Page 9 of Cold Foot Revenge (Wreck’s Mountains #7)

Real life was looming over Roxy like a dark cloud.

The thing about clouds—they were supposed to come and go, but as she sat in the passenger’s seat of Dylan’s truck, she realized her real life hadn’t eased up in a very long time.

Tonight, there had been no clouds over her.

As he drove them closer to the hotel, where her car was parked, she realized she really didn’t want to go back to the routine.

Dread work, hate the drive there, harden her heart as she pulled her duffle bag full of barely-there costumes from the trunk of her car, mentally prepare for whatever happened that night, hate the men there, dance without passion, wish her shift was over, make not-enough money, feel trapped, hate herself on the drive home.

Rinse and repeat the next day. And the next. And the next.

Tonight, Dylan had told her to just breathe, but he hadn’t told her how damn fresh that breath of air would be.

“What are you thinking about, Yote?” he asked easily.

She dragged her gaze from the city buildings blurring by to him. He kept taking his eyes off the road to look at her. His blue eyes were full of curiosity, and something more.

“I’m not excited about my shift tonight and I think you are to blame.”

He nodded and pulled his attention back to the road. He was quiet for a minute and looked lost in thought. Finally, he asked, “Are you usually excited for your shift?”

She thought about it. Really thought about it. “No,” she admitted. “It feels different tonight though.”

“And you need someone to blame?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and gave her attention back to the city.

He said stupid mature things that made her think about her feelings.

It was annoying. She didn’t like thinking about her feelings.

Her life actually required that she didn’t have feelings at all.

He wouldn’t understand anything about that though.

“We’re different.”

She thought he would argue, but he didn’t. “You’re right.”

Never in her thirty years of life had she ever heard a man say that word-combination before. Feeling like it was a trick, she glared at him, waiting for him to say, ‘Just kidding, fuck you,’ but he didn’t.

“You live a completely different life than me, and I don’t think you can understand how it is,” she said softly.

“Are you telling me this because secretly you wished I understood?”

She crossed her arms tighter over her chest, like a shield. “If you’re going to keep doing that, I’m not going to talk to you anymore.”

“Why does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Because…” She frowned to herself. “Just because.” Honestly, she didn’t have an answer, and now she was sitting here wondering why a simple question was so hard for her to answer, and wondering if something new was wrong with her, on top of all the other things wrong with her, and she didn’t like this. “You’re making me feel worse.”

“Now that is not my intention at all,” he murmured, turning left into the hotel parking lot.

“I know what you’re doing,” Roxy gritted out.

“You’re being overly nice to me, and being affectionate, getting me high on fancy meals and appetizers tonight, and now you’ll make me feel uncertain about it all.

You’re making me question if I even deserve nights like tonight.

Making me wonder if I need to give you something to prove myself. ”

“Something like what?” he asked.

“Like information on your brother. You’re shmoozing me so you can use me.”

Dylan’s jaw clenched so hard, a muscle twitched there as he parked an empty parking space away from her car. He threw his truck into park and leveled her with a look. She expected to find anger there at being called out, but a softness existed in his expression instead.

“Someone hurt you,” he said. “Who?”

“What?” she asked, ready to argue.

“Who made you so jaded that you can’t trust the intention of a man?”

“Men in general,” she spat out.

Dylan nodded. Just nodded. Did it for a few loaded seconds until she dropped her gaze. “Forget it. I have to go to work.”

“Hey,” he said, grabbing her wrist before she could escape.

She froze, considering ripping her arm from his grasp.

“I would like to talk to you, but not where you’re looking for a fight,” he said low.

Chest heaving with her quick breath, she pulled her arm from his grip. “Say it fast so I can go.”

“You’re a grenader.”

“That’s not even a word.”

“It is between us. When you get on the verge of having a good time, you get protective of your life, and you sabotage the good stuff, don’t you? You throw a grenade on it so it reacts, and you can feel justified when you walk away angry.”

Roxy’s heart was pounding so hard right now. She felt exposed to someone who could see her too well. All she wanted to do was crawl under the roof of the Rabbit Hole and disappear into the dark.

But…for reasons she couldn’t fathom, she couldn’t make herself get out of his truck. Being seen was terrifying. It had also been so damn long since she’d gone invisible, and he was reminding her she existed right now. That part…that part she had to stay for.

She didn’t know why. She just had to.

“I have to be a grenader,” she whispered thickly, shocked at the emotion that clawed its way up her throat. “It’s the only thing that keeps the life I live acceptable.”

“I get that.”

She shook her head. “How could you, Dylan? How could you understand that? You are here for fun. For a hunt. You could turn this truck left on Main and head straight back to Wreck’s Mountains, and you would have a Crew that gave you a hug and told you they missed you, and your life would go straight back to awesome.

” She dragged a shaking breath into her lungs.

“I have a Crew of monsters who picked me to be a toy, and no way out. Not ever. This is what it is, Dylan. This is my life, and I don’t have something I can fall back on. Leaving would get me killed.”

“Staying will kill you too. It’s just a slower death.”

“I hate you,” she said, ignoring the lie in her tone.

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. You’re making my life harder. You’re filling my head with nonsense. I am nothing, and I will always be nothing. A little coyote in a Crew of grizzlies.”

“Why did they Turn you?”

“There it is. You can’t help it. I knew you were here for information.”

And there was a flash of anger in his eyes as he shook his head. “That’s not fair. I’m not asking about what happened to my brother—”

“You will. I’m your mark. I’m the one you’ve chosen to manipulate into spilling the truth.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true—”

“Bullshit,” he said louder. “You think I brought you out tonight to manipulate you? I fucking loved watching you trade jokes with my mom. I fucking loved you offering to teach my own freaking mom to dance like you do. I know she’ll love it.

I know she’ll have fun. I know you’ll have fun too, because my mom is good, and I think you lack good people in your life.

” Dylan leaned closer. “I don’t know the bears you run with, but I listen, and I’ve heard not one damn good thing about any of them.

Why did they Turn you, Roxy? I’m not asking about my brother.

I’m asking about you, because believe it or not, I give a damn. ”

Truth. Truth, truth, truth, and she couldn’t do this! She couldn’t allow him to do this to her! She’d built walls around her heart, and he was demolishing them with a baseball bat right now.

Panicking, she jumped out of the truck and slammed the door behind her. She could hear the slide of the window rolling down behind her as she felt for her keys in her purse.

“Grenade,” he said simply.

And she fumbled her keys into the door, then got in as fast as she could. She turned on her car in desperation and put it into drive.

And then she made a mistake. She glanced over at him, and he was sitting just where he was.

From this angle, she could only see his face through the open window.

He was leaning on the console, his hand cupping his chin.

He looked disappointed. It was the disappointment in his eyes that shattered her anger.

He was so right. She was a grenader.

Feeling raw and exposed, she slammed her hand onto her steering wheel over and over and screamed as loud as she could. It didn’t help. It didn’t put the tears back into her eyes.

Beside her, the door opened, and Dylan was standing there. His eyes were soft, and full of concern. “Come here,” he murmured.

“I have to…I have to…” She didn’t even know. “I have to stop existing,” she sobbed.

He leaned down and slid his strong hand around hers and tugged her up. He was so gentle as he pulled her against his chest, and he held her hand right between them and rested his cheek against the top of her head.

And she fell apart. God, how mortifying, but she couldn’t stop. She hadn’t cried in so long and now she couldn’t lock it all away again.

He swayed her like a dance, and she went limp against him, just feeling demolished.

Why had he done this to her? Why? Why had she given him the power to do this? She didn’t know him. Dylan was a stranger, mostly. Why was she crying against this stranger’s chest like he was the one who could put her back together again.

No one could save her.

“Why did they Turn you?” he asked in a whisper.

No defenses left, she told him, “Because I was engaged to the Alpha. I was in love with him, and he was experimenting on me.”

“Why the coyote? Why not a bear?”

“Too big a risk. They don’t want she-bears in the Grit-Bron Crew, Dylan. He wanted a little animal he could control.”

“You didn’t have a choice?”

She huffed a humorless sound and shook her head against his chest. “It’s a two-part process,” she whispered, knowing she was breaking all the rules.

“They drug you first. It puts your brain to sleep, but it also weakens your organs. Blood vessels. Skin. You become fragile so that when they inject you, your body doesn’t fight the animal.

Makes it faster. Makes it to where you can’t stop them. ”