you mean one of the candidates you will choose to mate for money.” I can’t keep the disdain from my voice.

It doesn’t help that she is fucking flawless. I didn’t expect this. I thought I would feel total indifference to a puny human. Turns out I was wrong.

I hate it.

Her blonde hair is carelessly thrown into a ponytail; strands have come loose, framing her face. Her eyes are a striking winter blue. She isn’t wearing a lick of makeup, but a female like her doesn’t need it. She’s a natural beauty if I ever saw one.

She’s dressed in the standard uniform for the kitchen, laundry, and cleaning staff. It consists of navy blue pants and a matching top with the Mistveil logo on the right breast. It’s a look that doesn’t flatter most people, but on her, it’s somehow transformed into something almost stylish. The baggy shirt and too-long pants hug her curves in all the right places, accentuating her figure in a way that has my eyes flashing back to hers and irritation brewing inside me.

Good thing I have no interest in females, particularly ones like this. Conniving, greedy, and selfish are a few words that come to mind. Not to mention a complete fraud and con artist.

“Okay, Judgy McJudgster, who are you, then?” She looks at the bags at my feet and the ones at her feet. “What is this?”

Judgy McJudgster – what the fuck!? I ignore the comment.

“I’m going to be your shadow until you,” I shrug, “sell yourself, I guess.”

Her face turns red. Her jaw tightens, and she lifts her chin. She doesn’t like that. It’s a pity I don’t care what she likes and doesn’t like. I’m not here to make her life easy. I’m here to make sure she stays in line. I’ve always called a spade a spade, and if she doesn’t like it, I couldn’t give a shit.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she tells me, lifting a brow.

“Your escape attempt this morning sings a different tune. I’m it for your foreseeable future. You can get leaving this island right off your mind. It isn’t going to happen on my watch.”

“No way.” She shakes her head, and more strands of hair break free. “Forget about it. I object. I’ll take someone else, anyone else.” She knows I won’t fall for her shit. “I’m going to have a talk with…” She turns, runs, and makes a grab for the door, opening it a crack.

I bracket my hands on either side of her, slamming the door shut and caging her in. I don’t touch her.

The human turns, putting her back to the door, flattening herself against it. Getting as far away from me as she can get. Her big blue eyes are huge and focused on me.

“You don’t need to talk to anyone. I got my orders from the general. I told you, it’s you and me for a while.” I smile for a moment, but I’m sure it looks more like a grimace. I’m not in a smiley mood.

Her lip wobbles, and she bites down on it. Then her innocent-looking eyes fill with tears. They glisten. She blinks rapidly.

Fucking spare me!

She swallows; it’s slow and thick. She blinks some more. For a moment, I am tempted to back off and even to apologize. Damn! She’s good. The general was right. For just a second there, she almost had me fooled. Me! No way! Not happening.

I shake my head. “You can stop with the crocodile tears already. I saw you crying earlier, too.” I back away. “I didn’t believe you then, and I don’t believe you now.”

She narrows her eyes. “They’re not crocodile tears.”

“Right.” I snort, folding my arms. “You can object all you like but I don’t believe you, so you may as well save it.”

“I’m upset because I can’t go home like I wanted.” She bites her lip and takes in a deep breath, like she’s measuring her words. “I like Rex. I’m sorry he got into trouble. That he got hurt,” she mutters, looking down at the floor.

“I’ll bet.” I snort, not believing her for a single second.

Jen

I’ll bet!

What does that even mean?

Holy shit, he might be absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, but he is the biggest prick I have ever met in my life. What did I ever do to him?

I huff out a soft breath. Yeah, maybe it’s because I tried to escape and got Rex into trouble. Maybe he and Rex are good friends. Even if they aren’t friends, this guy was there. He witnessed what happened. Saw the carnage, and now he blames me, which makes sense. I am to blame.

Also, this asshole has been assigned to babysit me when I’m sure he has much better things to do with his time. He’s probably just as pissed as I am at this situation. Maybe he has a wife, kids, a life. Now he has to watch me twenty-four-seven, from the sounds of things. I guess I can’t blame him, although he could be nicer. Or less prickly, at the very least. This is next level. It’s like I did something to him personally, which I absolutely did not. I would remember him, that’s for sure.

You know what? I’m going to do my best to be nice to him. The nastier he gets, the nicer I’ll be. It’s not his fault he has this job. Having said that, if he thinks he can treat me like shit and walk all over me, he can think again, dammit. I’ll just have to find that delicate balance between being nice and not being a pushover.

Easy.

Impossible.

I have to try.

I have a feeling that attempting to escape again is going to be much harder. Crap! This sucks. I’m so torn. My family needs the money, which means that I should stay. I should see this through. There is a part of me that wants to get home regardless of the troubles we would face.

My eyes start to fill with tears all over again just thinking about them and this impossible situation, and Mr. Mean Asshole rolls his eyes.

“Stop with the drama already, Miss Harris.”

“My mother is Miss Harris. I’m Jen, or Jennifer, whichever you prefer.”

“I prefer Miss Harris. We are not going to be friends.”

“Lovers, then,” I let slip. I’m not even sure where that came from. Just as suspected, he reacts badly. His whole body tightens, and not in a good way.

“Let’s get something straight right now—”

I roll my eyes and hold up a hand. “I was joking. It was in bad taste. Let’s drop it.”

He makes this noise that tells me he’s annoyed. “No jokes. No anything between us. I am the guard, and you are my prisoner. It will be strictly professional at all times. We’re not going to have chitchats. You are going to do exactly as I say when I say it. If you attempt to escape, I will spank your ass until you scream,” he growls the last, looking angry.

I snort-laugh. Did he really just threaten to spank me using such a serious tone?

“Kinky,” I retort, knowing he didn’t mean it like that at all. I wish my mouth would stop moving already. But, if I’m honest, he did walk straight into that one. Spank me? Really? I wouldn’t put it past him or any of them.

His jaw tightens again. “No flirting. It won’t work on me, Miss Harris. So, you can stop already.”

It won’t work on him. What won’t work? I wasn’t even trying to flirt. I let it go and nod. “Got it, Mr. Grey.” I wink at him in a way that isn’t flirting…I hope.

He narrows his eyes. “What are you talking about? Where did you get that name?”

He must be joking. He doesn’t look like the kidding type. Not at all.

I frown at him. “You don’t watch much television, I take it?”

“I don’t have time for such pleasantries; some of us have to work.”

“I work too,” I snap. “Everyone saw that movie,” I mutter the last.

“Not everyone.”

“You clearly live under a rock.”

“This conversation has gone on for too long. Steel,” he says like I should understand what the hell he is talking about.

I frown some more; at this rate, I’m going to need Botox early. I wait a few beats, but he just stands there, so I ask, “Steal what? What are you talking about?” He’s a strange one.

He sighs, closes his eyes, and puts his thumb and pointer fingers into the corners for a moment, like he can’t take me for much longer.

Tough luck!

He needs to suck it up.

“Use your words.” I clear my throat. “Please.” I smile. “That would be really awesome.”

He growls low. Holy shit, but it’s sexy, which irritates me because he is such a huge asshole. He isn’t allowed to be sexy, and I refuse to be attracted to him in any way. Assholes are decidedly not sexy.

He frowns. Then frowns some more, reminding me of…me. “It’s my name,” he says like I’m an idiot. I guess I should have known that. It makes sense.

“Oh!” I smile. “I see! Steel…not steal.” I snort-laugh and then quickly catch myself when I see how angry he looks. “It suits you. Steel, like the shiny hard metal. I mean, you’re big and all muscly.” I look him up and down, gesturing with my hands. I note how unimpressed he looks. “Don’t you get the correlation? Steel? As in cold and hard like all of you…including your heart.”

I high-five myself for doing such a good job of being extra nice to him. He doesn’t have to be so mean. He could be indifferent. Indifferent I can take. This… This is something else.

“Cute.” He looks like he hates me. I think he does hate me. Why? “Actually, I’m named after my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. I could go on.”

Crap! I put down his family name. Way to get on his good side.

“It’s a good name. It suits you. I mean that in a nice way.” I sound insincere. I’m panicking here.

His jaw tightens again…some more. I’m not too sure which it is. He looks pissed. Then he walks around me and locks the door, pocketing the key. I take note of all the ink on his back. It’s broad. It’s freaking beautiful. It’s not a tattoo of a dragon, as expected. So many shifters have them. Even Steel has a dragon on one of his pecs. His back is covered in the most intricate pair of feathered wings spread wide, each feather detailed with such precision it almost looks real. I can’t help but stare, completely captivated by the artwork.

Down his spine are letters. I think it’s Latin. I’m staring when he turns around, his eyes narrowing with annoyance when he catches me…looking.

I’m not checking him out.

“Don’t you own a shirt?” I blurt. “If we’re going to be…living together, you need to make sure you wear clothes. I mean, next, you’ll be walking around in your boxers…or your jocks, and we can’t have that. I mean, you don’t want me walking around half-naked, do you? It wouldn’t be right. It…um…”

Shut up, Jen!

Shut up.

What am I doing? What am I even saying?

I have a feeling that the next few weeks are going to seem like an eternity. I need to get on his good side so that my life can be bearable. I mean, we have to live together for a while. He used the term shadow in relation to me. It will be tough if my shadow hates me…because he does hate me. And very much.

I need to stay on this island. I need to go through with the mating. My family needs the money.

Looks like I’m stuck with this jerk. I smile, and he glowers back. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this angry before.

Great. This is just great.