SIX MONTHS_(A Seven Series Novel Book 2)

Chapter 6


“How’s your nose?”
Trevor lifted the bloody rag from his face and studied it for a minute. Then his head fell back against the headrest of his car, and I handed him a bottle of spring water.
“Don’t ever tell anyone about this,” he said in a thick voice, taking a sip of water.
“It’s not the first time you’ve been in a fight.” But boy, had Trevor gotten his ass served on a platter. I’d had to help him into the passenger seat of his car and drive him home.
“I didn’t even get in one swing.” He sulked, shouldering his door open and slamming it behind him. Trevor stalked up to the trailer, unlocked the door, and began yanking grocery bags from the back of the car to haul inside.
I’d never seen him so agitated. He wasn’t an aggressive guy—but he had buttons like everyone else, and if you pushed the right ones, he went macho. Trevor liked to fight—it’s something he seemed experienced at, so when he knuckled up, it became like a halftime show. He’d flirt with bystanders and dodge swings while laughing. Something about it had been different this time. Trevor had not only confronted Reno in the grocery store, but he’d placed himself between us as if Reno were a threat to me.
Then he called Reno a freak.
A second later, Trevor was lying in the cereal aisle with a busted nose and bloody lip.
“Don’t be like that,” I said, grabbing two bags and heading inside. “Maybe if you stopped trying to beat up every guy who talks to me, I just might actually find Mr. Right.”
He slammed the paper bag on the counter and washed his hands. “I may give shit to some of the guys who hit on you, but I want to make sure they’re man enough to take you out. I don’t want him near you again.”
“What’s wrong with Reno?” I asked defensively, turning on the air conditioner and closing the front door. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with him the other day. The guy saved me from a wine mishap that could have made my walks home from work unbearable had I cut up my feet.”
Trevor leaned over the counter and looked at himself in an oval mirror, pinching the bridge of his swollen nose. “F*ck. Look, I need to go out for a bit.”
“What about your tacos?”
“Have a sandwich to tide you over. We’ll do a late dinner. I need a few hours.”
“Wait a second!”
Trevor swung around and cupped my head in his hands, giving me his crazy-sexy smile. “Don’t be mad, babe. I’m just looking out for you. Sometimes I can tell things about a person that you may not see because you’ve got blinders on.”
“What blinders?”
He tickled my eyelashes with his thumbs. “Those long lashes you bat around. There’s an invisible thing that all boys can see that girls can’t.”
“And what is that?”
Trevor backed away and walked out the door, glancing over his shoulder. “Intentions.”

Since it was late afternoon, I put the meat in the fridge and chopped up the lettuce and tomatoes, thinking about what had happened at the grocery store. I’m not sure what had come over Trevor or why he took off, but whenever he got moody, he needed his alone time.
After I cleared off the counter and put the toppings for the tacos in the fridge, I went in the bathroom and scrunched my hair, staring at myself in the mirror. I briefly wondered what Reno thought of me. My natural blond roots didn’t look that bad against the platinum, but still.
Platinum was more stylish, especially with my long bangs. I had an experimental dark streak of dye that was fading. Maybe my natural color was more of a perception thing; I hated the idea of being called the dumb blonde. Some girls just rolled with the jokes or blew them off, but I didn’t want a label on me that said I was the party girl who would get drunk and sleep around. Maybe because of my mother, I’d become more sensitive to that kind of thing than most girls.
Trevor was the one who suggested platinum because it had a tough image that most guys thought was more badass than sweet ass. When I threw on my dark eyeliner and mismatched clothes, men didn’t know what to think about me.
I wondered what Reno’s impression was.
The air conditioner cooled my neck and I opened up my laptop and tried to look him up on the Internet.
Jeez. Stalk much?
After closing the search window and choosing not to become one of those women, I opened up a few files that Lexi had given me. There were so many miscellaneous documents on the flash drive, and I hadn’t even begun to sort through them all.
Then I thought about how arresting Reno’s eyes had been when I’d lifted his sunglasses. How strong his arms felt when they’d crushed around me, and how close our bodies were when they’d molded together like a piece of art. I’d felt every solid thump of his heart beating against my chest. He had a strong heart—like a banging drum. He also hadn’t shaved, and I thought about how sexy it made him look. Something had altered from my first impression of Reno when he’d scared the wits out of me with his formidable presence. It’s something I could sense without explanation. Behind the fa?ade of a tough guy was a devoted man. Devoted to what, I couldn’t be sure. But I felt it just as sure as I’d smelled his skin and felt his arms encasing me.
In fact, I sat at my table creating a romantic scene in my head of our interlude at the grocery store.

Instead of Trevor coming up and starting a fight, I slide Reno’s glasses away from his head and drop them on the floor. Then I run my fingers through his short hair and he mumbles something about kissing him, so I do. I plant my lips on his mouth and at first, he’s uncertain. Not wanting to appear needy for his touch, I pull away, and that’s when he turns me around, knocks the items from the shelf with a swipe of his arm, and sets me down on it.
My legs are spread and he moves between them. Everything about him is smooth and unrushed. No groping. Just the feel of his strong hands barely resting on my hips, and it makes me want him even more because of his remarkable restraint. No one else in the store exists because… well… there was an evacuation. A tornado. Yeah, and we’re all alone because everyone ran into a ditch for cover. The wind is roaring outside, but it doesn’t match the sound of my heart. He kisses my neck softly, trailing his mouth across my clavicle and even lower until I softly moan…

“All right, fantasy time is over,” I said aloud, cracking open a can of soda. “I think all these books are going to my head.”
My time with Sanchez was running out. The marks around my pinky finger had made it difficult to sleep the night before. It’s not what I imagined him doing to me—it’s what I couldn’t imagine. I didn’t want to guess what guys like that did to terrorize clients who didn’t pay up. The sooner I could get him out of my hair, the better.
So I dialed the number on the business card.
“Sanchez.”
“It’s April. I have your money.”
“Ah, Vanilla Frost. You got every penny? I don’t deal with people who cut me short.”
“I got it. How do you want to do this?”
I heard a bristly sound on the other line as if he were rubbing his chin. The only hair I remembered on his face was a square patch below his bottom lip. “That was quick. How did you come across that kind of money so fast?”
“I won the lottery. Tell me how you want me to pay you. I can wire it to an account, or—”
“Cash,” he quickly replied.
Somehow I knew that’s what he’d say. “Okay. We can meet at the mall in the food court.”
Laughter cackled on the other end of the line. “You are one dumb vanilla. How about I come over to your place?”
“No,” I said firmly.
“Fine,” he said, his voice getting dark and serious. “Meet me tonight at eleven. We’ll do it close to where you work so it’s quicker. You know where the railroad tracks are?”
“Uh-huh.”
“There’s an abandoned building with graffiti just south of your store. You know the one?”
I could hardly miss it. I walked by it on the way home every day. “Yeah, but I’d rather not. Look, why don’t I just wire it to you?”
“Because this is the only way I do business,” he said in a curt voice. “You think I want someone around to snap a picture on their cell phone? Or an electronic record of the transaction? I spent enough time in prison and I’m not going back. So skirt your little ass up there no later than eleven. This isn’t negotiable, little girl. I call the shots, and you don’t want to know what the consequences are. Feel free to call the police. They won’t do a damn thing about it and all you’ll end up doing is pissing off Delgado and wasting my time. And don’t even think about bringing someone with you. All you have to do is pay the money and I’ll go away.”
I hung up on him and panicked. I needed to haul ass to the bank and make a personal withdrawal from my account if he wanted cash. My wine-stained tennis shoes were going into the trash anyhow, so I just kept them on and ran out the door.
***

“Now you boys behave yourselves.” Lynn brushed a speck of lint from her dark slacks. Reno chuckled to himself; he loved the way that woman kept them in line. “I don’t want to come back and find any of my new curtains torn down.”
Lynn had become the matriarch in the pack despite her human status. Lexi’s mom could be a little controlling of what went on in the house, but women were the lifeblood of any pack and they all knew it. She loved taking care of them, but over the past few months, Lynn had begun to take notice of how different Shifters lived from humans.
Jericho smirked from his leather stool at the bar and patted out the butt of his cigarette. They had converted an upstairs room into a lion’s den with alcohol, a television, video games, and a stereo. Jericho had hung up the dartboard from the old house, and rumor had it Denver was buying a pool table. God knows the boys were all for that. Shifters loved billiards because if you could get a woman to play, it was one of the most erotic wonders to behold.
Jericho admired one of the silver rings on his hand, no doubt feeling all eyes on him as he had a reputation for being the troublemaker when it came to parties. Reno sat to his immediate right and nudged his arm to pay attention. Lynn hovered in the doorway and anxiety bled across her face at what they might be scheming. Lynn was an amazing cook, an attentive mother, and one sassy woman with a fixation on upgrading their historical home. However, she had become a damper on game night whenever one of the men invited a woman or two to join them.
Not that Reno brought home women, but Jericho sure as hell wasn’t happy about it. Most packs minded their own business when it came to mattress bouncing, but if that front door so much as squeaked, Lynn was all over it and wanted to know the life story of every person who stepped inside.
That’s why Austin was sending her on an all-expenses paid vacation to Sea World with Maizy. Not only would Maizy get to see dolphins and whales, but it would get Lynn the hell out of the house so they could run the party that weekend, Shifter style. The Cole brothers liked to get rowdy; that was a fact. It could hardly be helped when Jericho’s band would show up with groupies. They usually invited neighboring packs, taking advantage of the opportunity to form and keep alliances. Lynn wasn’t comfortable around that many Shifters, so it was for her benefit just as much as it was theirs.
“Behave, boys,” she said sternly, lingering by the door. Maizy grabbed a fistful of her mom’s shirt and tugged impatiently, looking about as excited as any kid who was about to go see Flipper.
Lynn would make it there before sunset and looked relieved to be getting away for a spell. Human women just weren’t used to living with that many men, let alone Shifters. She’d have to get used to it if she wanted to remain with the pack. It was likely they would gain more members as time went by. Not just anyone—the selection process took time. Austin made the ultimate decision as the Packmaster, and the new blood had to mesh with their group. Someone who would die for his brothers, protect their women, and guard their territory. Loyalty meant everything. So the toughest pack didn’t have to do with size, but the strength of the family.
“What the hell happened to your hand?” Jericho took another sip of beer and Lynn went downstairs with Maizy to pack up the car.
Reno lifted his hand, staring at the discoloration on his knuckles. “Just one of those mysteries in life,” he replied.
“Bet it ain’t so mysterious to the face it ran into several times. One of these days I’m going to get you to smoke a little weed and then maybe you’ll loosen up,” Jericho said with a suppressed laugh. “Man, I’d love to see that shit. Bet you’re one of those sissies who holds on to the grass because the planet is spinning too fast.”
“You need to cut that shit out,” Reno suggested, as if his brother hadn’t heard it a million times before. “You’re too old for that mess and I don’t think we need to take another trip down memory lane, if you get my meaning.”
“Maybe you should mind your own business. I don’t do the hard shit anymore.”
Shifters acted the age they looked like more than the age they actually were. Jericho was old enough to know better, but his talents as a musician had kept him stagnant in a partying lifestyle. Jericho had gotten a taste of fame years ago, and it ended in disaster. In fact, it almost killed him. He kept his act local now, but little had changed in how he carried himself. He commanded attention when he walked into a room, and it wasn’t just his height. The women loved his long hair and aloofness. Whether it was onstage or off, that boy had been born to entertain. Breed had to stay out of the limelight; the risk of being discovered by humans was too great for those who lived extended lifetimes. So sacrifices had to be made, and maybe Jericho was a little bitter about that.
Reno sniffed and looked at their reflections in the mirror. “Maybe you should realize life is more than a party.”
“The day you quit having fun is the day you resign yourself to getting old,” Jericho retorted. He eased off the stool and grabbed his longneck. As he passed by, he leaned over Reno’s shoulder and lowered his voice. “Tomorrow, we’re getting you laid. I know just the girl, and she’s had her eye on your swagger for about three years now.”
Reno cut him a sharp glare and a smug grin stretched across Jericho’s face, brightening his milky-green eyes. Jericho raked his tangled dark hair away from his face and winked.
“I know I’m getting laid,” Denver announced from the black beanbag chair in the corner.
“Says who?” Jericho tilted his bottle and took a swig.
Denver pointed to his crotch with his index finger. “Says this guy.” He had a bag of Cheetos on his stomach and his fingers were tinted orange from the cheese. “It’s been too f*cking long, and I don’t give a shit if my wolf is the one who gets laid, but one of us is getting a little tail.”
“Well, I know I’m getting laid,” Austin announced as Lexi entered the room.
“Don’t be so sure,” she said with an air of confidence, walking indifferently toward the short fridge behind the bar.
Reno silently laughed. All the guys loved her to bits because she put that alpha in his place.
Austin eased up behind her. “That’s the one thing I’m sure of, Ladybug.”
She bent over and reached for a wine cooler, tilting her ass just a little bit. Reno had to turn away because it was instinctual for males to become aroused when a female turned her back. The men in that house would cut off their right arm before making a move on a mated female in the pack, but Austin didn’t take kindly to a room full of erections, so they averted their eyes out of respect.
Austin gripped her hips and growled, leaning over to whisper in her ear.
Denver shoved a handful of chips into his mouth and folded the bag. “Well, I’m sick of that shit,” he said, pointing at the adorable couple. “Ain’t fair. I got needs.”
“You also got dirty socks all over the bathroom,” Lexi pointed out, turning around and nudging Austin away. “Women don’t want to be a maid and pick up after you.”
“Our mother did.”
“Women you sleep with.”
Denver’s mouth turned down and his brows arched. “Maybe I’ll find a girl who will want me for who I am.”
Jericho lifted his bottle in a toast. “That’s so precious I want to put it on a greeting card. Women look at a man like Lynn looks at this house: a fixer-upper.”
“That’s not true,” Lexi cut in. “I didn’t have to change Austin; he changed himself.”
A fierce smile slid up Austin’s face and he reached in his back pocket and removed his fringed gloves. When he winked at her with his ice-blue eyes, Lexi scowled at him.
“That’s it! I’m going to get the scissors and cut those fringes off.” She stormed out of the room and Austin put the second glove on his hand, swaggering toward the hall.
“Be back in two hours, boys. My girl loves it when I pull out the leathers. It gets her all fired up in the sack.”
“You see?” Denver said, throwing his head back. “That’s killing me. It was fine until she came into the house.”
Jericho tossed a dart at the board, hitting dead center. “Bitch all you want, man. We know you ain’t got game.”
Denver’s legs flailed as he struggled to get out of the beanbag chair his ass was adhered to. The bag of Cheetos spilled on the floor and his face bloomed red. “Why don’t you just shut it?”
“Why don’t we make it interesting with a friendly wager?” Ben suggested.
Reno turned his back, ignoring the ruckus.
Wheeler slid in the seat beside him at the bar, shoving a deck of cards away. “You okay?” He eyed the new scar on Reno’s left arm as he reached in a plastic bag on the bar and pulled out a flat stick of spicy beef jerky. Wheeler was the only one in the house who ate that stuff and he could eat bags of it at a time.
“Just a scratch,” Reno said dismissively, taking a swig of beer.
Wheeler and Ben were identical twins. They looked alike in almost every way: amber eyes with angled brows, a strong nose, and carved features. They had brown hair, but Ben kept his styled neater than Wheeler, who wore his short on the sides and long on top, combed upward and every which way. They were six feet tall, which was a smidge taller than Denver but shorter than the rest of the brothers. Their build was average, but Wheeler had a tougher stance. He had a no-nonsense mean streak and had quickly gained a reputation in the family as the black sheep. Ben, on the other hand, was easygoing and always enjoyed a game of cards. In fact, he had entered a number of card tournaments and played the circuit. Everyone got along with him better for the simple reason he was less trouble and joked around more.
It was as if Wheeler was trying to sever his connection to Ben. He’d inked himself up, grown facial hair, and developed a serious attitude problem. He used to be a whiz at finance, working for some of the wealthiest immortals, but now showed no desire to go back to work. Austin had once confided to Reno he thought Wheeler might have been involved in a financial scandal, but they didn’t ask questions because everyone who decided to join with the Weston pack was each given a clean slate. They all had a past, but you can’t force someone to show you their ghosts. When a man wants you to see his house of pain, he’ll open the door and invite you in.
Everyone has a few dark years on them. At least with PI work, Reno didn’t have to travel as much, but he still armed himself. Shifters didn’t have official law enforcement, so PIs worked independently. Only proven crimes would go to the courts run by the higher authority, and that left the rest to good old-fashioned street justice. So Reno didn’t exactly have clean hands, but it’s not something he talked about. He’d seen a lot of shit go down in his life, and sometimes those memories haunted him in quiet moments. Like the fifteen-year-old runaway he’d found living under a bridge who’d revealed what her father had done to her. Reno could have driven her home and let her pack deal with it, but he’d understood the humiliation she would have to endure. No woman deserved to have a man’s eyes look upon her with pity. He’d taken her to a respectable pack up in Colorado and given her a new lease on life. The Packmaster had owed him a favor, so he’d assigned one of his best men as her watchdog. Reno had driven home and couldn’t sleep for weeks. Not until he’d tracked down her father and delivered a beating that man would never forget.
“I’ve got someone I need you to check out,” Wheeler said in a low voice.
Meanwhile, Denver and Jericho were in a verbal argument about who had the bigger dick, and who was the bigger dick.
“What’s it for?”
Wheeler leaned on his forearms, staring at their reflection in the mirror behind the liquor glasses. “Austin wants me to help Lexi get the business on its feet, and dammit, I can’t get out of it until I review some of the documents that dead human left behind. I found a couple of wire transfers I can’t account for. Large sums of money.”
“So? Maybe her boss bought a few cars.”
Didn’t seem like breaking news for a business owner to spend money.
“No,” Wheeler said. “I tried searching the name on the Internet and nothing came up. It’s an unusual name.”
Reno cocked his head, considering Wheeler’s insinuation. All Breeds had alternate identities. It was essential to use their fake IDs in human establishments so the Breed could keep tabs on them. Reno had once fallen off the radar after being arrested by human law enforcement, and his partner was able to run a trace and bail him out. Unusual names were easier to spot as one of their own. The Breed functioned as a completely separate society from humans. They had their own banks to avoid dealing with the IRS, their own jails, and their own clubs.
“Give me his name and I’ll see what I can find out,” Reno said in a quiet voice. “Are you going to transfer the Sweet Treats money over to a Breed account?”
“It gets sticky,” Wheeler said, chewing off a piece of jerky. “They’ve already filed taxes and Lexi is making quarterly payments. The only way around it would be to sell the business and start over. I talked with Austin and she can run it until she gets old enough that it might attract attention, then we can move it. It would make more sense to open it up on the Breed side of town where we have more control on leasing and don’t file taxes. Humans just love those taxes,” he said with a shake of his head.
“I don’t normally track down humans, but as a favor for a brother…”
Wheeler jotted down a name on a paper napkin and slid it over. “’Preciate ya,” he said, slapping Reno on the back and strolling across the room.
Reno glanced down at the name.
Maddox Cane.