Chapter 29: Jamie

29

JAMIE

“Y ou don’t live in the packhouse?”

Dean turns back to face me with a frown when I come to a stop at the bottom of the steps. “You know that I don’t.”

He’s smart. I figured that out when the girls were encouraging him to dance with a strange she-wolf. If Lynn is living in the alpha suite, he’s not living with her. He doesn’t carry more than a passing trace of her scent. I wouldn’t have let him touch me otherwise.

“Don’t you like being around your wolves?”

Wolves are pack animals. Typically, they live together until they start a family. Even then, they rarely venture far from the rest of their pack. That’s why being made to live as a rogue is such a cruel punishment, generally reserved for the most heinous of crimes.

Not for children, who’ve done nothing except have their mother torn away from them by her new mate.

“No, that house doesn’t hold many fond memories for me. And I like my own space.”

Oh.

For a moment, I don’t move, debating how much of a fuss to kick up, as he opens the front door and holds it open for me to enter. My wolf is eager to check out his den. The large but not obnoxious log cabin in front of me has a long wraparound porch, and a view of the lake that’s indescribable. In any other situation, I’d be practically giddy to sit out here with a book, and a hot mug of tea.

“Then why are you letting me stay here?” I ask, a small, pathetic part of me hoping he’ll say something sweet, something to get us back to the closeness we had this morning. That’s the Dean I want to see again.

But as he stares at me, all alpha, his jaw set in a hard line, the reality of my situation dawns. I don’t have a choice. If I wasn’t injured, I think he’d pick me up and carry me inside kicking and screaming.

“You don’t want me back at the packhouse with the others, because you don’t want me asking questions. And because they’ll scent you all over me.”

Dean doesn’t answer, but I see his jaw working, grinding his back teeth to dust as I stubbornly keep my feet rooted to the spot. “You’re making it sound worse than it is. I’m trying to protect you.”

“It doesn’t feel like that.”

He takes a step toward me, before groaning with exasperation and pointing to the door again. “Please, Jamie.”

With a sigh, I give in, my curiosity getting the better of me. I think back to the staged office in the packhouse and the alpha suite he lets his friend live in. Nothing I’ve seen so far has helped me get any insight into the real Dean, but this place seems to be different.

I take in the potted flowers, the Adirondack chairs pointed toward the view of the lake, the small table, perfect for eating outside. There are lanterns of all different heights set back in the corners. It must be stunning to sit out here in the evening and watch a sunset. With the lanterns lit, it would be romantic.

“Fine. But you better have food.”

Dean raises both eyebrows in disbelief at my brazenness. “The one thing I always have, little rogue, is food.”

My stomach rumbles loudly, and amusement dances in his eyes as I trudge up the steps. I’ll let him feed me, get a hot shower and some clean clothes, and take a nap. He can’t keep me trapped here forever.

“That was easier than I expected,” he comments dryly as I pass.

“I’m tired, and I’m hungry. If I had more energy to fight with you, I would.” I scowl and glare at him over my shoulder, delighted when his cheeks pink, caught staring at my ass.

JAMIE: Wyatt, I’m back at Dean’s to get some food and a shower. I hope you’re taking it easy and getting ready for round two

WYATT: Are you okay? Do you need me to come over?

I steal a glance at Dean, his eyes glazed over as he mind-links his pack. His leadership team has probably been doing his bidding all morning, but apparently, it’s none of my business.

JAMIE: No. I’m going to get some sleep and rest. I’ll see you later.

The last thing I need is for Wyatt to realise something happened between us. He’ll kick up a fuss and get himself disqualified. It’s best to let him concentrate on the competition.

Dean pours me a glass of water and hands it over, careful not to touch me.

“So, what happened to Joel and Samuel then?” I ask. I think back to his angry demand to know who hurt me and my insides coil tight. His protective, possessive side does funny things to me. This dismissive, domineering side, not so much.

“Oh, now you’re interested,” he says, pointing to the sofa and expecting me to sit. “We have Joel, and Samuel won’t get far.”

When I stubbornly remain on my feet, he gives me a stern look, speaking over his shoulder as he disappears down the hall.

I wander around his large open plan living area, breathing in his intoxicating scent. It’s warm and inviting, and lived in, like a real home. I can’t resist touching everything.

Part of me expected more cold and sterile furnishings. I’m slightly stunned to see a sideboard filled with photographs of various members of the pack. As my tired brain tries to reconcile these two sides to him, exhaustion washes over me.

My knees wobble, almost buckling beneath me, telling me it’s time for a nap now, snooping later.

“I have to deal with the contestants who couldn’t finish the course, work out who gets to stay and who goes home. But it won't take too long.”

He’s making it sound like I’m a house guest rather than a prisoner.

I know Dean knows who I am. I saw it in his eyes when I asked if Maggie was still alive. And still, he didn’t put me out of my misery and tell me what happened to her, making me even more convinced she’s still here.

“Can I go for a run?” I ask, trying to look as innocent as I can.

Dean scoffs, like my request is so ridiculous, so preposterous, I may as well have asked if I could fly to the moon. “Eh, no. Your body needs to heal.”

I wanted to shift on the walk home, or at least attempt to, so we could get back faster. Dean told me, point blank, he’d rescind his offer to let me stay here if I even thought about running on all fours.

I roll my eyes, but as I stumble toward his couch, I’ll reluctantly concede that he may be right. I’d never have made it the entire way if he’d let me push myself.

“You’ll be safe here. Nobody will bother you,” he says, placing a remote control on the side table.

“Safe or trapped?” I mutter.

His words stick in my brain, wrapping around me like a hug, as I sink into the soft cushions and let my body relax.

Nobody will bother you.

My limbs practically melt into the comfortable seat, and I sigh happily, letting my eyelids fall shut. The longer I sit there, the more flashbacks I get of last night. Dean carrying me in his arms, my cheek pressing against his bare chest.

Kind words and soft touches. Promises he’d take care of me.

He’s like two different people. One minute, he’s promising me safety and warmth. The next he’s angry at me for getting injured and acting shady when I ask the questions any reasonable person would.

My head hurts just from trying to figure him out, so I’m not going to bother.

He loves his pack, and he’s a good alpha, but he’s still a liar. He says everything he does is for his wolves, but how is keeping a mother from her children protecting anyone?

Letting my head flop back, I stare out the huge picture window at the shimmering lake. It looks calm and serene once more, and with every second that passes, I feel the fear I was holding on to dissipate.

Joel and Samuel aren’t brave enough to come here. Wyatt’s fine. I have a warm bed and food to eat.

“Towels.” Dean appears back in the doorway, stripped down to the waist, and with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. He drops two fluffy towels on the sideboard. He resumes brushing, and there’s something oddly intimate about it as he holds my gaze.

He ducks back into what must be the bathroom before reappearing and gesturing for me to follow.

I haul myself off the most comfortable couch in the world and follow him, trying my best not to stare at the way the muscles in his back flex with each step. It’s a shame really. I gave him a chance to do the right thing, to be honest with me. But he’s shown me his true character.

He points down the dimly lit hallway. “Your bedroom and ensuite. There’s a shower in there, or you can use my bath. Take whatever you want. Lynn dropped off your clothes, and I’ve left some baggy stuff here that might be easier to get into.”

Even though I’ve decided Dean Reynold’s is going to regret lying to me, my wolf is still smitten. He’s being the perfect host, even if he only wants me here so I can’t cause trouble. Is this what Stockholm syndrome feels like?

“Breakfast is in the kitchen. It might need to be heated up,” he continues, crossing to a chest of drawers and pulling on a clean T-shirt. I can almost see his temper rising, steam practically coming out of his ears as he dresses. “I’ll be back when I’ve dealt with this.”

Is the this that he’s talking about the competition, or me getting too close to the truth?

“It’s not my fault someone tried to kill me.”

He stops what he’s doing, muscles going taut.

“You’re right, none of this is your fault. And I’m sorry you’re suffering the consequences.”

Stunned, I stare at him as he moves around, gathering what he needs. Is this mercurial temperament how he has everyone fooled? He can be both charming and infuriating at the same time.

When he walks out, I stand in the doorway and watch him putting on his boots, struggling with my feelings. I want him and hate him all at the same time. It’s torture.

“I want to come with you when you speak with Joel and Samuel.”

Dean’s posture stiffens, and he growls, low and quiet, but the rumble is unmistakable. My demand is not appreciated.

“No. He hurt you, Jamie. I can’t…” Dean presses his fingers to his eyes and takes a deep breath to compose himself before lifting his eyes to meet mine. “Absolutely not. Or at least, not yet.”

I glare at him as he ties his laces. He’s humouring me. He has no intention of letting me anywhere near Samuel. His wolf is far too protective.

“That’s not fair. I should be allowed to speak to him. I’m the only one who’ll know if he’s lying.” If I got the chance to dole out some punishment, I wouldn’t say no to that either. “Or do you have a basement full of wolves you don’t want anyone to see?”

Dean’s hands stop moving, just for a second, before he finishes lacing his boots and pushes to his feet. Maybe he does.

“I’ll mention your request to Alpha Steel when I see him.”

I stare at him, trying to work out if he’s serious or baiting me. “Don’t pretend this is his call. It’s your territory, your rules, remember? You had a whole speech. You can do whatever you want.”

Huffing, I find my new room, trying to disguise my delight at the massive walk-in shower and giant tub. Suddenly anxious to get clean, I stare down at my over-sized borrowed clothes, unsure how I’m going to do this.

Only when I attempt to pull my T-shirt over my head one handed, do I realise how hard it is. Getting them on seemed much easier.

Dean saunters back in, looking handsome, and oh so smug. He watches me struggle for a minute before I give up, a panting, flustered mess, with even wilder hair than before.

Dean crosses to me, rotating his finger in the air, gesturing for me to face the wall. “Turn around.”

I do as I’m told and give him my back, his presence putting every sense on high alert.

“I can’t wait to get clean.” I’m practically giddy at the prospect of standing under the warm water for a few minutes. I bet the spray is nice and strong.

Dean’s fingers brush my sides and skim down my waist ever so lightly, before he catches the hem of my borrowed T-shirt. Bunching it up in his hands, he slowly peels it up and over my head, mindful of my injured shoulder.

I lift my arms to let the fabric slide off but quickly press one across my chest to cover my breasts.

He stays behind me. Suddenly, he’s in no hurry to leave.

His warm breath fans across the back of my neck. When he takes a deep inhale and sighs, my belly swoops low and tightens, a warmth pooling low in my core. I’m naked again, apart from his shorts, and feel completely exposed, like he can hear my every thought.

“It’s a shame. I kind of liked you covered in my scent.”

You can’t trust him, I remind myself. He’s just going to hurt you, but my body doesn’t care. Instead, I stand there, waiting to see if he’s going to touch me again. Or scent me. There’s something so erotic about it.

His finger trails down the length of my spine and toys with the hem of my shorts. I stop breathing, my heart pounding.

Dean leans closer, and I feel the scratch of his stubble on my shoulder as he speaks, low and ragged, against my skin. “You tempt me like no other.”

His chest brushes my bare back, and I close my eyes, biting back a moan as he moves his lips next to my ear, letting his hot breath tickle that spot right at the top of my neck. One finger slides down my back, travelling from between my shoulder blades, all the way to the base of my spine, just inside the waistband.

Is he going to help me out of my shorts too? Do I want him to?

I stay frozen to the spot as he pulls away, leaving me bereft once more. And pissed off at how easily he affects me.

"Don't go anywhere, Jamie. I'll be home in a few hours, and we need to talk."

Home.

Closing my eyes, I count to ten as he leaves the room without another word. The door to my room closes, and footsteps cross the long hallway. I only suck in a ragged deep breath when I hear his footsteps in the living room and then the front door slamming shut.

Fuck. I want to hate him. I know he’s lying to me, but he makes it so hard. I reach out one hand to steady myself and close my eyes, pressing my heated forehead to the cool tiles.

My brain is still trying to figure out if that really happened when I hear a series of beeps and a loud clunk.

No. No he hasn’t.

I race to the living room, with my modesty only covered by my arm, and run straight to the front door, rattling the handle. Dean doesn’t look back as he strides confidently down the path.

“You fucker!” I shout.

Dean doesn’t flinch, even though he can hear me pounding on the door with my fist.

I might be trapped, but he’s going to pay for this.