Scared shitless by how deeply I loved him. My heart had shattered seeing him in that condition, and I realized that maybe I couldn’t have it all. Maybe Jericho was just as unattainable as he made himself out to be onstage. Just within reach, but something I could never hold on to.
What scared me the most was how much I wanted to hold him and never let go. The visceral pain of seeing him hurt made me realize how it would crush me if something ever happened to him. I couldn’t bear the thought that if I gave him my heart, it wouldn’t be enough. He could end up killing himself with this careless lifestyle! I’d never lost anyone before, and as foolish as it seemed, I wanted to let him go now before the choice was no longer mine.
His pack didn’t stop me. They were busy helping Jericho, which is where I should have been. Tears stung my eyes as I started up my car and sped down the road, leaving a cloud of midnight dust behind me. I needed time to think—I was so confused and still shaking. I could have shifted and ripped that woman’s throat out, that’s how close I was to losing control. My heart ached with a torrent of emotions ripping through me: anger, rejection, guilt, and disappointment.
But I was so damn mad that Jericho put himself in that situation. I had been attacked the previous night in the trailer, not that I expected him to be wallowing around about it, but to walk in on him and his band partying with a bunch of groupies?
And in his house! If I moved in with them, who’s to say that wouldn’t still go on? Women would always be a constant temptation. A constant threat.
And there it was again. So pathetic. Maybe it boiled down to that irrational fear women have that somehow we’re not enough. I had all the self-confidence in the world about the kind of woman I was, but was it enough for Jericho?
A tingling sensation struck me warmly between the legs—I was going into heat soon, just as the alpha had predicted. Super. Just what I needed. Jake was going to fire me for sure. Technically, he couldn’t. There were Shifter laws that protected women from job termination due to hyperactive ovaries, but he was only keeping me on because of Jericho.
When I turned on the radio, the Beatles lamented the death of Eleanor Rigby. I should have changed the channel, but I rolled down the windows and let it go. Human artists seemed to understand the impermanence and sorrows of life. Maybe that’s why I’d been so attracted to Jericho’s lifestyle when we’d first met, because he shared those views and showed me how to live in the moment.
God, he was unbelievable. Just a shining light in the world, one of those people you meet who you know is going to leave his footprint. How tragic he would never rise to the fame he so richly deserved, all because he was a Shifter. You can fake your death and change your name, but you can’t erase your face from people’s memories, or your voice.
As the melody ended, I remembered the Beatles song he’d sung in the bar about yesterday. Oh hell’s bells, I was turning into a sappy sentimental fool, just like those girls I always rolled my eyes at. But now I understood how confusing and painful love could be.
So many conflicting emotions swept through me that it became impossible to know what the right thing to do was. He’d told me he loved me, and that resonated. Jericho seemed so willing to open up to me, and I was beginning to close like a book that didn’t want to be read.
Now I was the one with all the insecurities, fears, and trouble. Jericho had cleaned up his act, and here I was dodging drug dealers, playing kidnap victim to my ex, and losing control to my murderous wolf.
That’s why packs rarely took in rogues like me. They’d never trust a girl who grew up in a house full of cougars. I felt like fate had steamrolled right over me.
In fact, I began to get mad at myself. I decided to give me the silent treatment.
Of all times to be going into heat. Now I needed to find a motel and ride it out. With luck, it would end quickly.
Chapter 23
“Eat,” Austin insisted, shoving a plate of food in front of Jericho.
It must have been around three in the morning, and Jericho had a killer hangover. He wrinkled his nose at the corn and leftover greasy sausage. “I’m not hungry.”
Austin angrily rapped his knuckles on the table. “You can pick it up and put it in your mouth, or I can shove it down your throat. You’re still unsteady on your feet; I want you to drink more water to flush that shit out of your system.”
The last thing Jericho remembered was listening to Trevor hum out a melody, and then everything had gotten fuzzy and tangled. He saw glimpses of images in his head, but he wasn’t sure if they were memories from long ago or hallucinations.
He shoved the damn sausage in his mouth to appease Austin even though his stomach roiled. “What happened last night?” he asked around a mouthful of food. It’s not a question he’d had a chance to ask because the last two hours had been spent hovering over the toilet. Man, did that bring back some dark memories.