Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)

She blushed and twisted the basket away, trying to hide her romance novel. “My best friend is going to kill me for getting this. I try to buy everything on the e-reader he gave me, but I can’t seem to walk into a store that sells books without putting one in my basket. It’s like crack.”

 

 

A man walked by with a bottle of shampoo, rushing toward the register. April accidentally backed into him, and one of her jeweled sandals slipped off. She blushed and smiled apologetically before he kept going.

 

“I’ll swing by this week, April. Nice meeting you, and thanks for the polish tip.”

 

“You too, Izzy. I like that name.”

 

She disappeared toward the shampoo aisle, and I wandered up front and placed a box of protein bars in my basket.

 

“Will this be all for you, ma’am?” the cashier asked.

 

“Yes, please.”

 

I hated being called ma’am. I knew I still looked in my mid-twenties, but I hated being addressed so formally, even if I understood the reason behind it. Personally, I never called my customers sir. I learned their names and established a relationship with them. But humans had their customs.

 

An insistent ring chimed from my purse, and I pulled out my phone. “This is the party to whom you are—”

 

“Izzy, goddammit.”

 

I paid the cashier. “Hi, Hawk. Did you forget something?”

 

Like telling me how much he loved me. Which he never did; we didn’t have that kind of relationship. He loved my ass, loved my meatloaf, and he even loved my red hair. But he didn’t love me.

 

“Where are you?”

 

“Shopping for the necessities.”

 

“I need you to necessitate your ass home. I ran into some trouble, and I want you to get off the streets.”

 

Get off the streets? Who says that?

 

“Hawk, I’m fine. Nobody in this city knows who I am, let alone where I am,” I said, walking toward my cute little blue car.

 

“Izzy,” he warned.

 

“I have to pick up some groceries on the way home and buy a new bra.”

 

“Izzy…”

 

“I’m hanging up now…”

 

Hawk was mad. I could hear it in the inflection of his profanities. “Get your fucking ass home right fucking now. I will find you, come get you, and drag you home if I have to.”

 

“Fine,” I growled in the phone, stuffing it into my purse.

 

I slumped in my car and shut the door, wondering why it was so hard to find a good Shifter. Either they were bossy or they would treat me like one of the guys. Maybe I wanted to be spoiled once in a while. But Shifters could be abrasive, belligerent men. Except with their life mate. I’d convinced myself those women possessed a secret love potion they weren’t sharing with the general public—one that tamed the primitive ways of a Shifter and made them do romantic things like buy flowers and rub their woman’s feet with scented oils.

 

Deciding not to argue, I turned the key and rolled down the windows, ready to head home.

 

Until a long arm reached through my window and yanked my keys out of the ignition.

 

“Hey!” I squinted and glanced up, wondering if someone was playing a prank.

 

“You sure that’s her?”

 

A man with a black mustache shaped like an upside-down horseshoe bent over and looked at me with droopy eyes. It looked like a biker mustache, although I didn’t know all the different names for facial hair. It resembled a long set of handlebars to me.

 

“Yeah, that’s her,” he replied.

 

As soon as I reached for the passenger door, he caught my left arm in a tight grip.

 

“Haul her in,” the other voice said. “Let Delgado decide what he wants to do with her.”

 

“Let me go!”

 

Handlebars tugged my arm and glanced up at my hair. “You a real redhead?”

 

I bit my lip. Redheads learned not to answer that question; it always led to another question we had heard a million times before, one about the carpet matching the drapes.

 

“Come on, sweetie.” The door clicked open and he jerked me to my feet. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

 

“What’s this about?” I wrenched away and held on to the door.

 

“It’s about your boyfriend, Hawk. He’s been overcharging and taking a cut. Our boss doesn’t like people stealing from him.”

 

I furrowed my brow. “Is this about drugs?”

 

Handlebars stirred with laughter and shifted his eyes at the guy behind me. He was a scrawny little bug-eyed man, missing a front tooth. I didn’t sense this guy was Breed. I felt confident dealing with humans, but the last thing I needed was for my wolf to get cocky and shift in broad daylight. That kind of stunt could land me in trouble with the authorities.

 

“Ain’t she adorable?” Handlebars chuckled and leveled out his tone. “I say we keep her. Yeah, sweetie, it’s about drugs. Your boyfriend was set up this morning by Delgado and busted in the act. Before our guy could take him out, Hawk fired a few rounds and took off. We’re looking for him, and we know he’ll be looking for you.”

 

I stilled in shock. Drugs? Exchanging gunfire?

 

“How do you know I’m Hawk’s girlfriend?”

 

“Sweetie, Delgado makes it his business to know everything.”