16. Caleb

SIXTEEN

Caleb

While she was in a deep sleep, I parked the truck, grabbed my jacket, and locked the truck after I got out.

Cannon answered on the first ring. “What is it? Where are you?”

“I had a welcome committee on the road this morning.” The rage I’d kept tempered surfaced white hot within me. “A fucking shifter in the middle of the road! What the fuck is your problem? I told you I was coming!”

“Be careful how you speak to me, Caleb.” Cannon’s voice was low and calm but with unmistakable authority.

“And if I’m not, then what? Are you planning to send more reinforcements?” I was reckless with anger. “She could have been killed!”

“But she wasn’t.” He was still calm. His tone grew cold as he stated, “I didn’t send anyone. I trust you to come in with her yourself. I take it you did not reveal yourself to her?”

“I’m not stupid,” I spoke through gritted teeth. “If not you, who? ”

“I don’t know.”

This was bullshit. “This is Pack Council bullshit,” I hissed down the phone at him. “I told you they were fuckers.”

“I don’t think this was them.” I heard him sigh. “Just make it here, and we’ll sort things out once you arrive.”

My gut twisted. I’d avoided pack for a long time. For good reason. I tilted my head back and gazed at the sky.

She wouldn’t be safe there.

Would she be safe anywhere?

“You’re driving through pack territory,” Cannon calmly stated, as if he could read my mind. “Pack patrol will catch your scent. Did you stop to consider it was you that they were checking out?”

I hadn’t. I looked back at the truck, feeling torn about what to do. “She’s vulnerable.”

“More so with just you at her side, Caleb.”

My foot bounced as I mulled it over.

“Caleb?” Cannon’s low warning was enough for me.

“We’re not coming. End of discussion.” I hung up on him and quickly turned the phone off. Packs had different ways of operating, but most of them had some members who went to college and worked like humans to earn money for their pack. I wouldn’t turn on the phone until I swapped the SIM card since every pack knew about human technology.

I walked back to the truck and opened the back door, being careful not to wake Willow. I grabbed her phone from her bag and switched it off.

I’d need to change this truck. I didn’t doubt that Cannon knew what mode of transport I’d picked.

Worry gnawed at my gut as I considered if I was overreacting, but looking into the back seat at the woman who lay asleep there, I was sure I was doing the right thing.

Willow was different from most humans. She was fragile. I had to protect her…even though she was the reason she gained the attention of a powerful alpha.

I got in the truck, made the turn, and went back the way we came. She was gonna see a shaman—she would have to—but I decided to try to find answers on my own first.

The pack was our last option, not the first.

I didn’t lack resources on my own. I had some connections. I hadn’t talked to them in years, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t.

Feeling more confident about my decision, I settled into the seat, ready for the long drive. We’d go back to Whispering Pines. The human numbers would be to her benefit. The paintings, we’d put somewhere that Lily wouldn’t see them, and I’d stay with Willow, and we’d figure this out together.

Our relationship was not the smoothest, I knew that. She didn’t like me, and I hardly put up with her. Yet, she’d cried earlier, and whether it was conceited or not, I think a few of those shed tears were for me. I went against the order of an alpha for her sake, so although we weren’t friends, there was more than mere indifference in our relationship. We would learn to coexist until this matter was resolved.

While driving down the empty roads, I was conscious of the occasional presence that sprinted through the woods alongside the truck. Observing another shifter on their territory, the border patrols were content to see me leave quickly and not stay in territories where I was unwelcome. Maybe Cannon had been right; maybe it was me the wolf made a stand for. Either way, I wasn’t willing to chance it .

Willow woke a few hours later, and I saw a deeper effect of her ME. Her complexion was ashen, devoid of color, and she displayed signs of extreme exhaustion. She had a sore and swollen throat, and when she hoarsely mentioned needing lozenges, I immediately changed direction and drove to the closest town to find a pharmacy. Throughout the entire journey, she stayed in the back seat, constantly feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

The owner of a small bed & breakfast on the edge of a wood welcomed us. She was curious but respectful with her silence when I carried my wife past her and up the stairs to our room. Willow’s groans echoed through the room as I gently placed her on the bed, and my gut churned with anxiety until I relented and sought the doctor in town.

I described her condition to him, and after a thorough examination, he reassured me she was experiencing a severe episode and needed to rest and recover. I checked my wallet when he was gone and she was still asleep, finding that I had thirty-one dollars left.

Rooms, food, and doctor visits had severely hit my finances. The latter, I suspected Willow would tell me I hadn’t needed, but it was my watch she got sick on, so she could bite me.

“Shit.” I flung the wallet onto the bed and sank into the chair. I’d paid for two nights, and because I said Willow was my wife, we ended up with a double bed once more.

Willow was already under the covers, curled up and peaceful. I needed to go find a quick way to make some cash.

I knew what I needed to do. I’d done it before, and looking down at myself, I knew I needed to change clothes first. I found a dark gray Henley at the bottom of my pack. I switched my belt to a custom one with a small knife holder—you never knew when you might need one. I tucked another knife into my boot, making sure my jeans concealed it.

I had a black jacket that I unrolled, shook out, and slipped on. I double-checked that Willow was still asleep, and then I went ahead and opened her toiletry bag and found a little tub of hair product. I took a little and smoothed my hair back with both hands.

There was a small notepad next to the telephone. It was a nice little detail. An actual landline, when was the last time I’d seen one of them? I left a note for my wife , telling her I wouldn’t be long, and then I snuck out of the lodge without the owner noticing.

The journey into the town was quiet and uneventful, with only a few cars passing by. The drivers who slowed down to check if they recognized me quickly moved on when they realized I was a stranger.

Finding the bar was not difficult at all. Despite the disappointing quietness, the night still held promise. I found a spot at the bar and asked for a beer. Then it was simply a matter of waiting and seeing who I could con.

The clientele remained low-key until around ten o’clock when four loud-mouthed jerks fell through the door. The bar, which was already quite subdued, became even more silent, and I discreetly watched as they aggressively pounded on the counter to be served. I half expected the bartender to refuse them, but although he looked pissed off, he served them four beers and four whisky chasers.

The way they confidently strolled through the bar to the pool tables in the back made me believe that this night might actually have some potential.

I sat through their profanity-laden conversations and rowdy teasing, which oscillated between playful and outright aggressive, for a good twenty-five to thirty minutes. As soon as the leader of the group, who I had quickly identified as the loudest one upon their arrival at the bar, confidently proclaimed that his friends were all worthless and not worth challenging, I swiftly turned my chair around, ready to get his attention.

“Hey, man, don’t,” the bartender warned me quickly.

“You looking for a new player?” I shouted across the bar, ignoring the man behind me.

The four men grew quiet, and their leader shifted his focus to me. He had a tall stature, possibly around six feet, with a lean build that revealed some visible muscle. He had both arms covered in tattoos, with some extending to his neck. I saw he even had a teardrop tattooed on his cheek. You had to love the bad boy cliches.

“You good?” he asked with a sneer on his face, though it didn’t manage to make him appear intimidating if that was his intention.

“I play.” I didn’t stand up yet, and I changed my ploy from hustling to playing to his ego. “You decent?”

He looked at his friends, the sneer morphing into a smirk. “I play.”

Nodding, I leaned back against the bar. “I’m game, you?”

He licked his lower lip. One of his friends stepped into him, whispering into his ear, “ He looks like he can play, Ray.”

Ray pushed him back a bit. “A hundred says I beat your ass. ”

“Two hundred says you don’t.”

“You can’t bet in the bar,” the guy behind the bar said halfheartedly, and I got the impression his protest had fallen on deaf ears too many times.

“Let’s play,” Ray told me.

As I approached the pool table, I didn’t pay any attention to his three friends, who were all giving me dirty looks, each one trying to intimidate me in their own way. I wanted to tell them I’d seen pups with more bite than they had.

“Two hundred?” Ray confirmed.

“Too much?” I asked, taking a pool cue from the rack. I shrugged. “Fair enough, drop it to one.”

“I got two Benjamins, man.”

“Good.” He didn’t ask me if I had the money, which was his first mistake. His second was letting me win the toss.

The bar was so quiet you could hear a pin drop as I broke the rack, and the balls went everywhere. I kept my smile hidden when the first ball went straight into the side pocket. Ray hadn’t realized yet that I’d just set the tone for the game. I strolled around the table, acting like I was scoping out my next move. With a seamless stroke, the next ball effortlessly found its way into the corner pocket, and the cue ball smoothly rolled into position to line up for the next shot.

The four boys were now ominously quiet as well. With a controlled touch, I successfully sank my third ball, and as I turned to face Ray, I noticed his sneer disappear as he witnessed me lining up shot number four, which smoothly found its way into the opposite corner pocket.

It left the table open, and with slow measured care, I pocketed my fifth shot.

“Shit,” the guy who’d whispered to Ray muttered, and one of the others nodded.

After taking a drink from my beer, I lined up the next shot. Another ball pocketed, leaving just two balls between me and victory. The next ball was positioned at a challenging angle, and with the tension rising from the group of four men in front of me, I pretended to make a mistake, stepping back and sipping my beer.

Ray sprang into action, successfully sinking three of his own balls, but he failed to make the fourth shot. He’d also moved my seven-ball, and I nailed it home with a firm, confident strike. After that, I had only the eight-ball left on the table.

“Name the pocket,” one guy demanded.

The tip of the cue gently tapped the farthest corner. I glanced at Ray to see if he noticed, and the swift jerk of his head told me he did.

Taking a deep breath, I lined up for the final shot. With a perfect strike, the cue ball sent the last ball rolling easily into the corner pocket.

The bar was eerily quiet.

“Good game,” I said, laying my cue on the felt. “Thanks.”

“You cheated.”

I anticipated it, yet his predictability still brought a smile to my face. “Did I? How?”

Ray turned to his friends for support, only to find that they all avoided his gaze. “You just did.”

With a tired sigh, I shrugged off my jacket, fully aware of how the Henley shirt I was wearing emphasized my physique. “Damn, I was hoping you’d be different.”

“What do you mean by ‘different’?” It was the friend who spoke, the one who I suspected was the only one with any intelligence.

“Your friend just called me a cheater, even though we all know I won fair and square. So that means he either doesn’t have the green to pay me or he wants to cheat me , and I want my money, so I have to kick his ass.” I met each of their stares. “I know you won’t play fair, so I’ll beat all your asses. Are we on the same page?”

Ray dropped his cue on the table. “Just give him the money. This place is a shithole anyway. We’re outta here.”

The friend casually tossed the money onto the table, and as they exited, one of them carelessly knocked over a bar stool. Once they were out of sight, the remaining customers started cheering and laughing.

I gathered the money, placed it in my wallet, and then put my jacket back on. I restored the knocked over bar stool and locked eyes with the bartender at the bar.

“Be careful when you leave,” he said while placing a new bottle of beer on the counter. “Ray is someone who doesn’t handle losing well.” When I went to pay, he shook his head. “Hell no, that was the first time in a long time the little shit’s been quiet. You earned that,” he said, nodding to the bottle. “Enjoy.”

I received congratulations from a few more people before I departed not long after. The bartender reminded me once again to stay safe as I left, and I thanked him for the warning as I said goodbye.

Even without any prior notice, I would have stayed alert as I walked back to the bed and breakfast. Ray and his friends would never win awards for subtlety. The first one jumped me when I rounded the corner, but I was ready for him. While I was in the middle of punching the first one, the second guy rushed towards me. Surprisingly, the third person, whom I’d believed to be somewhat intelligent, jumped from a roof but failed to hit me or his companion. A loud scream accompanied the sound of a bone snapping upon his landing.

Which just left me and Ray.

While one friend was rolling around in self-inflicted pain, the other two were on the ground groaning. I couldn’t help but grin. “I’ll let you have the first hit,” I told him. With my fists raised, I gestured for Ray to approach by opening my right hand and motioning him forward. “Let’s do this.”

Big Bad Ray caught me off guard for the first time that evening. He turned on his heel and ran. At first, I thought it was a trick and he would come back with more sycophants and minions, but then I realized he’d just run away.

With a smile on my face, I strolled back to the lodge, knowing there wouldn’t be any more surprises.

The owner noticed my arrival, quickly covering her initial confusion, and greeted me with a smile. Upon entering the room, I quietly locked the door behind me, careful not to disturb Willow, who was still fast asleep.

Only after I had changed for bed did I notice that she had been awake while I was gone. The notepad had an addition since I left it on the nightstand beside her.

In the sketch, I was in a bar, sporting a confident grin, with my gaze fixed straight ahead. I looked at it, then at her, and ripped the paper off of the notepad, crumpled it, and threw it away.

As I climbed into bed, I couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh. I had hoped that a couple of beers would help me relax and fall asleep, but seeing that sketch only pissed me off again.

It took a long time for me to fall asleep, and when I finally did, the only thing I could see when I closed my eyes was Willow smiling in her sleep. Like she knew she’d pissed me off and was happy she had.

Which was stupid. It was more likely that she would have no recollection of waking and drawing her little sketch.

Well, that’s what I convinced myself before sleep took over.