Red (19 page)

I thought of how, when Dad had to change our
name, he’d chosen Rose, after her. Rosalind. “Yeah, I think they
were it,” I said softly. “He’s never so much as looked at anybody
else. And she went through absolute hell for him. I don’t know
what-all my grandfather threatened to make her reveal who my father
was, but she never breathed a word. She would have done anything to
keep him safe. I never understood that before.”

For the first time, I began to consider the
possibility that she’d left to protect us. That maybe she was
beginning to give in to the madness and feared she’d hurt Dad or
me. Maybe her suicide hadn’t been an act of cowardice as I’d always
thought, but of strength, as I believed my own might have to
be.

Sawyer paused in the midst of drawing his
thumb down the length of mine. “You get it now?”

“
Yeah. Now I get it
exactly.”
Because I’d do anything to keep you safe. From a
hunter. From me.

I knew then that my decision was made. No
matter how much I wanted to stay, I wasn’t willing to risk Sawyer
getting hurt. So I would take these next few minutes for the gift
that they were, even though my heart was bleeding with every brush
of his fingers. Then I’d be gone.

Sawyer sat up, tugging to bring me with him,
so we were swiveled toward each other, knees touching. Not until he
reached out to brush his thumb over my cheek did I realize I was
crying. Damn it.

I started to reach up, to scrub the tears
away, but he captured my hands. “Don’t”

I didn’t know if he meant don’t cry or don’t
try to pretend I wasn’t crying, and I didn’t get a chance to figure
it out because my brain totally short circuited as he leaned in and
brushed his lips over one wet cheek. Shock kept me immobile as he
shifted to kiss the other cheek. I inhaled one sharp breath, which
was good because I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing after
that.

Sawyer’s lips, those marvelous, beautiful
lips, curved into a smile as he hovered a few inches away. He
stayed there, his gaze dropping to my mouth then lifting back to my
eyes and waiting, as if asking permission. Or maybe he was waiting
for me to close the distance between us. I wanted his mouth on
mine. I had almost from the first time I saw him.

I shifted a hesitant inch forward.

It was enough. He closed the distance
between us, touching his mouth to mine.

How could a body that hard, that strong, be
so soft and careful? The contrast left me weak and dizzy. I swayed
toward him, unintentionally deepening that bare brush of lips. One
of his hands slid into my hair, cradling my head, tipping it a bit
for better access. My free hand slid up the planes of his
chest—dear God, what did that feel like without a shirt?—and came
to rest over his heart. Though it thundered beneath my palm, he
kept his mouth easy, still testing.

I drew in a breath, smelled his arousal. The
scent curled around me, through me, waking something other than
terrified nerves in response. My hand fisted in his t-shirt and
yanked him closer. One of us, maybe both of us, growled. Suddenly
his arms were around me, under my knees, dragging me into his
lap.

Oh yes, yes, this was good. My hands found
their way into his hair, and it was soft, as his lips had been
soft. They weren’t soft now. They were hungry. He was hungry. For
me. He actually wanted . . . me.

My body seemed to pulse with heat, desperate
for more. More heat. More skin. More everything. If this was all I
was ever going to have, I wanted as much as I could get.

“
Get your hands off my
daughter.”

I froze, my hand splayed against Sawyer’s
back beneath his t-shirt. Something that sounded suspiciously like
a gun clicked behind me.

“
I’m not gonna say it
again.”

We broke apart, panting. Sawyer stood, set
me on wobbly feet, and shoved me behind him. I was still busy
trying to force my brain cells to fully engage and my leg muscles
to properly hold me up when he said evenly, “Mr. Rose, put the gun
down.”

“
Jesus!” I rushed around
Sawyer. “Dad, stop it!

Dad’s attention shifted briefly from Sawyer
to me, and his face went bone white. “Elodie. Get in the
truck.”

“
What? What is it?” It
wasn’t pure anger in his expression. Now there was straight up
fear.

“
Get in the truck!” he
shouted.

“
Not until you put the gun
down.”

Sawyer stepped in front of me again. “You
don’t have to go with him. He’s obviously not safe to—”

“
Not safe?
Not safe?
You touch my daughter and you think
I’m not safe?
” The skin
across his cheeks seemed pinched, too tight over bone.

I’d never seen him like this, and it scared
me. “Dad, put down the gun. I’m not going anywhere until you put it
down.” I tried to keep my voice even, soothing.

“
Get in the goddamned
truck!”

The gun never pointed at me. It was fixed
steadily on Sawyer. I stepped in front of him and the gun wavered.
“Put the gun down, and I’ll go with you.”

“
Elodie—” started
Sawyer.

“
Don’t,” I said, not
looking at him. “Dad. The gun.”

Dad’s horrified gaze fixed on me. That same
My daughter is a monster
expression I’d caught right after
he’d read the letter and the journal, but so much more than I’d
ever seen. As if I was turning before his very eyes.

“
I won’t let you hurt him
any more than Mom let my grandfather hurt you.”

Dad’s face spasmed, but he lowered the gun.
“Get in the truck,” he croaked.

I didn’t dare turn back to Sawyer for any
kind of proper goodbye. Dad was way too unstable right now.

“
I have to go,” I said
quietly.

Saywer’s hand shot out to grab mine as I
stepped away. “Elodie.”

“
I have to go,” I repeated,
squeezing his hand and not looking at him. I pulled away and walked
to the truck.

Once I circled the hood to the passenger
side, Dad broke the standoff. In contrast to my quiet, careful
closing of door, he slammed the driver’s side, shoving the pistol
roughly into the holster on his belt. I hoped he’d put on the
safety. Then he cranked the truck and jammed it into reverse,
making a rough three point turn.

I chanced one last look at Sawyer. He looked
predatory and furious as we drove away. Then Dad got the truck
turned around and slammed his foot on the gas.

“
How could you?” he
demanded.

“
How could I what? Be
human?” I demanded.

Furious, he slammed the passenger side visor
down. “Look at that and tell me you’re still human!”

What the fuck was he talking about? I tilted
the mirror to get a look at my face. My lips were red and swollen
from Sawyer’s, my cheeks still flushed. Everything looked totally
normal for somebody who’d been making out on a picnic table for who
knew how long. Until I got to my eyes. I gasped. My irises were a
pure, glowing gold.

“
You’re shifting,” he said.
“Just like she did.”

Chapter 9

Sawyer

“
Elodie!”
Panicked
fury ricocheted through my chest as the truck sped away, tires
slipping on gravel, carrying my mate to danger.

I sprinted after it. I had no plan, no clue
what to do, just a desperate need to get to her. My legs burned, as
I pushed faster, beyond human limits, the wolf rising within me.
Almost there . . . My hand stretched out, the tailgate almost
within my grasp, when Elodie’s father looked up. His eyes met mine
in the rearview mirror and narrowed. The engine roared and the
truck sped up, taking the bed of the truck—and Elodie—out of my
reach.

“
No!” I roared.

Where was he taking her? Home? I could cut
through the woods and possibly beat them there. Be on the offensive
when they arrived. But what if he was taking her somewhere else? I
couldn’t risk losing them. Losing her.

I veered into the woods that edged the road,
ripping off my shirt. I was fast like this, but not fast enough.
The wolf came roaring forth, my limbs twisting and popping, muscles
screaming with too fast a change. I stumbled as I landed, tripping
over shoes and shorts before gaining my paws again and racing after
them.

It was the same path I’d run last night,
following the curve of the road where it cut through the mountain.
I hadn’t been panicked then. Not even when I’d found her car,
abandoned, the flashers lighting up the night with an intermittent
orange glow. I’d been concerned. Frustrated with her carelessness
of not having a backup plan for a breakdown, and determined to see
her home as a faithful shadow. Then I’d seen the truck stop. A dark
figure got out, peered in the windows of her car, then got back in
his own vehicle. And sped off too fast for a mountain road.

I felt more terror now.

Elodie’s dad wasn’t driving dangerously
fast. I could see the truck below me through the trees, and I was
grateful for all the switchbacks through this section because my
back leg was still aching from being clipped. Last night had been a
sprint to beat the driver, to get to Elodie before he could. This
was a distance race. Even though I wanted to run all out, I just
had to keep up, to find out where her dad was taking her so I still
had something left when we got there.

I cursed myself for not paying more
attention last night. I should have noted what the driver looked
like, what the truck looked like. Could it have been Elodie’s
father, already coming unglued? I didn’t know. My focus had been
only her, on getting to her, on saving her, on making sure I hadn’t
hurt her when I knocked her into that tree. Then I’d stayed with
her, made sure she got home safely.

I’d thought her home was safe.

Mr. Rose’s driving seemed less erratic the
closer we got to town, as if he recognized that he didn’t need to
get pulled over. Where was a deputy when you needed one? I relaxed
an iota when he took the turn by Hansen’s. He was going home. Thank
God. I peeled off then, putting more distance between us so I could
keep to the trees for cover. If I was fast enough, maybe I could
get inside before they did.

And then what, dumbass? You think her dad
isn’t going to shoot a wolf in his house on sight?
Okay, so
maybe I needed to rethink that approach. There was no way I could
get near her as long as he had that gun.

As the truck bumped into the driveway, I
crept along the side of the free-standing garage, keeping to the
shadows. Mr. Rose still had the gun on him as he circled around the
truck, but it was holstered now. His movements were still stiff and
jerky, but he seemed less . . . psychotic now. Elodie walked ahead
of him, shoulders hunched. In that moment I despised him for making
her look defeated.

Neither of them said a word as they went
inside.

I made my way around back to the picture
window in living room. I could go through it if I had to. They
squared off as they had during that fight after the search, across
the coffee table. But this time Elodie looked exhausted and
miserable.

“
How did you find
me?”

“
The deputy who dropped you
off. I went back by the station when you weren’t at home. He told
me where he’d let you out. Exactly what have you been doing this
summer? Not working as a guide as you told me.”

“
I’ve been working as an
intern for a biologist in the park.”

That seemed to trip him up. “Why?”

“
Because I was interested.
And because it would look good on college applications.”

“
You know you’re
not—”

“
No, Dad, I don’t
know
anything of the sort. You’re the one who refuses to
consider that I might have a future, that I might have something of
value to offer the world. You want to keep me in a
cage.”

“
Obviously I should! Look
what you did when you went out on your own.”

“
I want a
life!”
she
shouted. “For all my hard work in school to actually
mean
something. To lead to a career and a future where I actually live
beyond sixteen.”

Wait, what?
She’d said it so
matter-of-factly, as if she’d lived her entire life expecting it to
be over already. Why? How? Disease? Suicide like her mother?
Something else? I thought of her paranoia, her sense that someone
was watching her, and wondered if that was somehow connected.

“
I thought when I made it
through this year, that I had a shot. That you’d finally get past
this insanity and let me be
normal.
So that I can finally
have friends and people who care about me beyond an obligation
because I’m some kind of burden to them.”

“
Is that what you think you
are to me?” Her father had to choke the words out.

“
Aren’t I? You’ve hardly
been able to look at me since we got Mom’s letter explaining
things. I am this
thing,
this
problem
you have to
contend with because I share half your DNA.”

“
Everything I’ve done, I’ve
done to protect you,” he whispered.

“
Yes. Protecting me. You
threw yourself into this . . . ” She waved her arms, as if she
could pluck the right word out of the air. “—lunacy when I couldn’t
even believe it myself. Why is that? Why should an otherwise
totally rational man actually believe it when the mother of his
child writes that she was a werewolf and charges you with stopping
the same thing from happening to me? Why didn’t you think she was
crazy?”