He laughed and leaned down, opening a door. “Sanchez isn’t going to jail.”
“Why not?” I lifted my head and he looked down at me with pale brown eyes that were as bright as amber but warm like honey.
“Because he’s going into the ground.”
Wheeler leaned forward and deposited me on the bed.
“Whose room is this?”
“Yours.”
When I looked to my right and saw a giant poster of Billy Joel, a laugh burst out. “Oh. My. God.”
“I think ‘what the fuck’ was my choice of words, but yeah. Reno’s had the room closed up for the past couple of days, bringing stuff in.”
I sat on a lavender bedspread with tiny black designs, and the same mirrors we’d bought for my trailer decorated the walls. “Can I see that?”
Wheeler lifted a small snow globe from the dresser and handed it to me. It wasn’t one of mine, and my eyes glittered with tears when I thought about what I’d lost. It was the sentimental stuff like this—pieces of my father that I’d never have back. I shook it and snow swirled around a small cottage surrounded by fir trees.
“What did Reno say to you when we drove up?”
Wheeler averted his eyes. “He said you saved his wolf. Is that true?”
I nodded.
“Maybe that’s why I trust you a little bit more than I did before. If he had tried to shift with a screwdriver lodged in his flesh, it might have killed him. I don’t take that shit lightly. We’re Shifters, and saving one of our brothers means something. If you’re his woman, then we have to respect that choice because he’s family. And we don’t turn our back on family.”
I handed the trinket back to Wheeler when Reno appeared in the doorway.
They didn’t say anything to each other. Wheeler swaggered out of the room, but not before Reno gave him an appreciative pat on the shoulder.
“Is this okay?” Reno asked.
He bent over and elevated my legs onto the bed, forcing me to turn around. I propped a pillow behind my head and he stuffed one underneath my right calf.
Lynn breezed in and set a glass of red juice on the table with a plate of cheese, crackers, and grapes. “You need anything, hon?” she asked smoothly, looking at me with faded blue eyes. “I’m so sorry to hear about your home, but we’re glad you’re okay and that’s all that matters.”
“Thanks, Lynn. I just need some rest.” The reality hit me like a ton of bricks that I didn’t have a home.
“Come on, Reno. Out,” she snapped.
“Lynn, with all due respect, you’ll need a fucking bulldozer to get me out of here.”
She sighed impatiently and looked at me in a motherly way. “What this girl needs is sleep, and don’t let her move that foot around. April, when you need to take a shower or do anything, just call.” Then she glared at Reno. “I don’t care what you two have going on—if she needs to use the toilet or shower, that’s where I draw the line. You let the women help out with that.”
He smirked hard and walked around to the right side of the bed as she closed the door. Reno kicked off his boots and unlatched his belt. I giggled a little when I heard it hit the floor.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, not expecting an answer as he scooted next to me on my right.
“I can’t believe you put that poster on the wall. Why did you decorate this room? Was your secret plan to kidnap me and hold me captive?”
He leaned back and situated himself so that his left arm slipped beneath my neck while his right hand stroked my stomach. “I wanted you to feel at home when you came to stay the night here. You wouldn’t like my room.”
“Why not?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s plain.”
“So is vanilla ice cream, but it’s my favorite flavor.”
Reno deepened his voice. “Why did Sanchez call you Vanilla in that note?”
I bit my lip. “He was inside the store asking for vanilla candy and that’s how it started.”
His eyes became brutally sharp. “Austin hooked up surveillance outside the building months ago. Tell me what day and time he came in, and I’ll get the footage. I want to know what that animal looks like.”
“I have his phone number. You can always call him.”
“Maybe I don’t want him expecting company,” Reno suggested in a way that sent a shiver up my spine. He stroked my stomach possessively. “I’m not going to sugarcoat it for you, April. Sanchez is mine. He put his hands on you, and he tried to set you on fire. That officially earned him top billing on my hit list. Do you want to tell me what he looks like or what kind of car he drives?”
Reno’s touch was soft, but his face was granite. He looked down at me with cold eyes and a tight mouth. Those bullwhips of electricity were snapping in the room again.
“I think he drives a silver BMW. He’s got black hair that’s spiky, and one of those chin patches,” I said, pointing below my lip. “He’s a little taller than me, but not much.”
“Any tattoos or scars?”