Chapter 42

Forty-Two

IZZY

J ake hasn’t left his room in days.

I don’t know what to say to him, how to help him. Hell, I don’t even know if he wants to be helped. His entire life was altered irrevocably in a span of seconds.

Isn’t it funny how everything can change within a blink of an eye? It doesn’t seem fair. Surely, there should be some sort of buildup, some sort of gradual progression before shit hits the metaphorical fan.

I still haven’t heard from Grayson, and Ansel has been…

He hasn’t taken the news of what he is well.

He still attends class, but he’s a shell of his former self, his eyes dull and the skin beneath them marred by purple bruises. Whenever I try to speak to him, he’s cordial, but there’s a gap between us that didn’t exist previously. I don’t know what caused it or how to fix it.

Maybe it’s the fact that I kept my knowledge of the supernatural world from him. Maybe it’s because he didn’t tell me about his powers. Or maybe it’s a culmination of everything, and neither of us knows how to handle it.

One thing’s for certain—I’m floundering.

I close my locker after the last class of the day and place my head against the cool metal. Tomorrow, I’ll be traveling with Christian to a wolfy barbecue. How has this become my life?

But today…

Today I just want to sleep and forget all of my troubles.

I’m aware of him before I even see him. It starts with a tingling sensation across the nape of my neck that branches outwards, engulfing me in a prickling type of heat. The tiny hairs on both of my arms stand straight up, and a flush works its way down my cheeks and to my neck.

Reid.

I don’t know how I know it’s him, only that I do. It must be that damn mating bond or whatever it is.

I haven’t seen Reid in…who the fuck knows how long. I think the last time was at work, before the accident. He hasn’t attended class since then, and I can’t help but wonder if I have a part to play in that. A part of me misses his nonverbal grunts during art class.

And I wish to light that part of me on fire.

I spin around, and sure enough, Reid is standing directly behind me, a scowl on his face and his huge arms folded over his chest.

He grunts something noncommittally and then jerks his chin towards the front entrance of the school. “Come.”

Come?

I gape at him and then ball my hands in anger. “Come? Are you kidding me? I’m not a damn dog.”

He frowns. “Come…please?”

His gruff voice falters over that one word, as if he hasn’t used it often—or at all. I can’t imagine he would have a need to.

Before everything went down with Michelle, he was the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen in my life. He probably had girls begging to follow him like besotted puppies. And then, when he changed, he would just have to level an icy glare at someone, and they’ll immediately do his bidding.

But if he thinks he can tell me to jump, I’m going to respond with a “fuck you.” He can jump straight off a cliff for all I care.

Still, curiosity gets the better of me, and I find myself trailing along after him. “Um…did you need something?”

He scowls at nothing in particular. No…wait…not nothing. His gaze is latched on the disgusted face of a classmate of ours.

I glare at the kid as well, and he immediately looks away, his cheeks red.

“Need to talk.” Reid absently begins to pick at the skin on his arm, tugging at a pimple until it bleeds. He frowns down at it and then lowers his hand back to his side. “Come on.”

Reid wants to talk to me?

The cynical part of me wonders if he plans to take me to the middle of the woods and murder me, but that’s more Ashton’s MO. Reid seems more…straightforward. Like, if he wanted me dead, my brain would be splattered across the locker by now.

Not that I think Reid would ever hurt me.

There’s a lot I don’t know, but I am certain that none of the guys will harm me. Physically, at least. Mentally is a completely different matter.

I drove in with Ansel today now that he has his car back—the most awkward fifteen minutes of my life—but he has a student Council meeting for the next hour. I’d planned to just wait in the library and get homework done beforehand.

Apparently Reid has other plans.

I shoot a quick text to Ansel, letting him know I’m with Reid—though I don’t expect him to see it until after his meeting is over—and then quicken my pace, two of my steps equaling one of Reid’s. The man is a literal giant. I don’t know what the fuck he’s been eating, but it’s working for him. Must be all those Wheaties.

Reid stops in front of a sleek, black bike. I know absolutely nothing about motorcycles, but even motionless, this baby looks fast.

“You good to ride?” he grunts out, offering a helmet and jacket to me.

The jacket itself looks as if it can fit two of me.

I’ve never ridden a motorcycle before, but I can’t say I’m against it. Though…

“You’re not taking me somewhere to murder me, are you? I dismissed that idea before, but now, I’m not too sure.” I’m only half joking. Kind of. Sort of.

Reid stares at me as if he wishes to reach into my brain and pluck out what brain cells remain. I don’t know whether or not I should be offended or amused.

“Just get on.”

I roll my eyes but slip the jacket on. As expected, it swallows me whole. I have to roll the sleeves up multiple times just to have use of my hands.

Reid frowns down at me, then steps forward, reaches for the zipper, and tugs it up. His hand grazes my breast for a fraction of a second, and my breath hitches. His own body turns still. Something undefinable flares in his hazel eyes—the color more muddy than green today—and he takes a hasty step backwards.

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

Is he blushing?

No. It must be just a trick of the lighting.

I shake off the strange, lingering sensation and focus on what’s important. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

His lips twitch but don’t form into a full-fledged smile. “You ask that now? After you’ve already agreed to go with me?”

I wave a hand in the air. “I think I’m a little bit insane, to be honest. But I…” After licking my suddenly dry lips, I confess, “I trust you.”

Shock widens his eyes, though that emotion is quickly chased away by something akin to awe. Then both of those emotions dissipate, replaced by his usual indifference.

“It’s the mate bond,” he murmurs gruffly, frowning. “It makes us…well… It’s in your DNA to trust us and vice versa.”

My nose wrinkles. “I really don’t like the sound of that.”

“You can leave if you want to,” Reid tells me. “But I have something to show you.”

“Is it a dead body?”

“Um…no?” Reid gives me a strange look. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

My lips tick up before I force them into a straight line. “I really should say no and turn around.”

Isn’t that the truth.

“But?” Reid arches one eyebrow.

A strand of greasy red hair falls forward, and he pushes it away impatiently.

“But I meant what I said before. I trust you—whether it’s because of this damn mate bond or not.” I shudder. “Seriously, this thing is creepy. Isn’t there a way to remove it or something?”

Once again, Reid’s expression turns unreadable, though his eyes flash with a myriad of emotions. “You want to remove the mate bond?”

“I thought that was what we all wanted?” I ask, confused.

He opens and closes his mouth, frowns, and then shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. His jaw clenches. “Yeah. Remove it.”

“But I am curious what you want to show me,” I confess. “You know what they say—curiosity killed the cat.”

“Are you comparing yourself to a cat now?”

I shrug. “Maybe I am. After all, I am surrounded by meat-headed wolves.”

“I never knew meathead could be an adjective.”

“Shut up.” I grab the helmet out of his hands and slip it on.

It instantly makes me feel unbalanced, like I have five hundred pounds on my shoulders.

Reid watches me struggle with amusement sparkling in his hazel eyes.

Once again, I say, “Shut up,” and push past him towards the bike. Then something occurs to me, and I spin towards him. “Where are your helmet and jacket?”

The amusement fizzles out of Reid’s eyes. He shrugs, an eloquent, one-shouldered gesture that almost makes words unnecessary. “Don’t need one.”

“I know you’re a badass wolf shifter and all, but I’m pretty sure your brain can still go splat.”

He lets out a breath, as if all of my comments are irritating him. Well, good.

“Come on.” He swings a leg over the bike.

“But…”

“Izzy.” His tone holds a note of warning.

Grumbling under my breath about stupid, idiotic, impulsive wolf shifters, I settle on the bike directly behind him. I have no idea where to put my arms or legs. The last thing I want to do is be flush against him, but I also don’t want to take a tumble off the motorcycle either.

Fortunately, I don’t have to ponder this question for long.

With sure movements, Reid grabs my knees and forces me forward until the front of my chest is against his back and my knees are on the outside of his thighs. My hands instinctively move around his torso until they’re clutching the shirt over his stomach. He gives my hands a squeeze, and fireflies flutter to life in my belly.

“Hang on,” he warns me, and his tone sounds huskier than normal.

“Just so you know, I told Ansel who I was with, so if I come back murdered, then he’ll know it was you.”

I don’t need to see his face to know he’s smiling. “If you were murdered, you wouldn’t come back at all.”

“Ghosts don’t exist?” I try to tilt my head to the side but forget I’m wearing the damn helmet and nearly fall off the bike.

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” He revs the engine. “Hold on. And whatever you do, don’t let go.”