Mine to Claim (Shadow Shifters: Damaged Hearts) (6 page)

Pulling the belt tight at her waist, Scarlett walked toward where I sat.

“So what exactly happened between those two? As I heard it, they didn’t know each other until last night.” She looked suspicious and curious and like she was wondering how much I really did know.

“I’m not sure. It all happened so fast,” I told her. “But I was ready for Rafe to get lost, so I wasn’t really arguing with Aidan’s interruption.” I hadn’t been arguing because I’d been too shocked that he had not only walked into the party, but that he’d come straight over to me and asked me to go with him. It had actually been more like a command, but nobody needed to know the specifics. Besides, I was much more interested in what Scarlett had told the police about Aidan.

“You do know that Rafe and Chris are both on the football team?” she asked me.

I frowned. “No. I did not know that.”

Scarlett made a clucking sound and turned away. “You’ve got to get out more or at least pay attention when I talk. Chris, Brett—the guy with the broken finger—and now Rafe—the guy with the broken nose—all play on the football team. And they’ve all been assaulted by Aidan Sanchez in the last couple of weeks.” She was just picking up her cosmetics bag when she stopped again and turned to me.

“And they were all talking to you just before a fight broke out. Hmm, what are the odds of that?” she asked, eyeing me like she was counting down the seconds until I spat out an answer.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have one.

“They all sound like idiots and getting the police involved is probably unnecessary. Aidan Sanchez is not a thief.” I said that with way too much confidence, I knew it even if I wasn’t staring at Scarlett who was probably looking at me like I had lost my mind.

“You do not know Aidan Sanchez, none of us do. I told you he’s a recluse,” she all but screamed.

Her tone was exactly like Rebecca’s when I’d told her I was thinking of pressing assault charges against Rory. She’d been adamant that I was wrong about her cousin. The rest of my so-called friends had taken her side, calling me the slut and reminding me how lucky I was that Rory was willing to continue our relationship regardless of the childish way I’d treated him. I was immediately irritated.

My hands moved incessantly. I clasped them together to keep it from being so noticeable. “He’s a recluse because he’s not on the football team and he doesn’t hang with the rest of the crew?” For too long I’d thought being with Rory and Rebecca and in their selective group was the best place to be. Now, I knew better.

“He just appeared out of nowhere and he’s old enough to be finished with college and he doesn’t want to fit in,” Scarlett continued, her chin going up as if I’d somehow offended her.

“College doesn’t have an age limit, Scarlett. And it doesn’t come with some rule book that says one has to be accepted by everyone else to be considered a good person or a good student.” I stood from my chair, tired of the way she was looking down at me and tired of the conversation. “I’m going out for coffee.”

I’d already picked up my jacket and was zipping it as Scarlett called to me from beside her bed.

“You’re a naïve little freshman, Gracie. You came from that uppity little town in Washington where you were the star of the show, your parents were royalty that ruled the land, so you’re hardly one to get up on your high horse about those that are accepted or not accepted. Take my advice and stay the hell away from Sanchez. He’s bad news and your hoity-toity parents definitely would not approve.”

*   *   *

Scarlett’s words replayed in my head as I walked out of the coffee shop, steam drifting up toward my face as I held the cup of coffee in both gloved hands.

All the things about my past had given Scarlett the ammunition to strike as coldly and pointedly as she had. But I hadn’t told her everything and the parts I’d kept to myself were the ones that made me feel for Aidan Sanchez, they were what made me admire his wanting to stay a recluse. Hadn’t I come here to be by myself, or at least to start over by myself? Yet now, here I was, in the middle of another group of people that seemed to think they were better than someone else for whatever reason. I didn’t like how that thought made me feel, not at all.

I also didn’t like the jolt I received when someone grabbed my arm, pulling me off the path I’d been walking away from the coffee shop. Hot liquid sloshed through the slit in the top of the cup and I gasped before a hand went over my mouth. My heart pounded as every self-defense technique I’d been taught fled from my mind. Stumbling through the grassy area around the side of the coffee shop I thought frantically back to the class I’d taken in Seattle, reaching for anything, any thought to how I could get myself out of this situation before it was too late.

I saw the motorcycle before I was released and felt only a fraction of relief wavering through me.

“I’m sorry,” his deep voice said from behind as he finally let me go. “I didn’t want anybody to see me or to see us together. But I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

My hands shook, more of my coffee spilling over my black gloves. It was a good thing they were leather and not one of the other pairs I had that were cloth because this hot liquid would have scorched the hell out of me by now. I took a few seconds to steady my breathing before speaking.

“The police are looking for you,” I said because I really wasn’t ready to deal with his apology or the memory of why he was most likely offering it.

I’d spent the bulk of my day replaying our kiss, those touches, his tongue, his hands, and it had been futile. I let Aidan Sanchez kiss and fondle me and I hadn’t stopped him. It was like an instant replay of the worst day of my entire life and yet, it hadn’t really felt like that, not on the inside.

“I didn’t rob that gas station and I don’t own a gun. I don’t need one,” he said tightly.

I turned then, looking at him and almost dropping the cup of coffee altogether. He was so damned fine, so right out of a movie scene gorgeous with his squared jaw and dark brooding looks, the leather jacket and dark jeans, the black steel-toed boots and the bike, like a modern-day Danny or Tony. My two favorite old-school romances about the good girl longing for the bad guy immediately sprang to mind. As both were musicals I half expected one of us to break into song at this very moment.

Instead I swallowed and took a deep breath. “I didn’t think you’d robbed anybody. I told Scarlett you wouldn’t do something like that.”

“You did?” He sounded surprised.

“Yeah, well, I just don’t see a gun-toting robber as the same guy that rescued me from overzealous guys on two occasions.”

He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his lips thinning into a line as he looked away. Actually, he looked uncomfortable and I wondered if it was because of what I’d said.

“Why do you keep saving me?” I don’t know why I asked that question, wasn’t really sure I wanted the answer. But I didn’t want to walk away from him, not just yet. “I mean you just keep showing up where I am, when there’s some guy bothering me, like you’re my personal bodyguard.”

When he didn’t speak I got worried.

“You’re not, are you? My parents didn’t hire you to watch me, did they?”

“Wow,” he said with a wry chuckle. “What kind of parents do you have?”

I was about to answer or at least give him some sort of retraction statement when I noticed something. He’d smiled, or one half of his mouth had lifted as if he wanted to smile and his voice hadn’t sounded so ominous.

“I guess the same type anybody has,” I replied lightly, “if you have insanely strict and overprotective ones that don’t know when to let go.”

He nodded then, that partial smile still in place. “Yeah, I guess I sort of know that tune.”

“Gotta love ‘em, huh?” I lifted my cup to my lips, drinking from what was left and acting as if I wasn’t standing on the side of a building as darkness was finally beginning to set with a guy that was wanted by the police.

The half-smile faltered. “Guess so.”

A group of people came out of the coffee shop, laughing and joking with each other, their voices causing Aidan’s head to snap in their direction.

“I should go,” he said without looking back at me.

He was right, he probably should go. But I didn’t want him to so I didn’t respond. He didn’t seem to care because he moved around me heading for his bike. I turned, opening my mouth, prepared to say … what? “Stay with me?” “Take me with you?” I didn’t have the guts.

Aidan lifted his leg and sat on his bike. With one booted foot he pushed the stand back and straightened the bike. Digging in his pocket he pulled out a key. I was watching his every movement as if transfixed. His fingers were long, his hands wide, he looked strong. He started the bike and my heart thumped wildly, beneath the leather gloves my palms began to sweat, the hand that held the coffee cup shaking.

“Come with me,” he said softly.

So softly I barely heard him over the rumble of the bike.

“What?” I sounded like a dweeb or a scared, nervous female, or whatever, it didn’t sound good.

He didn’t seem to mind because he repeated his statement, “Come with me.”

The first night he’d said that to me I’d hesitated because Rory had said the same thing when he’d invited me to his house that night. The second time Aidan had said it, last night at the party, I’d been so shocked at seeing him I hadn’t related it to Seattle or what happened there at all. Tonight, he was saying it again and I had a choice. I could get on this bike and go with him—the guy that Scarlett had so politely pointed out was a recluse and I didn’t know a damned thing about. Or I could go back to my dorm room and sit in front of a computer pretending to work when I was really thinking about the recluse that I didn’t know a damned thing about, except that his kiss had excited me more than anything I’d ever experienced in my entire life.

I tossed the coffee cup aside, not caring that I was littering. Okay, that was probably going to bug the hell out of me tomorrow, but not right now, not at this instant. The only thing on my mind right now was climbing onto the back of Aidan’s bike, fitting my front against his back, and loving the feeling of warmth that immediately seeped through him into me.

CHAPTER 6

Aidan

This was a big-ass mistake, in a long line of big-ass mistakes I’d been making lately. Brayden’s early morning call had only confirmed that fact.

“Where are you and why haven’t you answered my calls?” my younger brother had asked the moment I said hello.

“Hello. I’m doing well, and you?” had been my clipped and sarcastic reply.

“You were supposed to be here a week ago. The final tests are in three months. The three of us getting together and going over everything we’ve learned increases all of our odds,” Bradyden had continued.

I’d closed my eyes to his words, wishing like hell I didn’t love and respect him too much to disconnect the call. “I don’t need my odds increased.”

“We all do, Aidan. The old laws don’t really apply now, not to our generation. We have to act on any edge we can to get where we need to be.”

“I’m where I need to be, Brayden. I plan to get my degree and—”

“And what, Aidan? What are you going to do with a degree in computer technology when you were born and bred to do so much more?”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tried to ignore words I’d heard too many times to count and their implication. “Look, you walk in the footsteps that were preordained for you. That’s your gig, Bray, it’s not mine.”

“You’re the oldest.”

“Yeah, well that wasn’t my choice either,” I snapped.

“It’s who we are.”

“I am who I want to be, not what a birthright or some ancient law says I have to be. It’s not what I want out of life. I thought you understood that.” That statement had been completely wrong. I knew when I’d walked away from Brayden and Caleb that night in Rio that neither of them had really understood. Brayden had looked at me with disappointment while Caleb, the adopted but still loved and cherished youngest brother, had given his tainted brand of approval. Neither of them agreed with me leaving the fold, but they supported me, because that’s what we did, always.

“I know you don’t want to hurt Mom and Dad like this.”

Brayden’s words had my eyes popping open. It was a low blow as I’m sure he knew and it had the desired effect, almost.

“My intent is not to hurt them but my life is my own, that’s a fact I cannot and will not change.”

Brayden sighed. “They need us.”

By “they” I knew Brayden wasn’t only talking about our parents, he was talking about our tribe. And that was the one thing I didn’t want to think about or talk about or worry about, or anything. It was the thing I’d run so long and so far away from and I wasn’t willing to turn back, not even for my family. I’d used some fake-ass excuse to get off the phone with Brayden, promising to call him later, but not that I’d show up because I had absolutely no intention of taking the final steps to becoming a full-fledged
Topètenia
soldier.

I turned my bike into the motel parking lot where I’d checked in earlier, after I saw the cops hanging around my apartment building. At that point I didn’t know why exactly but instinct told me to get out of there. A few hours later I had a call from the only other person who knew who and where I was. He’d said two simple words, “No exposure.”

So I was camping out here just for tonight and then I’d be gone, for good.

Except I couldn’t leave without seeing Grace one more time.

“I thought you lived in the building with Jordy,” she said after I’d parked the bike and helped her off.

I liked touching her, a lot. Too much. Everything I wanted to do to her was too much. I knew that and yet here we were.

“Cops are all over that building,” I told her while I locked my bike up.

“Right, Scarlett said they questioned her when she was there.”

“Scarlett, your roommate, the one who’s sleeping with Jordy this week,” I added then walked toward the room I’d rented.

She followed me asking, “How do you know Scarlett’s my roommate? And what does ‘this week’ mean?”