Page 7

Chapter seven

Kit

I’m embarrassed, and I always am after days like these. I just can’t quite leave the past in the past where it belongs. It always wells up when I least expect it and poisons me all over again. It strips all the armour away. The past comes back and leaves me uncertain and scared like a kid all over again.

Worse still is the way the pack always gets.

Callan is walking around with huge, big, apologetic eyes while Raider is sitting quietly, being unusually introspective. Ryann is missing, though, and when I’d asked, they said she was in her bedroom but didn’t elaborate.

It’s all my fault.

It’s a strange occurrence that Callan and Raider get up at the same time and leave the room, and I realise it must be arranged. I look at the table and run my hand over the hardwood, feeling worse. Wren leans back. I can feel his gaze on me, and I’m not ready to face it. Okay, so maybe this was orchestrated.

I am a coward.

I get this sinking feeling, this pit of doom and despair. He’s going to be disgusted with me. When I first met him, I’d felt this need to hide who I am, and I never quite got out of that mindset. Wren is too perfect, the opposite of what I am. Everything I’ve spent my life being told I should be.

I’m aware that he has no idea what happened today, but I’m not sure if I want to tell him. It’s not fair to him, though.

If he asks, I’ll be honest, that’s all I can do.

Wren looks me dead in the eyes, and I see nothing but compassion and curiosity .

“Who was that alpha today, Kit?”

I suck in air. I knew he was going to ask, but still it hurts more than I expected.

Of course, I react how I always do. I lower my eyes, submitting to the stronger alpha. I wish I’d been born a beta. This wouldn’t be an issue. Instead, I barely have the dominance of an alpha, and I don’t have the appearance of one. I like nice things, and I love clothes. I like makeup and looking good, but I love hockey and football. I’m who I am, I just don’t want to have to hide any parts of me.

What’s wrong with that?

He’s going to hate me. I’m going to be the deal breaker that ruins Callan and Raider’s pack.

“Kit, stop. Just talk to me.” Wren’s voice is low and full of compassion.

I smooth my hand over the wood, getting rid of the dust and flecks of debris to buy myself some time.

“When I was a kid, I was much like I am now, and I had a couple of bullies. It wasn’t okay to be like me, to be different.”

Wren is watching me closely. I can feel it. Is he disgusted?

“I couldn’t fight back. They made sure the entire school just pretended I didn’t exist. They used to beat me up. Even the teachers would see it and turn away and pretend it wasn’t happening.” I say it all in a rush of words and emotion. I still can’t talk about it without reliving it.

I remember vividly the feel of the underwear in my mouth as the blows rained down. Their laughter and taunts hid the desperate sucks of air as I tried to get enough but couldn’t quite do it. The flicker of black. The wish that I’d told my mother I loved her before I left, and the bitter sadness that I was going to die in a locker room, covered in piss, while Callan’s screams echo from a locker not far away.

I shrug and force a light laugh.

“It was no big deal.”

“NO BIG DEAL?” Callan snarls from behind me. “They broke your arm by jumping on it. They tortured you. You almost killed yourself, Kit!”

I squeeze my eyes closed and wish I could make him take his words back.

“I survived it, though.”

Callan storms back out of the dining room.

I can’t take Wren’s silence any longer; with a frustrated grunt, I look up and freeze. I’m like a hunted animal finally noticing the deadly predator right in front of me. He stands up and looks down at me.

“Give me their names.”

I mutely shake my head .

“Their names, Kit.”

“You have hockey, it's not worth it. You have to protect your reputations.”

Wren struggles. I can see him putting it together, and, finally, his expression clears, and he stares at me, aghast. “You’re the reason no one knows Raider has a pack?”

I fidget and shift. “It’s better this way. He’s got a really good career, and he has his own issues, but it’s better if he’s not associated with me. If no one knows about me, they can’t use me to hurt him.”

Wren is shaking his head when I peek up. “No, just no. This is wrong.”

I feel Raider enter the room. He’s got this intensity that seems to come from his dad. It’s potent. Charles Raines is a force unto himself, and both Raines boys inherited it.

“Why are you okay looking like the bad guy all the time?” Wren spits at Raider.

“I am and always will be Kit’s shield. Whatever he needs, I will do it,” Raider says slowly, breaking my damn heart all over again. I love him so much and every day a little bit more.

Wren stands up. “I want their names by the end of the week or I’m going hunting.”

I gape at him as he grabs his jacket and storms from the house.

“Well, that went just swimmingly.”

I turn my head and catch Ryann watching from the kitchen. Before I can say anything, she turns and disappears.

I feel dirty but slightly better. Wren doesn’t hate me. The relief makes me weak.

Raider pulls me up and into his arms, hugging me hard. “You should have told me. I would have got you out of there faster.”

“I didn’t see him straight away, and he was between us. I couldn’t get to you.”

“That’s what bonds are for Kit. You yank on em, scream on them. Let me come and save you. Stop pretending you don’t have them. We’re a team.”

I wrap my arms around his waist, loving the feel of his hard muscles.

Raider picks me up and carries me up to our bedroom, where we find Callan reading. He looks up as Raider lowers me, and then I’m cocooned between the two of them.

“Wren is going to war,” Raider says in amusement.

“You didn’t tell him you scared them all into leaving us both alone?”

“Nah, he’s hot when he’s angry.”

I close my eyes, trying to forget the past and remember that I’m safe. I chant it until I fall asleep.

I wake up from the nightmare covered in sweat and feeling sick. There’s this itchy, trapped feeling that has me slipping from my pack’s arms and heading in the direction of the backyard.

On my way, I catch movement. Immediately, I think of Wren and wonder if he’s going to be able to look at me like I’m normal.

But it’s not Wren.

Ryann is standing by the side of the window, peering down onto the street. There is something about her furtive movements that makes all the hair on my neck stand on end.

It occurs to me that with her hiding from the police, she could be a criminal, but I don’t think so. She looks like something I recognise. Like me. Hunted.

“Ryann?”

She jumps and turns with a smile as fake as the ones I’ve been known to throw.

“Morning, Kit, you’re up early.”

“I am.”

Her smile falls, and she looks at the window. “I was just looking out on the street. I’ve never stayed in a neighbourhood as nice as this one.”

I nod my head. Unsure whether to believe her or not. I want to, but I think we both know better.

She clears her throat and gestures to the stairs. “Shall we?”

I abruptly pull my gaze from her, aware I’m staring. It’s just that there is something about her that only exists inside her. This glow and aura of defiance, of complex intricacies that make her as mysterious as the deepest parts of the ocean.

Who is she? I can almost feel the lies and secrets like a whisper against my skin.

Violet eyes hold a violent tempest inside them, hair that’s flat and unassuming in shadows turns to fire in the sun. Her smile is potent, a quick flash revealing her inner self. She’s muscular with small breasts and an ass that has me thinking all sorts of inappropriate thoughts. Who is she?

“You need clothes!” I blurt out. “I gave you some, but I’ve found more. Come down and pick what you want.”

She follows me, which is both a relief and somewhat distressing. Do I look okay? Can she tell I’m freaking out?

I fumble the lock on the door before getting it open with a curse. She follows me with a cloud of brownie perfume that is unusually strong for a beta.

How does she have so much confidence?

I point to the pile of clothes and choke as she yanks her t-shirt over her head and shimmies out of her jeans. The tiny scrap of lavender lace isn’t nearly big enough and, at the same time, is far too big. I want to tear it off her with my teeth. To think, I made the underwear that is now hugging her skin.

She’s not wearing a bra, and I find myself mesmerised by the way her breasts move as she pulls her clothes on and off. She’d be a handful, perfect.

I rip my eyes away, only to find her smiling at me. It’s not a smile I recognise, but I don’t think she’s uncomfortable. She pulls on an a-symmetrical shirt and a pair of shorts that look like a skirt.

“This will do.”

“You don’t want to see yourself?” I clear my throat. “In the mirror?”

That smile again. “I don’t think I need to see myself in the mirror, Kit.”

I look down at her long, tanned legs and get a myriad of ideas flooding my head. Excitement simmers in my mind. I’ve got a whole new line, something that could be worn by anyone or a rock star on stage.

I grab my measuring tape and reach for the closest piece of fabric, discarding it before I find a sheer black lace that calls to me.

“I’ll leave you to it.”

I look up at her, distracted. “How do you know?”

“I’m a photographer, Kit, I recognise the muse. Have fun, but remember to come up and eat.”

She disappears up the stairs, leaving that delicious fragrance behind.

I work until I’m so tired I can’t think. This hyper focus only happens when I’m down here. When I get into the zone. Minutes, hours, or days can pass without me really being aware.

My table only holds three mugs, so I’m guessing a day has passed and not much else.

I stretch and wearily trudge up the stairs, yawning almost painfully.

Callan is asleep on the couch, and Ryann is laying with her head in his lap. I watch them for a long moment, lifting my hand to my chest, where I’m sure I’m melting.

Wren turns his head towards me and smiles. “Welcome back, Kit.”

He lifts an arm, and I walk over to him, feeling uncertain and all kinds of nervous. He pulls me into a hug and presses a kiss to my jaw.

The nerves vanish, but fluttering butterflies take wing. But he doesn’t do anything else, he just pulls me against him. I wiggle until I’m comfortable.

Raider pads out of the kitchen with three beers, a bowl of popcorn, and a bottle of water, which he hands me first.

“Water first, then you can have a beer.”

I take the water gratefully and down it. He sits on the other side of Wren and leans up against him .

Raider is a bit like a cat. He needs to touch, but on his terms. I think it came from his overly touchy family.

Wren doesn’t seem to mind having us all over him.

“What happened to Callan and Ryann?” I side-eye the two of them and their light but cute snores.

“They were training all day,” Raider says in a disapproving tone.

“Training what?”

“Self-defense, Callan has decided he wants to learn.”

I nod my head but look at Callan with wide eyes. His head is tilted back on the couch, and as I watch, he lets out the most adorable snort.

“Are you coming to the game, Kit?” Raider murmurs.

I hesitate, feeling the pressure to do and be normal, but I just can’t.

“Nah, I’ll just stay home. You guys have got this.”

Raider doesn’t show his disappointment anymore. I almost wish he would. I can feel it through the bond.

It’s okay, Raider, I dislike me, too.