Page 7 of Timber Hollow

7

Welcome Home, Artemis

new moon

T he sound of someone sneezing downstairs rouses me from a deep, deep slumber. Probably one of the maids.

The room is gloriously dark, warm arms cradle my body. Slowly, awareness of my limbs comes to me. A leg was thrown over Ethan’s hip, the other wedged between his legs.

One hand is wrapped around my front, pressed against my throat, thumb resting on my pulse point. The other is dipped below the waistline of my underwear, fingertips hooked on my hip bone. Heat spools low in my middle. Breathing slowly, deeply, I shift, snuggling back into the large, warm frame of Ethan, smirking when I feel his cock pulse against my hip.

Ethan?

I jolt awake, adrenaline spearing through me as I whip the blankets off. Who the fuck I am next to— on top of— I can’t say. Whoever it is, though, is half naked, and gloriously hung, if the impression of his thick dick against my hip is any indication. After work, I had crawled into my bed in only an old threadbare tank top and underwear. Apparently, I had been tired enough to forget to lock my door.

" Who the fuck are you?" I screech, reaching down under my pillow as I spring off of the bed. On instinct I flip the knife open, holding it so that the blade is tucked against the inside of my arm, out of sight.

"Who the fuck am I? Who the fuck are you ?" The man says in a gravely sleepy voice, throwing covers off of himself with a heavily tattooed, muscled arm. I know that voice.

" Oh, fuck me sideways, " is all I manage to croak as I lock eyes with the one person I haven’t let myself even consider running into. He isn’t supposed to be here.

How was he here ? In my fucking bed of all places?

Jay's hair is stuck up at all angles, and sleepy eyes that can never really decide if they want to be blue or green are staring straight through me. Like they always do.

"Artemis." He says my name, clearing his throat and I am instantly transported back into the terrified body of seventeen-year-old me, listening to him talk to his friends about me. About us.

A heartbeat passes, and yet it feels like I’m reliving every single moment I’ve ever spent with him.

We were always running hot and cold, constantly fluctuating between friends, and more. The truth is Jay had been my best friend before he was anything else. Anything more . Even when it was more, we were on, then off, then on again like the world was on fire.

Fighting, kissing. Laughing. Running. Fucking.

There was that summer when my mom had paid attention to me long enough to see the bite mark on the back of my shoulder from Jay. We'd been running in the fields together, and I'd made him chase me. The result was that my shoulder had the imprint of his wolfish teeth for weeks .

Sometimes, I swear the silvery scars are still there when the light catches my skin just right.

My mom, dear Darla, had warned me that what we were doing was more than just teenage love. I never did tell her that I'd bitten him back, and had drawn blood.

And then there was that winter when I was sure he hated me. The year I ran around town with the boys he wasn't friends with. I'd never seen Jay as jealous as the year I hung out with Brody Williams.

I’ll never forget Graduation weekend. I hadn't even walked across the stage, shaken hands with the principal, or thrown my cap up in the air with everyone else. I’d been long gone by then. Dropped contact with everyone—except Aggie—and disappeared into the night like smoke.

"Jay." I croak. Those fucking eyes are like a sucker punch to the gut. Tattoos crawl up his arms now, spreading across his chest and up his neck. Even his face is decorated with them close to his ear. The marking almost…. Looks like an arrow.

"What are you doing here?" Jay asks, shifting on the bed. The now entirely too small bed.

"This is my room." Adrenaline still courses through my veins. An air conditioner compressor kicks on somewhere in the house, filling the silence with dull roaring.

I am positive Jay can hear my heart thumping in my chest. The muscles on his jaw feather, and his Adam's apple bobs.

My mouth waters.

"This is Marcus ' room, and he's gone for a few months. How'd you get in?" Jay corrects, eyes flicking down my body and back to my face. A flash of heat goes straight through me, pebbling my nipples under the thin tank top I wear. I fight the blush that rises to my cheeks.

I don't think I am successful.

"I'm renting," I reply, feeling like I am poised on the edge of a blade, placing all my weight down. Letting the blade bite into my skin, rather than choose which way to go. With just my name, tumbling from his lips Jay reopened that old ragged wound. I hadn't realized it would reopen so easily.

A slow, lazy smile stretches across Jay's face, and I can’t decide if I want to wipe it off or see where it leads. Once upon a time, trouble followed a smirk like that.

Raising on all fours, he crawls across the small bed, putting his feet down on either side of mine, where I stand with my back flush against the still bare bookshelves. I stay still as stone, watching him with half-lidded eyes. My heartbeat ratchets up, and my lungs feel entirely too small.

What is he doing?

Then, Jay reaches out with both thick arms, bracing them on either side of my face on the shelf behind me. Instinctually, I raise my knife, holding it against his neck.

Jay doesn’t slow his advance, just keeps coming at me, letting me decide if I am going to let him move, or if I'd stop him with the blade at his throat. I let him come, only stopping him when he put his face so close to mine that I could smell the tequila on his breath from the night before. A single drop of blood wells at the tip of the blade.

"Welcome home, Artemis." Jay finally says, flicking his eyes down once more before he pushes away. Then he is gone. Gone like smoke between my fingers. I deflate, letting the bookshelf take all of my weight.

"Fuck." I bang my head against the bookshelf twice for good measure, then push off of it. I need a mother fucking shower. And then, I have to get ready to go to work.

The shower does nothing to cool my heated skin. Does nothing to relax the tension in my shoulders, in my core.

My wolf is restless. Now more than she'd ever been, even within the confines of the city. She is excited about the tension between Jay and I.

As I dress, I keep racking my brain as to how the hell I woke up in Jay's arms. Clearly, he knows this was Marcus' room, even if Marcus didn't have so much as even a poster on the wall. So why was Jay in the bed?

My hair is still wet, the bleached ends of it making me grit my teeth as I dutifully apply eyeliner, the wing sharp enough to cut a man. Mascara on curled lashes, bronzer, and highlighter to accentuate my cheekbones.

Then I clip a silver chain choker around my neck. A quick rough blowdry is enough to make my wavy hair manageable. It’ll air-dry the rest of the way.

I need to pick up hair dye though. Like, immediately.

Tonight is fire night, where George lights the bartop on fire with the cheap liquor. On those nights there is a slight dress code. Pants and boots are required. On my first night there, I quickly discovered that Coyote Bills had shit for air conditioning, just a few fans in prime locations. October seems right around the corner, but Summer has risen for one last hurrah, scorching the Earth for the last few days. It is going to be fucking hot in there tonight, even without the fire.

So in accordance, I just grab a little black bodysuit that is entirely backless but is high-necked in the front. It leaves most of my rib exposed and will dip beneath the waistband of whatever pants I choose in a v shape.

Eventually, I settle on black jeans, sliding my already socked feet into combat boots, tucking the laces in so I won’t have to replace them.

I haven’t been able to dress like this- like myself in a while. Cordelia once told me that the Whites do not dress like harlots, and forbade me from wearing outfits like this while I was in public with one of them. Which meant having my wardrobe pre-approved by Cordelia's stylist. Only then could I choose my clothes.

Looking back, I want to shake myself. What in the actual fucking hell was wrong with me ? I let them change so much of me. Had let them consume everything that made me, me , allowed them to mold and push me into their image of perfection.

I am sure that if Cordelia had been aware of the specific outfit I'd been wearing when her son asked me out, the engagement would have been called off in a millisecond. As it is, she'd have a coronary just picturing the short, tight black dress with mesh inserts all down the sides I wore to our date. Perhaps I'd have to dig that dress out and wear it if I ever saw the old hag again.

Turning away from my reflection I make my way out of the little room, into the house itself. According to the rental agreement, it is a shared space . My room is my own, but everything else is shared. I've only really come in, slept, and left. I hadn't even bothered to snoop around because of exhaustion.

Amazing timing for morals, Artemis.

The kitchen is full to the brim with bodies. Jay, a pair of men I’m not familiar with- and Jay's brother. A shower is running somewhere else in the house, so apparently this isn’t everyone.

A glance at the clock on the wall tells me I need to rush to leave to get to work on time.

Fuck .

Everyone freezes as I move into the kitchen. I really don’t have time for introductions, so I just make my way through them. Or try to anyway.

"Hellloooo, if I could just scoot-" I say, skirting around the tallest one with curly blonde hair and amused green eyes peeking out beneath the messy locks. He doesn’t move an inch, making me brush the bare skin of his chest as I go past. He’s leaning against the island, somehow taking up all the space around him.

"Asshole," I mumble, someone snorts and then starts coughing. My eyes snap to Jay's as he mops coffee off of his shirt.

"Well, hello, Tiny. Nice to meet you too ," The blonde says, chuckling. A half smile stretches his face, the bulging muscles on his arms are covered in ropy veins. A thin sheen of sweat covers his skin, but he smells clean, like the Sun. Not freshly showered clean- but he didn't reek like alcohol like Jay had either.

"Fuck you, I am not tiny ," I shoot back, opening the fridge and disappearing into it to find the Red Bull I'd stashed there last night. Jay groans behind me, and I ignore the shiver of pleasure, the reminder of what it felt like to be wrapped up with him in bed.

"Oh, yes baby." I coo, unearthing the can of liquid crack from under a plastic takeout bag, popping the tab, and immediately sucking down a few mouthfuls. Almost all eyes are on me as I hip-check the fridge door closed.

Jay, his blue eyes trace down the line of my ribs.

The blonde wears a wolfish grin as he leans against the counter, corded arms crossed in front of his bare chest.

And the silent one with close-clipped black hair, a three-day beard covering his chin, and skin the color of midnight has mischief dancing in his grey eyes.

Jay clears his throat, raising a hand to introduce me. "Guys, this is Artemis. She's subletting from Marcus while he's away."

The two nod their heads, murmuring a "Hello."

"Artemis, this is Saint and Dante," Jay says, gesturing to the blonde first, then the other one. "And you remember my brother Alex."

"Alex, nice to see you," I say, smiling sweetly at him. Alex and I hadn't interacted much when I was in high school. He'd been in a higher grade, and far outside my circle of friends. Still, I hope it will make Jay annoyed that I am being so nice to his brother and ignoring him. Jay is in the dog house until he tells me what in the fuck he was doing in my goddamn bed.

"Nice to see you too. Didn't know you were back in town."

"Yeah, nobody really does," I reply, and ignore Jay trying to catch my eye at that remark.

Alex and Jay don’t look alike, not really. The differences are clear enough to someone who knows them. The brothers have similar builds, and hair in a close shade but that's where the similarities end. Alex's eyes are dark blue, and consistently one color. Not indecisive like Jays.

"Well, this has been…. fun... But I have to go to work. Toodles, " I say, giving a little finger wave.

Spirit Fingers, yahs.

I don’t give anyone the chance to object or call me back before I leave the kitchen, breezing out of the house. I can’t stay inside for one second longer, with Jay's eyes on me like that. Hell, with any of their eyes on me like that. Every one of those boys are hot. I'm willing to bet they were walking red flags, just like Jay.

Well, not Alex. The ring around his third finger is obvious.

Fuck .

Welcome home, indeed.

At least the Corvette sounds nice when I speed away from the apartment.

Tiny Victories.