7. Gray

7

GRAY

"I...wow," was all I was capable of saying when Spike pulled away.

It was a good thing too, because my jeans felt a little tighter, and I could also feel Spike was in the same state.

"Yeah. That's the perfect word to use when it comes to you," Spike said.

My heart hammered, and I didn't know what else to say.

"Come on, let's take it for a test drive," Spike suggested. "To my favorite diner."

I laughed at that, then slid behind the wheel of my sedan, and Spike joined me.

"I can't believe you managed to transform my sedan in just one night," I said.

"I called in a favor from my MC brothers in the garage. Also, they were happy to do it and had nothing better to do," Spike added.

"Please give them my thanks," I said.

"Will do," he replied.

"Which way to the diner?" I asked and drove as Spike gave me directions.

"She drives so smoothly now," I commented as we got out of the car.

"Enough about the car and how amazing I am, let's talk about something else," Spike said after the waitress led us to a booth by the windows.

"Okay," I said, sitting.

I expected Spike to start drilling me about Jack, but to my surprise, he asked the most random things—like my childhood, my dad, my favorite movies, and music.

As we talked, I found myself opening up more than I intended. Spike had a way of making me feel comfortable, like I could trust him with anything.

It was strange, sharing so much with someone I just met, but Spike had this magnetic presence that drew me in.

We laughed about silly things, shared stories about our pasts, and discovered common interests.

It felt easy, like I'd known him for much longer than just a day. The breakfast turned into a casual conversation between two people getting to know each other.

I couldn't help but appreciate Spike's genuine interest in me, but eventually, I couldn't hold back my next words.

"Spike, how do you know Jack?" I had to ask.

"There's bad blood between us," Spike answered, his expression darkening slightly.

"Why is that?" I pressed, feeling a knot form in my stomach.

"The MC had a standard delivery mission a year ago. When Nitro and I were in their territory, I noticed Jack being pushy with an omega from his pack. I stepped in," Spike explained, his jaw clenching at the memory.

"Pushy?" I repeated, feeling a wave of anger rise within me.

"He was about to force himself on this poor omega," Spike confirmed, his voice tight with anger.

A chill went down my spine at the revelation.

It was right of me to trust my instincts and my wolf when it came to Jack. The thought of someone like him preying on the vulnerable made my blood boil.

"What made matters worse? Olaf's an old friend of Venom's and a longtime client of the MC," Spike explained, his tone grave.

I took a moment to absorb this information, feeling a sense of unease settle in the pit of my stomach.

If Olaf was connected to the MC, then my situation with Jack undoubtedly complicated things further.

"So, back at the bar, that's what Nitro meant when he said Venom would have your head if you killed Jack," I said, piecing together the conversation from last night.

"That's right," Spike confirmed, his voice tinged with disappointment. "Someone has to put that bastard in the dirt, but unfortunately, it won’t be me."

"And how do you know Juan and those other bear shifters?" I prodded, curious about Spike's connections.

Spike gave me a curious look before replying, "Aren't you full of questions today?"

"Sorry, am I being too much?" I asked, feeling a bit self-conscious about my curiosity.

"Nah," Spike reassured me with a smile. "It's easy talking to you, even easier than Nitro. It's nice."

"I can keep your secrets," I assured him. "It's not like I have anyone to spill them to."

As soon as I said those words, I felt a little sad and pathetic. Spike reached across the table, taking my hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"I appreciate that," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine.

Spike took a deep breath, his gaze distant as if he was revisiting painful memories.

"It's not a story I often share," he began, his voice low and measured. "Austin was more than a friend to me. He was like a brother."

I leaned in, sensing the weight of his words. "What happened?"

Spike hesitated, his jaw tightening as he recalled the events.

"We skipped school that day and went out hunting, just the two of us. Austin spotted a deer and went after it. I warned him to be careful, but he didn’t care.”

I listened intently, imagining the scene unfold before me.

“We realize too late that a rabid shifter had entered our hunting grounds,” Spike continued, his voice strained with emotion.

Spike's words hung heavy in the air as the weight of the tragic event settled between us.

I could almost feel the tension radiating from him as he recounted the harrowing experience.

"Did... did Austin make it?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, dreading the answer.

Spike's expression darkened, a mixture of sorrow and guilt flashing across his features.

"I tried to reach him in time, but the shifter was too fast," he confessed, his voice choked with emotion. "By the time I got there, it was too late..."

A lump formed in my throat as I absorbed the magnitude of Spike's loss.

"I'm so sorry, Spike," I murmured, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his arm.

Spike nodded, his eyes clouded with sorrow. "It's a day I'll never forget," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper.

Spike gave me a small nod of appreciation before continuing, "Losing Austin shattered me. It made me question everything—my loyalty to the clan, my place in the world."

"And that's when you left?" I prompted gently.

Spike nodded, his gaze returning to mine. "I couldn't stay there, surrounded by reminders of what I had lost. So, I set out on my own, searching for a new purpose,” he said.

I felt a pang of sympathy for Spike, understanding the pain of losing someone so integral to your life.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," I said softly.

Spike offered me a grateful smile, the weight of his burden seeming to lighten with each word spoken.

"It feels good to finally open up about it," he admitted.

"Can I give you a hug?" I asked, thinking that an embrace might be what he needed.

Then I flushed, realizing how presumptuous I was and that Spike might misinterpret my words. Spike only grinned.

"I wouldn't say no to that," he said.

I slid out of my booth and joined him, wrapping my arms around him. Spike tugged me close, and I could feel his warm breath against my skin.

He felt so warm, so solid, and his familiar scent of bear musk, pine, and motor oil enveloped me like a blanket.

When Spike finally pulled away, I reluctantly released him, feeling a pang of loss at the sudden absence of his warmth.

I didn't return to my booth. I felt just fine, where i was.

"Now it's my turn to ask you a question," Spike said.

I shifted slightly, adjusting to the new topic of conversation.

"Alright," I replied.

After all, Spike had been nothing but honest with me, and I owed him the same in return.

Taking a deep breath, I met Spike's gaze head-on, steeling myself for whatever his question may bring.

"Ask away," I said, my voice steady despite the uncertainty swirling inside me.

"I need you to tell me the whole story, starting from the beginning, on how you met Jack Roth, and why he's after you so we can think of solutions together," Spike said, his gaze steady and serious.

"Alright," I replied, taking a deep breath before recounting everything that had happened to me.

Spike listened intently, nodding at key points and asking clarifying questions. Interestingly, he made me repeat my conversation with Olaf, focusing on every detail.

As I spoke, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. It felt really good to finally be able to talk about my problems with someone.

I didn’t feel so alone, and having Spike there, attentive and supportive, made the ordeal feel a little less daunting.

"And you can't think of any idea why Jack went after you?" Spike prodded.

"I don't have a clue," I answered, feeling a wave of frustration wash over me.

We'd been over this before, and I still couldn't make sense of it.

"There's nothing remotely special about me. My dad and I were loners and had no enemies. I just met Jack in that random bar,” I said.

Spike let out a sigh, his expression thoughtful.

"There must be something more to this, information we're missing," he finally said.

"Are we done with the questions for now?" I asked, feeling a sense of relief wash over me.

"Yeah, sorry about that, but I needed everything you knew," Spike said, his expression apologetic.

"It's okay, I'm just a little tired," I admitted, rubbing my temples.

"We'll find the answers eventually, which leads me to my last question—have you figured out what you want to do next?" Spike asked, his gaze searching mine.

Stay here in Moon Burrow or leave. That question had plagued me since I woke up this morning.

On one hand, I felt safe in this town with Spike.

This was also a good chance for me to get to know him better. But finding out the MC's connection with Jack's pack made me uneasy.

Spike had already helped me so much, and the last thing I wanted was to be a burden to him or cause further trouble for his MC.

However, if I left, where would I go? If Jack was as persistent as I suspected, he'd track me down eventually.

"Gray," Spike began, his hand reaching for mine, his touch comforting.

How strange it was to feel so at ease with Spike, considering we were only beginning to get to know each other.

"You know what and who he is," whispered my wolf in my head.

"Mate." The word sent a shiver down my spine. I had never believed in mates until now.

"Yeah?" I replied, trying to push aside my racing thoughts.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Spike said, his gaze steady.

Reluctantly, I voiced my concerns, and Spike only looked bemused.

"Let me worry about my MC," he informed me. "Stay, Gray, at least until we figure out why Jack's so interested in you."

His words were both reassuring and unsettling. Could I really trust him with this burden? But then again, where else did I have to go?

Besides, Spike sounded so confident and so far, he hadn’t led me astray. I spent my life, being distrustful of others.

Ultimately, I realised how unhealthy that was. I had to change, to learn to trust others eventually, so why not start with Spike?

I thought of the cold and seemingly endless nights I spent huddled in my car, of driving restlessly with no particular direction in mind.

When I first chose this lifestyle, my dad had just died. I needed to get away from it all—the grief, the feeling of being helpless.

Being on the road constantly gave me a sense of freedom, but that feeling eventually faded away as time passed. I finally came to a decision.

“I’ll stay," I finally told Spike.

"Great," Spike said with a grin. "You won't regret this, Gray."

"I hope you're right," I answered, trying to ignore the nagging doubts in my mind.