21. Chapter Twenty-One

Iwoke up, gasping, looking around my dark office wildly for some sort of danger. A moment later, I realized there was nothing there, then groaned as I leaned over my desk again. I'd woken up with a headache, my head throbbing in pain.

I should have drunk some water. Stupid.

I checked the time and groaned. It was three in the morning. I was still tired, and the bar had been closed for three hours.

What woke me up? The dehydration headache?

I got up slowly and stretched, yawning again as I tried to make a plan of action. Stress and dehydration were problems one and two. The fact I was so tired was problem number three.

Nothing I can do about the stress. Water, ibuprofen, then back to sleep, I guess.

I headed downstairs, another yawn punctuating the situation. I was at the bottom of the staircase when warning bells went off in my head, and paranoia hit.

What woke me up? I had woken up in a panic. Why?

The bar was dark and quiet. I sniffed the air and frowned. Kick Shot was one of the worst places for my nose—too many scents of alcohol, food, cleaner, and the patrons who had been there during the evening before.

I walked slowly into the kitchen, hoping to get the glass of water I wanted, then lock myself back in my office. I found a clean glass and turned on the tap. The running water was loud, making my head pound harder.

Something creaked and made me turn slightly, angling myself to hear the noise better if it happened again. My hearing was so sensitive in the quiet night, I could hear the water in the pipes and the night breeze hitting the trees. One of the first things I had to learn as a werecat was how to tune out the background noise and find the important sounds. It wasn't something I worried about anymore, naturally focusing on noises out of place. Normally, a building creak wasn't something I worried about—if I did, I would never sleep again—but Kick Shot was a new building now. The creaks of an old home simply didn't happen in my bar.

Another creak, so soft it would have been drowned out by any other noise. A human wouldn't hear it, and usually, I wouldn't either.

I looked at my glass, then turned off the water, turning slowly toward the open kitchen door to the rest of the bar. Softly putting the glass on the metal table in the center of the room, I moved toward the open door. I grabbed a knife as I walked, listening to the soft shing of metal as it was pulled from the knife block.

When I entered the bar, I was able to see perfectly well. There was no one there. I turned on the lights, letting my eyes adjust to that light. Even though I could see in the dark, having the lights on made me feel safer.

I'm just on edge.

There was no one in the bar, no one outside the bar, no cars suspiciously parked out front. I was completely alone.

Going back into the kitchen, I grabbed my water, turning the lights off as I headed back upstairs. I wasn't tired anymore. I was wide awake, my heart pounding as I tried to shake the feeling I was in danger, but I wasn't, not at that exact moment. I went into my office and locked the door, frustrated my feeling of security didn't come back.

This is werecat paranoia. This is what we are. I just need…

I put the glass down before I threw it in anger. I would have felt safe in my own home, but I couldn't anymore.

I've dealt with attacks at home before. Why is this such a problem? Why does this one freak me out more than the attack last year by the rogues? Is it because rogues are a normal problem and humans aren't? I don't fucking know!

My hands were shaking as I sat down.

I need to get over this. I can't live paranoid and afraid of who might be watching. They know what I am now, so it's not like it can get much worse.

I drank my water as soon as my hands stopped shaking enough to hold the glass. I drank every drop and knew I needed more, but the idea of walking out of my office again terrified me.

Wanting to feel safe, I stripped and Changed, entering my werecat form. I was powerful, and the new building was built to accommodate my size, so I could fight back if anyone tried to come for me. I didn't get back to sleep, though. Lying down, my eyes refused to close. I stared at the door all night, waiting for the sunlight to enter my window again. I listened to every creak, every odd noise, things I normally blocked out, but I was too hyper aware to sleep.

It was a long few hours, but when the sun came up, I stood, Changed back into my human form, then put my clothes back on, even the brace for my hand, though another Change had helped it heal even further. Better safe than sorry. I knew I needed a shower and a change of clothes, so I walked back home, enjoying the sunrise.

I can't live like this. I won't live like this.

When I walked into my bathroom, I caught myself in the mirror and realized I looked haunted.

This was the face everyone had to see yesterday? Wow.

I was a mess, even if I didn't look injured anymore. Changing sped up the healing process, so there was only minor bruising left, but Changing didn't fix my clothing, the exhaustion, or pretty much any of the mental issues causing my eyes to remain gold.

A shower will fix some of this.

Showering washed off the dried blood and dirt I should have dealt with the night before. It was enough to help me feel more awake as I put on clean clothes.

As I went back downstairs, I realized this was the first time I had been in my house alone since I broke down at Heath's home. I wasn't nearly close to that now, but I was still edgy. It was something to take pride in, though. The initial shock was gone, and Heath had supported me for over a week, but I was back in my house without anyone watching my back.

Still paranoid as hell, but an improvement for sure. I'll take what I can get.

I took a moment to make coffee, knowing I was going to need the boost to make it through the day. Looking out my large windows at my trees as I sipped the first piping hot taste of much-needed caffeine, I took solace that I wouldn't actually lose this view. Sure, I was going to get a driveway, but Heath was making sure it was out of sight of my big windows. I was getting a fence, but it was going to be barbed wire in the surrounding forest, not a large wall around my house.

In reality, very little was going to change. He and Dirk had looked out for me when it came to the security changes. I would get a new security hub in my house as well, but that was happening last, once they figured out how to wire everything or if it needed to run off wifi. I preferred a hardline because wifi could be hijacked.

It's not so bad. I'll survive.

The thought made me feel better, something I desperately needed. Just being in my favorite place, watching my trees, made me feel better. I knew no one was watching me, and if anyone attacked me here, I was fully able to do with them what I pleased.

Maybe tonight, I'll come home.

I finished my coffee and put the mug in the sink, then spent an hour wiping my kitchen down and dusting around the house, keeping my space nice. Even though I was trying to do better, there was still a moment, as I stood alone on the stairs, the worry came back. Was someone watching me? Dirk didn't sweep the woods for people, and I hadn't been out there in over a week. The contractors had been working on the upgrades, but not me.

No. Finish cleaning, then go into the woods. Or just don't. What are they going to see? Me drinking coffee and cleaning the house.

I vacuumed and mopped the different floors next, reorganized my movie and book collection, then found the book I never finished on the coffee table. Picking it up slowly, I stared at the cover. This was the last normal thing I had done—reading a book on a lazy Sunday before a full moon.

Keeping the book with me, I walked out of my home, leaving it spotless. I was still in a cleaning mood, the drive to get back to normal, even though the paranoia followed my every step. I went back to Kick Shot and cleaned my office, took out the trash, then grabbed the laundry. I was going to have to walk back to my house, and that was exactly what I did. I even put it in the washing machine and started the load.

Someone tried to kill me yesterday. If I let them take my normal life away from me, they win. No different from the rogues. I kept living my normal life then, even with the paranoia. No different at all.

It was different. I knew it was. I could feel the werecats, knew they were there, knew what they were doing the moment they tried to enter my territory. This time, I was up against humans—weaker, fragile, mortal, but they could hide. I had no idea where they were inside my territory or when they would strike again. The werecats couldn't sneak up on me, but the humans had already proven not once, but twice, they could. First, the BSA, then the fanatics trying to kill me.

By the time I got back to the bar, I'd made the decision to walk around to the front. I wasn't sure where the urge came from, but remembering the startled way I woke up and the paranoia still haunting my every step, I wanted to look around.

Nothing seemed unusual until I caught the scent of spray paint as I rounded the corner to see the front of the building. I started walking faster and saw the message spray-painted on the door.

DIE FREAK.

I didn't scream or freak out. I calmly took my phone out of my pocket and took a picture, sending it to Heath, Dirk, and Landon first, then to my entire family in a separate message.

This was what must have woken me. I could feel it. I had slept through whoever did it, but the headache might have distracted me from hearing them drive off. Even if I had heard them, I would have thought they were just driving down the highway that early in the morning.

They were smart, putting it on the door, not a window where I would have seen it coming downstairs.

My phone buzzed repeatedly in my hand.

Heath:I'm on my way over.

Landon:Bringing Dirk back. We'll clean this up and check for fingerprints.

Jabari:They're blustering because they know you survived yesterday. Common tactic to keep you scared. Don't fall for it.

I put my phone away and went inside, sitting at the bar with the front door open to see the message. The only reason I wasn't scared was something didn't make sense.

If they wanted me afraid, they should have sent this message before they tried to kill me. This was just overkill. The puzzle pieces didn't fit, but I couldn't do anything about it.

I waited until Heath parked in front of the bar. He looked at the message as he came in.

"Odd that they wrote this after they destroyed your car and tried to kill you. Their motives are already pretty obvious," he mentioned softly, leaning down to get an even better look at it.

"I was just thinking the same thing," I said, sipping on water I served myself. I didn't need the headache coming back. "But you know, idiots."

"Idiots is the simplest solution."

"Jabari said it's bluster because they know I survived yesterday."

"Also a firm possibility," Heath agreed. When he looked up at me, he smiled, showing the same lack of concern I was feeling. "You look good, healthy even. Been a while since I've seen that."

"I took a shower and cleaned my house," I said, chuckling. "Decided living in my office wasn't doing my mental health any favors."

"I was going to give you another week. I considered saying something yesterday, but then you were attacked, and it didn't seem like the right time." He came closer and grabbed my knee. We were alone, and I enjoyed when his hand went from my knee to my thigh slowly, testing the waters. We never fooled around in the bar, but he seemed excited to see me looking more like normal.

"I'm glad you reconsidered being an Alpha," I teased.

"Never an Alpha." he reminded me softly, then pulled his hand away and put both in his pockets. It was the easiest way for us to keep our hands off each other in a public space. "Are you waiting on Landon and Dirk?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, taking another sip of my water. "I know you don't want to give me advice about my situation with the BSA, especially not specifics about negotiating with them, but I threw them out yesterday. I think they're the leak. You agree about that, right?"

He frowned, looking away, working through the situation in his head. Then he shrugged.

"It's a strong possibility. There are other options, but…" He shook his head. "I don't see how the pieces fit for those. You've made enemies among the werewolves, you know."

"Obviously," I said, chuckling. "That's not a surprise."

"But no werewolf I know would give your information to human fanatics to kill you. If someone in the supernatural world wanted you dead that badly, they would hire a professional. Hisao isn't the only assassin in the world, and you aren't an ancient with thousands of years of experience. It wouldn't be hard for someone to take you out. The only thing you have going for you is your territorial magic, which would give away an assassin before they made it here. They would have to try to catch you outside your territory, which means even more planning. The most logical solution is the BSA has a leak, and now extremists have your information."

"So, I shouldn't bargain with them until they fix this leak."

"I don't know," he said honestly. "My situation with them was much different than yours. I don't know how willing they are to play hardball because you shut down negotiations."

"My family thinks I did the right thing." I put my water down and leaned on my hands. "And I think I did the right thing, but I'm not sure. I threw them out because I was angry, but was it really the best decision?"

Heath sat next to me, leaning on his hands as well, matching my pose.

"Only time will tell. Now, my favorite bartender, care to get me a drink?"

Laughing, I got up, but the only reason I did it was he called me his favorite bartender. It was as though we were back to those initial strange Saturday nights, with me behind the bar and him trying to know the woman his daughter trusted so easily. Two people, practically strangers, trying to understand each other and build a newfound friendship, even though the world didn't want us to.

As I poured him a soda, I thought about the pieces at play—me and my family. I was the defender now. I knew I would be physically safe if I called them here, but then the entire ruling family of the werecats would be exposed to the BSA, something no one was comfortable with. I had Heath, Dirk, and Landon as my help here, along with Oliver to an extent, but I wanted to keep him out of danger. I also had the BSA agents.

When I put Heath's drink in front of him, he said something that took my mind off the BSA agents.

"Carey yelled at me last night," he said softly. "About us."

I sighed heavily. "How mad is she?"

"She just yelled. Said it was wrong for us to keep something like this from her for so long. I don't think that's all that hurt her, though. There's something deeply wrong, and I can't force her to tell me. I took it last night, then fired back with the fact that you and I are adults. We don't answer to a thirteen-year-old girl."

That made me wince. Not exactly the softest way for a father to deescalate a fight, even if he was right. We didn't answer to a thirteen-year-old girl, and her fourteenth birthday wasn't going to change the fact she didn't get to control our relationship.

"I…don't know what I would have said, either," I admitted. "She's so mad. I get she should have known sooner, but it puts her in the position to lie for us, and she was never supposed to have to."

"Yeah, we really screwed this one up," he agreed. "Danger at home tends to bring these things into the open. The fact only Zuri and Carey know, through all of this, is astounding."

"The BSA knows," I reminded him. That was dangerous enough.

He nodded, going quiet. Neither of us was in the right headspace to also deal with Carey. It was the anger of a teenage girl or the rage of two species and people trying to kill me.

I hate putting her on the back burner. I hate it so much.

"Let's take her out today. Get her out of class and take her somewhere," I said, crossing my arms with a nod. "Once this is cleaned up, we can slip away and bowl when there's no one around or go paintballing…anything. Well, maybe the movies since I have this." I lifted my brace.

"I like that idea. She's been feeling left out, and I don't know how to get through this bumpy patch. I really don't." Heath finished his soda.

"We'll get through it together," I promised. "There hasn"t yet been a situation you and I haven"t been able to get through, and most of them were a lot more dangerous than a human teenager."

His laugh was like music and the perfect balm to my soul after the rough week and a half I had lived through.