“No.” I blink, then go on until my voice gets stronger by the word. “I’m in one percent of the baddest fuckers in the world. I proudly wear the patch and tattoo because that’s who I am. I’m married to this club. If they need me at 3:00 a.m., so be it. My ass is out the door. Brotherhood comes first before everything, including my freedom.”
She glances toward me, probably rethinking bringing me here.
I take a breath. “I meant what I said. I gave you my word to help figure this out. If one of my brothers is being set up, I need to prove it. If one is breaking code, I need to know. Me being here isn’t betraying anybody. But now that you know what kind of man I am, you got to let me in all the way. If we’re going to do this, I need to know what you know.”
She nods, then gets up, and moves to the door before she looks back, cocking an eyebrow. “You coming or you waiting for an engraved invitation?”
I take a final swig, then leave the beer to follow her. I only know it’s her bedroom because of the messy sheets over the mattress. Every other surface is covered with papers and photos. On the beige walls, there are multiple whiteboards hanging with timelines. Colored lines of red, blue, and yellow crossing through lists of places, dates, and photos. Looks like a conspiracy theorist’s setup.
I whistle. “I’ve been to a lot of bedrooms, but this would be a first.”
“I’ve been at this for a while since I got back. Here is every piece of evidence out there.”
I watch her watching me, she’s shifting her weight from one foot to the next. “I think it’s time we call it a night.” I’m beat and could use to time to myself to wrap my head around the situation.
“You’re right. You can sleep in the room two doors down from here on the right. If you need it, I keep an extra toothbrush in the cabinet.”
“Thanks, you going to be okay?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry about me. See you in the morning, Brayden.”
134
Lizzie
Cruelly, the sun cuts through the slits in the blinds, hitting me with the harsh reality that it’s the start of yet another day.
I lay in bed longer than I should have, unable to get myself moving. Exhaustion mixed with fear has taken over. I step inside the bathroom and turn the tap on full blast for a hot shower. I let the warm sprays of heat pulse over my skin.
“This is all your fault. If you were different, I’d still be here.” Her voice echoes in my head, just as it did in the dream. “Maybe this is what you wanted all along. To be rid of me. Help me, Lizzie! I’m waiting, why don’t you come find me?”
I’m sorry, Linda. I’m so sorry. I slide down the cool tile until I’m sitting in the bottom of the tub with my knees pulled up to my chest, sobbing like a baby.
When my fingers begin to prune, I know I’ve been in here longer than I should. I quickly step out and dry off. I slip on a pair of jeans and a sweater. It looks like I’m wearing hand-me-down clothes that belong to someone else. I hadn’t noticed how much weight I’ve lost over the past sixty days.
When I open the bathroom door, I almost trip over Brayden’s long legs. He’s sitting on the floor, his back against the wall staring at the bathroom door. I somehow manage to keep my eyes open and on him as guilt rips through my core.
“I was waiting for you. I talked to Lee about taking care of the tire for your car. He was going to swing by to take us in the truck, so you wouldn’t have to ride on the bike in the rain.”
“I’m ready now, let’s go then.” I move into the kitchen where I open up the fridge, wanting something cool to soothe the ache in my throat. Orange juice it is.
“Not to worry, I sent them on ahead and they got it done. They put on four new tires for you, as the others were getting close to bald. I told him to bring it by here so you could have it.” I take a glass out of the cabinet and slam the door shut. I move back over to the island to pour myself a drink and find that he’s still hovering over me.
“You okay?” Brayden asks, and I just want him to let me be. Shifting my body around him, I return the bottle to the fridge and slam that door too.
“I’m fine.” My tone is pissy and rude. I move over to the sink, tilt my head back, and chug the entire glassful, then rinse it out and set it aside.
“No, honey, you’re not fine. I heard you crying. Not just now in the bathroom, but last night too. You know Linda doesn’t blame you for any of this.” That’s it! I snap and whirl on him full of fury.
“Stop doing that! Getting inside of my head and trying to figure me out. Can you just NOT be you for a moment?”
“I can’t.”
“Yes. You can. You think you’re being helpful coming in here and saving the distraught girl, but you have no idea what I’m going through.”
“Then talk to me.”
“I’m living in agony, Brayden. This is my fault.”
“You can’t blame yourself for any of this.”
“Why do you care? Yesterday I was nothing more than the girl who ruined your night.”
“Because. I know this whole being around other shifters is new for you. But there’s a special connection, a unique bond that only two share when mated. It’s not just sexual attraction or
