Page 39

Cameron

W hen I finally clawed my way out of sleep, a myriad of thoughts fluttered through my mind.

Nightmares and strange dreams had plagued me all night.

Flashes of sharp canines, soft fur, growling maws, and gunshots.

I lay there, eyes still closed, trying to decipher what exactly happened the night before. What was a dream, and what was real?

I remembered running from the gym, padding along the sidewalk in bare feet, my lungs burning by the time I got to a busy bar.

Even in my distress, I remembered the psychotic attacker.

Nate’s words about not going anywhere alone rang in my head.

The bouncer didn’t even bother stopping me, too confused by the fancy dress I was wearing.

Once inside, I found the place was more like a dive bar—booths and stools lined with a combination of working-class men and a few clusters of college-aged kids.

“Hey, girl? You got a man?” someone had catcalled as I hurried across the room to the bartender. I ignored them.

“Can I, uh, get you a drink?” the bartender, a pudgy man in his fifties, asked.

I flopped my clutch down on the bar, shaking my head vehemently. “No. I just needed a safe place to call a cab.”

He eyed me with concern. “Did someone hurt you?”

His worry almost sent me off into a gale of sobbing, but I managed to choke it back, wiping at the tears already running down my face.

“Heartbreak,” I muttered. “Nothing physical. Thank you.” Though that wasn’t entirely true. I was pretty sure I’d have bruises on my arm where Rick had grabbed me.

“Well, you let me know if I can call someone for you,” he said, and moved farther down the bar, giving me privacy.

I summoned a car from a rideshare app. Within ten minutes, I was in the back of a car, being driven toward Lesley’s place on the ritzy east side of town. I couldn’t go home. The thought of explaining any of this to Mom was too much for me to fathom.

Now, I lay in bed in Lesley’s guest room, trying to sort out my life.

It had all been real. None of it had the fuzzy haze of a fading dream.

Nate had transformed into a wolf before my eyes.

He’d told me I was going to become like him.

Then, to put the cherry on top, the man I’d dated for months turned out to have some violent, psychotic side. Oh, and he was a magic wolfman, too.

Shifter . That was the word he and Nate used.

They were shifters. I turned the word over and over in my head, trying to figure out how something like this could be hidden in plain sight.

People all over were walking past men and women on the street who could transform into wolves.

How was this possible, and why the hell did it have to happen to me?

The smell of coffee, bacon, and toasting bread finally coaxed my eyelids open. My stomach gurgled. I was starving. I’d escaped the gala the previous night before the four-course meal was served.

Throwing off the covers, I found I was wearing one of Lesley’s sports bras and a pair of sweats. A muddled memory surfaced of Lesley pulling the covers up to my chin. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I got up and padded to the kitchen.

“Hello there,” Lesley said, eyeing me with worry. “How are you?” Her voice was thick and her eyes bloodshot. She’d been sick for days, and was only now beginning to get better.

The question was loaded with meaning. I could barely remember everything I’d said the night before, having been too distraught and mentally fried to tell her more than the very basics of what had happened.

All I knew for sure was that I hadn’t said a word about shifters.

I didn’t want Lesley to be involved in that.

As good a friend as she was, I had the feeling she’d think I had brain damage or something if she didn’t see it with her own eyes.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“You don’t look fine.” Lesley turned away from the stove, buried her face in her elbow, and sneezed. “Shit. Sorry,” she said, pulling a tissue from a box on the counter.

“I should be saying that,” I said. “I’m the one who barged into your place in the middle of the night.”

“That’s what friends are for.” She smiled tiredly and plucked strips of bacon off the pan, placing them on a plate.

“I’ve been a shitty friend, though,” I said. “I’ve barely talked to you since we got attacked except to tell you I broke up with Rick. You’re sick, and then I come crashing in, ruining your night and morning.” Shame and guilt welled up inside me.

Lesley pointed to the kitchen table with her spatula. “Sit down, calm down, and let’s chow down. Okay?”

Smiling, I flopped into the chair as she brought us plates of bacon, eggs, and toast. A pot of freshly brewed coffee sat between us.

“Now, I don’t want to pry,” Lesley said through a mouthful of toast, “but you were not in any shape last night to tell me exactly what happened. So, spill.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. I remembered Nate talking about the “secret” he couldn’t tell me.

Obviously that was him being a shifter—what other secret could be that big?

He’d told me he couldn’t tell me more without putting himself in danger.

Maybe there was some honor code about them not revealing themselves to humans?

It would make sense, given no one had ever heard of these things.

If the secret was that well-kept, the only punishment was probably a slow and painful death or something.

Not wanting to get my best friend in life-or-death trouble, I decided to be more vague than I normally would be.

“It’s Rick.”

“Rick?” Lesley asked with her brows furrowed. “Oh my God, has he been harassing you since you broke up with him?”

“He, uh, he asked me to go to the gala with him after we broke up. As friends—and as a way to see if I want to rethink the breakup. Which I don’t.

” I took a sip of coffee. I needed the caffeine.

“I found out something about him. He’s, uh, he hasn’t been honest with me.

He’d been hiding something. Something really big. ”

Lesley gasped and slapped her hand to her mouth. “Is Rick gay?”

“What?” I asked, nearly dropping my coffee mug.

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s…” I thought back on the way his mother had insisted that he speak to another woman at the gala.

“His parents don’t like me. They were trying to set him up with other ladies.

Better matches, I guess you could say. Women who come from money and whatnot. This was before they knew we broke up.”

“Was he screwing around on you?” she asked, pointing at me with a fork. “If he was, I’ll cut his balls off.”

“No,” I said, spinning the story to mostly match what really happened.

“Rick doesn’t have a choice.” Which was true, as he didn’t have a choice about being a shifter.

“And he didn’t actually go out with these women, but his parents were setting it up to make sure they were at the same place he was. I, uh, well… I found out last night.”

Lesley shook her head and ate a few more bites before responding. “I know breakups are hard, but I think this is all for the best. These people don’t sound like the type you’d want in your life forever. They sound exhausting .”

“I know. I still wish I could provide a better life for my family. I sort of thought Rick could help with that. It was a shit reason to date someone, and I realize that now.” I poked at my eggs.

“Can I speak freely for a second?” Lesley said, eyeing me.

“Uh oh. That’s never good.”

“Can I?”

“Sure. Let me have it.”

She chewed at her lower lip for a second, staring at me before speaking.

“I kept hearing you say stuff about your plans for your future, but you never really spoke about Rick and how you felt about him. You never seemed head over heels for him. It was almost like you were more attached to the grand life Rick could give you than being with Rick.” She leaned forward, pinning me with her eyes.

“Were you ever really in love with him? Or just the idea of him?”

Her statement was like a physical blow. But it wasn’t far from the truth. Hadn’t I thought that very thing to myself just before I broke up with him? That I’d seen Rick more as a means to an end instead of a true relationship?

I hated that I’d been that shallow, and I didn’t want to admit that to my best friend.

“That’s… well, that’s crazy. Of course I loved him,” I said, fumbling my words as I spoke.

“You don’t sound convincing,” Lesley said.

“I know your family history. I get it. You don’t want your life to end up like your mother’s.

That’s a good reason to hold tight to an idea.

I don’t think it’s a good reason to hold on to a person, though.

Especially not one you aren’t completely sure is the one for you.

You’ve never said it outright, but from what you’ve mentioned in the past, I can tell you’re scared of becoming your mom.

Bouncing from guy to guy, chasing the high of a new relationship. You aren’t like your mom, Cameron.”

I wished I could be as sure about that as she was. The exact thing I was afraid of was happening with Nate. I was drawn to him, enthralled by everything about him, and it terrified me. He was just a lonely wanderer. How could he provide for us the way someone like Rick could have?

Lesley was right. Mom was always trying to satisfy that feeling of love she’d had with my father.

She went from man to man, heedless of how much that hurt her.

Men who walked out, who stole from us, who left us worse off than before.

Was that what I was doing with Nate? Following my hormones and not being analytical about it?

“There is… um, there’s something else, too,” I said, barely managing to get the words out. “Another guy.”

Lesley nearly dropped her fork. “ Excuse me? Where has this fucking bombshell news been hiding?”