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Story: A Home for Tyler

“Of course.” He sounded insulted.

“Then nobody can object if I sublet to you.” I cast a glare at the manager and headed for the door. “Come and see if it’s a good fit for your boss.”

I had to put off my trip for a couple of days to pack up all my personal items and put them in the storage area that came with the apartment, but when I left, I was going to not only not have to worry about the rent but would be making a small profit every month. And I had nowhere to go back to. Only the future ahead of me.

So I drove out of the city and down the highway feeling adventurous and a little nervous. But I was only going to take a break from working, visit my family, and then decide what to do next. I missed den life, spending time with others of my kind, but I also liked the work I did for my former company.

If my department hadn’t been shut down, I’d have likely stayed for the rest of my working career. But that was a done deal, and it was an opportunity for a reset. I had to look at it that way for my sanity’s sake. After telling us that everything was great and we were not in any trouble, they’d turned right around and let us go. And our department wasn’t the only one. I had heard from a coworker and from Bonnie. It seemed we’d just been the first.

But none of that was problem anymore. I was driving south, leaving the foggy climes behind in favor of the Sonoran Desert. I’d never been to Animals, although our den wasn’t very far away. But when I left home, I was underage.

So, I only knew Warren from some family get-togethers and his mate, Karma, not at all. She was legendary, though, and my cousins all insisted I needed to meet her. It was nice to drive along, stopping where I wanted to, seeing the sights and letting my bear be free whenever he chose. He’d been patient with me while I worked in an office that suffocated him, accepting his rare times of freedom, and did not make any demands.

It was time I changed my life so we both had what we wanted and needed. Past time.

I’m so sorry.As I crossed the border into Arizona, I promised myself and him not to be so selfish again. I had needs, but so did he. And whatever he needed, I’d be listening to make sure I didn’t leave him in the background again.

It’s all right.

No, it’s not, but it will be. Starting today.

The mountains in the distance sometime later were very different from the green or snow-capped peaks we’d left behind. Their reddish slopes were a sign that I was getting close to my cousin’s club. Nestled in the Superstition Mountains, the club was at the front of a series of cliff dwellings that our den had occupied over hundreds of years. It had been abandoned for some time, but Warren had made it a refuge for not only bears but other shifters and, since Karma arrived, all sorts of other people.

I couldn’t wait to see it.

Chapter Four

Tyler

It was my wedding day. Or at least it was supposed to be.

And here I was, having crossed the country aimlessly, about to walk into the seediest motel I’d ever seen. According to some random post I saw on social media, there was “a reason why they always have a help wanted sign up.”

Did they have really a job opening, or was it a joke based on the fact that this place looked like it could be a location shoot of a horror film? I had no idea. But I still had enough money to could pay for a few weeks here, although my funds were getting pretty slim. It was time to settle down, stop the nonstop travel, and try to find a real job.

Any job would be better than a forced mate bond with a cheater.

I got out and thanked the guy who had given me a ride. There had been a time when I never would’ve believed I’d be taking buses and hitchhiking rides from strangers. But here I was. And still…it was better than being mated to Joseph.

The motel was single story and shaped like an L, with the office sort of slapped on the end like an afterthought. My family would never have designed it that way. I was the architect reject and could see that.

I walked into the front office. It smelled like stale cigarettes and spilled coffee. The walls had a yellowish tinge from years of indoor smoking, and the ceiling light flickered, the old fluorescent tube on its last breath. Sure enough, there was a help wanted sign posted in the window. Next to a little bell sat a sign that read:Don’t ring if you don’t mean it.

I rang the bell anyway, assuming that needing a room was “meaning it,” and waited.

I rang it again, five minutes later.

After the third time, I nearly gave up. But where was I gonna go? It wasn’t like someone was going to pick up a random fox shifter and offer them a beach house and breakfast. They probably wouldn’t even risk slowing their car in front of the property. This place looked like it was filled with roaches at best and dead bodies at worst—but at least it was shelter and possibly a job.

Eventually, a man came in, his hair damp, shirt stained and a tired like his face.

“You need a room?” He asked.

I nodded.

“You’re gonna have to wait.” Wasn’t that helpful.

“Okay?” It came out more of a question, and thankfully he took it as one.