Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)

“What you saw at the house—that wasn’t what you think. I was—”

 

“I know. You don’t have to explain. She drugged you and it wasn’t your fault. I just got confused all over again. I don’t know how to explain it.”

 

“Maybe it’s time that you and your wolf start making agreements. I know what your animal wants, Isabelle. It’s you who keeps doubting. You had a good reason to run away from home; no one should treat their sister that way. You ran away from me all those years ago and had good reason; no one should treat a friend that way. But hell, I’m asking you not to run this time. I want to show you how you deserve to be treated.”

 

I swallowed thickly and looked away.

 

“My pack won’t treat you like that, Isabelle. I know why you’re scared.”

 

I brushed my hair away from my face. “Then you can’t ask me to do this. You can’t expect me to not be terrified of something I’ve never known before—afraid that I could trust you and…”

 

He cupped my cheeks and kissed me softly on the mouth. “I’m not pushing you, because I know it’ll make you run again. I’m not Hawk—I don’t have any dark secrets that I’m keeping from you. Maybe I have secrets, but they’re not the kind that will tear us apart, and I want to share them with you.”

 

“Yeah? What’s one of your secrets?” I asked in disbelief. Jericho had a dark past, but he wasn’t a dark person.

 

He leaned in tight. “That I’m going to hunt down the man who tried to drown you and end his life.”

 

“You’ll never find him. It was dark. Even Wheeler didn’t get a good look.”

 

“Yeah, he did.”

 

My brows popped up. “Say again?”

 

He tipped his head to the side. “Delgado sent a man to collect the goods from Reno and Wheeler. He made the fatal mistake of making a snide remark to Wheeler about how he should have just cut your throat and slaughtered you like a pig. Wheeler tracked him down, and I have his address burned into my memory.”

 

“You wouldn’t.”

 

But yes, he would. Never mess with a Shifter whose wolf thirsts for blood.

 

“You can’t do that, Jericho. They’ll put you in Breed jail for killing a human.”

 

He licked his lips, and darkness pulsed in his eyes. “As it turns out, he’s not human.”

 

I covered my face and shook my head. “This has just been a crazy month. I’m sitting naked on top of a dresser in a sleazy motel, having a deep conversation with a guy I’ve spent the last twenty years thinking was in a grave. All these old ghosts are coming back, my ex turned out to be a psychopathic maniac, I had thugs tracking me down, almost died in a hot tub, I’m eating soup out of a plastic container, and I walked in on you passed out with a naked woman. I know it wasn’t your fault; I’m just so confused. And it doesn’t help that I’m in heat!”

 

Jericho laughed sexily and smoothed out my hair so that it covered my breasts. “Have you ever told someone that you loved them?”

 

“The guy at 7-Eleven who bought me a donut when I was fifty cents short.”

 

“I’m serious.”

 

I shrugged. “It was a good donut.”

 

Jericho’s lips twitched. He gently touched my shoulders as if we were having an ordinary conversation anywhere. But we weren’t. I had my coochie on display while Jericho was swinging in the breeze. He licked his lips, and a smile crossed his expression. “I’ve got an idea. You with me?”

 

I nodded.

 

“All right. Here’s the deal. You go through this heat thing…”

 

“Easy for you to say.”

 

He shushed me with a finger pressed to my lips. “You get through this cycle and then go back to work.”

 

“If Jake hasn’t fired me.”

 

“Don’t sweat it,” he said in a deep voice. “He’s cool, just a bottom-line kind of guy. You’ll have your job, and I’ll go back to playing my shows.”

 

“So that’s it? That’s your plan? Go back to what we were doing?”

 

“No more women.”

 

My heart skipped a beat. “Say again?”

 

“I’ll give you time, baby, because that’s what you need. But guess what? I’m not letting you slip through my fingers again. I’m putting my claim on you, and that means if anyone messes with you, then he’ll answer to me. Maybe I can’t call you my girl just yet, but I’m going to look after you. I’m going to make you smile and dance at the donut shop with your bad self. We’re going to be best friends again, so that means we hang out and watch movies like we used to do. What we have ain’t just about the sex, and damn, the sex is off the charts. It’s about the spark, like you’re the melody and I’m the words.” His voice fell to a soft whisper. “You don’t have to tell me you love me—just put on this shirt.” He handed me the Pink Floyd shirt, and I put it on my lap. “When you decide to wear it, then I’ll know.”

 

“Know what?”