His Wolf (Wolf of My Heart) (11 page)

I found him at the kitchen table with his open laptop in front of him. He was clearly caught up in what he was doing, so I got dressed and then came back out to make us some kind of breakfast.
"Morning.
Are you hungry?"

He didn't answer.

Curious, I joined him, looking over his shoulder as he manipulated a couple of photographs I was pretty sure he'd taken the day before. I honestly couldn't drag my gaze away for several minutes while he somehow erased the background of one shot, copied what was left, and then put that into another shot. "Wow."

Erik jumped at the sound of my voice. "Didn't hear you come in."

"I've just been standing here ten minutes."

"You should've said something."

"I did, actually."

He flushed. "Sorry. I tend to get caught up when I'm working."

I sat in the empty chair next to him. "I'll say. What program is this?"

He told me the name of the software.

"I've got to get it. I love playing on my laptop, and that is way cool."

"I have the disk and permission to load it on three computers. Want me to put it on yours?"

I smiled. "I'd really appreciate that. Will it take long?"

"Depends on your hard drive."
He glanced over his shoulder at my backpack, which was still on his living room floor, though out of the walkway. "Is it in there?"

"Yeah."
I jumped up and got it for him. "Thanks for doing this."

"No problem." He took the power cord from me and began hooking everything up.

"While you're working on that I could cook some breakfast. What would you like? Bacon and eggs, cinnamon rolls, pancakes?"

Erik began to power up the laptop. "I've been thinking about those rolls ever since you bought them yesterday."

"Then rolls it is." I stepped over to the fridge and located the refrigerated dough. Then I turned on the oven and got busy getting a pie pan so I could crack open the package and arrange the circles of raw pastry in it. In no time, the rolls were baking in the oven. I made a quick trip to the bathroom, where I went through my morning routine.
That done, I joined Erik, who was totally focused on my laptop.

I really didn't pay much attention to the screen. Downloading stuff could take ages. Instead, I went ahead and fried up four slices of bacon. I kind of liked having a little salt with my sweets.

By the time I handed Erik a couple of the freshly iced rolls and crisp bacon on a saucer, he'd finished his task. I gave him a glass of milk, too. "There you go."

He looked up at me and
smiled,
an expression that didn't really reach his eyes. What's up? I wondered, but I didn't ask. We both cleared our plates and then got seconds, consuming a whole pan--as in eight--of the sticky rolls. Yeah, so much for being weight conscious. After we washed the sugar and cinnamon off our fingers, Erik tried to give me a lesson in photo manipulation. He seemed a little distracted and more than once acted impatient when I didn't get something right away.

"You know what?" I finally said, guessing the reason. "I think I should play with this by myself. Hands-on is the best way to learn anything, and you've got enough work to do."

"You're probably right." He didn't seem as relieved as I'd expected, but did get back to his computer.

We both worked until nearly 1:00. That's when my tired shoulders got the best of me. I stretched, got up, and impulsively stepped behind Erik. Pressing close, I wrapped my arms around him.
"Time for a break.
Wanna
make out again?"

He hesitated and then wiggled out of my hug, a look of chagrin on his face. "Can I give you a rain check? I'd really like to finish this."

A rain check?
On a make-out session?
I'd never felt like such a loser--a pathetic loser who had to beg for kisses. Without saying anything, I escaped to the bedroom, where I sat on the bed blinking back tears. Why I was so hurt, I didn't know. It wasn't as if we were married, dating, or even friends with benefits. Though I half expected Erik to follow and try to explain the rejection, he didn't, which just made things that much worse.

With a slight headache from staring at my computer screen so long, I
lay
down on my bed, face to the wall. My blue mood quickly overwhelmed me. I wished I hadn't had that wreck. I wished that Erik hadn't saved me. I even wished I hadn't eaten so many cinnamon rolls. But wishes were a dime a dozen, weren't they? And they seldom came true, at least in my experience.

Should I pack up and bum a ride into Branson? What was I really doing in Erik's cabin? I had a life before I met him. I needed to get back to it. Hiding in the woods wasn't solving any of my problems, which currently ranged from impending poverty to indecision regarding the rest of my days. Yeah, living here was a little cheaper, but it was also damned distracting not to mention inconvenient. If I did luck out and find a job, how on earth would I manage the commute? I definitely wasn't about to ask Erik to use his gasoline.

So my staying with him was a little crazy. I was not only hiding out, I was delaying taking charge of things by clinging to the first guy who'd been kind to me in ages. That made him an unwilling knight to a damsel-in-distress who really needed to get off her lazy butt and take care of herself.

At some point during all my thinking, I dozed off. When I woke with a start, long shadows stretched across the room. I glanced at my watch. 6:00. Wow. I hadn't had an afternoon nap that long since my preschool days and maybe not even then. I figured it must be the trauma of the wreck, finally catching up with me.

Where was Erik? I naturally wondered, getting out of bed. I found him still seated at the kitchen table with a laptop in front of him. But it wasn't his, it was mine. I stared for several minutes with my mouth open in shock and my face getting hotter by the second, watching as he flipped through document after document. Spreadsheets, letters, emails,
even photos weren't safe from him. I'm sure my face turned six shades of red. He did not have my permission to nose around.

With a gasp of outrage, I flew into the kitchen and snatched my computer away from him, almost dragging a canned Coke off the table with the power cord. "What the hell are you doing?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and met my gaze without flinching.
"Snooping."

"You got that right. Did you read my journal?" I'd encrypted it, but not very seriously. Anyone could've experimented a little and gotten in.

"I did."

Oh God.

"And I now know no goddess had anything to do with your shifting. You were bitten by a werewolf, just like in the movies."

Now my face was probably purple.

"A son of a bitch crime lord trying to rape you."

I glanced away, trying to block the Technicolor memory that had just popped into my head.

"That you kept detailed records for on that laptop, which I'm thinking we can add to the list of things
you
stole when you left."

I clutched it a little tighter to my chest.

"A criminal that was part of an organized international syndicate called The Arm. And you're actually wondering what they want from you?"

The ramifications of his words slowly dawned. I staggered back, trying not to give in to knees suddenly weak, and surely would've fallen if Erik hadn't jumped up and grabbed me with both hands. The laptop slid from my grasp, landing on the arm of the couch. The toe of Erik's boot kept it from slamming against the wooden floor.

"Could I be more of an idiot?" I asked with a moan.  "I'll never be free of them."

"Yes, you will. I'll figure something out." Erik scooped up the laptop and marched me the few steps to the front of the couch, applying downward pressure on my shoulders until I sat. Then he got rid of the computer and dropped to his knees in front of me.
"In order for me to do that, I have to know everything, Bronte.
Starting with how you got mixed up with these assholes."

Since that was something I deliberately hadn't put in my haphazard journal, we would have to talk. I reluctantly patted the cushion next to me. Erik sat.

I drew in a shaky breath. "Eighteen months, two weeks, and six days ago, I was a sophomore, living in Springfield in a dorm at
MSU
because my dad taught there and got a break on tuition and housing. He wanted me to get the 'dorm experience,' as he called it, even though we just lived twenty miles south of Springfield, and I could've driven in every day. A couple of weeks into summer classes, I took all my dirty clothes to an off-campus Laundromat because there wasn't a free washer in our building and I'd run out of clothes. It was late, but not that late. Around 11:00, I guess. Anyway, this guy came in--big and strong with black hair."

"Steven Yarbrough?"

I nodded. "He was in his early-to-mid forties and seemed nice enough. I remember I wasn't a bit nervous even though we were alone. He got his clothes started in one of the washers and sat down on the bench I was on, though not close enough to scare me. We talked a little. I got up to get a Coke from the vending room, which was tiny, and when I turned to leave it, I realized he'd followed me in there. I was so not expecting his attack or the needle he stuck in my neck. The next thing I knew, I was in Houston."

Erik's flushed cheeks began to pale, but he didn't comment.

"He said I wouldn't get hurt if I just did what I was told. He also said I could have the run of the house he'd taken me to until I did something stupid. I pretended to be so scared that I agreed, but first chance I got, I tried to make a run for it. Who wouldn't, you know? One of his guards caught me before I got to the street. That was a shocker. I'd thought we two were alone there."

"What'd he do to you?"

"Just slapped me around a little."

With a curse, Erik half got up from the couch, his intentions a mystery to me. It wasn't as if he could change what had happened. I touched his arm. He looked down at me, blinked, and slowly sat again.

"Yarbrough really wasn't into physical violence; he left that up to his wolves. But he did make it clear that he wouldn't hesitate to hurt me
and
my father if I tried it again. He called Dad by name, which really shook me up. I expect that's how he got everyone to do
what he wanted. While we might've been desperate enough to put our own lives in jeopardy, none of us wanted our families hurt."

"This is making me sick to my stomach."

"Me, too, but it's all behind me now…at least that part is. I don't know what will happen if some other branch of The Arm is stalking me." I shuddered.

"I'll protect you."

"I appreciate your saying that, but wiser and stronger men have fallen to this group. They're brutal and ruthless. Why, the
Corteggio
guys--"

"The what?"

"
Corteggio
."
I shared the little I knew about the governing body of the supernatural world and the men in black who'd shown up and freed the pack. "They told me that there were some men called Palatines who had tracked down and executed
Weres
with their blessing for centuries. That's what we call ourselves when we're in human form, by the way."

I couldn't help but wince in response to Erik's disgusted expression.

"I know.
Too Hollywood to believe.
But I swear it's all true.
Weres
were thought to be evil though they really aren't. So for centuries one family of Palatines secretly enslaved them, resulting in gangs who acted out of fear for their own or someone else's life. I have no idea what types of crimes they committed in the past, but in modern times, they mugged and beat up people, robbed homes and businesses, stole cars for parts…anything Titus Leopold wanted them to do."