I debated sharing my history with him and decided just to make it brief. “It’s not a real exciting story. No dad that I know of, so we have that in common.” I briefly felt my face get hot, hoping that wasn’t too rude to say. Then, I continued, “My mom died when I was five. Aunt Nora raised me, so she’s like a mother to me. Her kids, my cousins, are like my siblings. Decided to become a nurse like her because I admire her so much. Never been married—not even close—and no kids.”
“Well, thanks for sharing that with me, Emory Bloome. One question, though.” He stared intently at me.
“Shoot,” I replied, now feeling more relaxed and definitely un-edgy since the food was making a huge impact in combatting my hangry-ness.
“How old are you?”
I laughed. “Guess I left that part out. I’m twenty-nine. And you’re thirty-one, right?”
“Wow, either you’re psychic, or just that good.” He grinned at me curiously.
“Neither. Just pretty good at math. You were eighteen when you had the warrant thirteen years ago. I’m not the only good listener in the room.” I winked at him.
We continued to have an easygoing conversation for the rest of the meal. I definitely liked this guy. He paid for dinner, I drove him back to get his motorcycle at the Stop-N-Shop, which was now closed, and we ended our night there. He kissed me, hot and aggressive, but slow and sexy, and then took off on his damn donorcycle.
As I stared at his retreating figure, I wondered when I was going to break it to him that I would never, ever be getting on that thing with him. I remembered he had a Mustang and had to figure out a way to tell him he’d have to pick me up in that if we ever went out again.
117
Holden
Shifting and running was a great way to blow off all my pent-up sexual frustration. God, even the way that woman ate an omelet was sexy. I’d had to try not to stare at her lips when she was putting those sausage links into her mouth.
I ran as fast as I could through trees and bushes, glad my buddy Drake had come along. He was a new prospect with the club, and we were both leopard shifters, so we’d become fast friends. As I ran, I wondered how in the hell I was supposed to explain to Emory what I was. She was 100% human, I was sure of it, and it wasn’t like I could just come right out and tell her. Keeping what we were a secret was part of the code. I briefly wondered how long I could hide it from her. I’d done a good job of hiding it when I’d been locked up, only shifting a handful of times in those six years—and it had taken a piece of my soul. There had been no place I could run free except the recreation yard. I’d been so relieved when they’d transferred me to a minimum-security camp-type facility for good behavior, because I was able to sneak out at night and run around the grounds before having to be back in time for count. The thought to just run away and not come back had been so tempting, but I didn’t want to face having to be on the run, change my identity, and always look over my shoulder. So… I did my time and was glad it was over and done with. I was proud of what I’d accomplished since I’d gotten out and was happy with the decision not to escape from prison.
Drake ran alongside me in his leopard form, his body as sleek and muscular as mine. While I was gray with black and charcoal spots, he was tan with brown ones. He’d shown me this secluded spot of federally owned land outside of the main state park that was nearly deserted all year long. The only other living things we saw out here were an occasional owl and some wild rabbits. They avoided us, though, because they usually ended up being our after-run snack.
I thought about asking Drake what I should do in my situation with Emory but decided against it. I could sense his mind was heavy with something and I didn’t want to burden him with my problems. Besides, he would just tell me to find a female shifter to date, and that wasn’t happening. Not only were they few and far between, the good ones were taken. All the club whores were shifters, but they weren’t dating material. They were there for our carnal pleasure, nothing more. And even then, I’d never sampled any of them. The thought of them being bent over or mouth-fucked by all my club brothers kinda turned me off. No matter how hot they looked.
Drake and I ran for hours and hours, hardly tiring but stopping for a drink anyway. A slight stream ran through this area of the woods and it had perfectly cool water, especially on a hot summer day.
As I was lapping up water, a sound caught my sensitive hearing and I froze. The whoosh of something whizzed by my ear and I nudged Drake with my snout. He’d also stopped drinking and had heard it, too.
“Those bastards will make for some gorgeous pelts. Especially the gray one! And I could sure use the dough,” I heard a man’s thick, Southern-accented voice say.
Drake and I took off into the trees, and I turned around briefly and saw two older men with rifles running after us.
“What the hell are they doing?” I asked Drake through our telepathic shifter bond. Not all shifters could communicate this way, but both of us could. It was why we’d become such fast friends.
“I don’t know, but maybe we should split up,” he replied as we ran as fast as we could.
“No,
