Unraveling Midnight (7 page)

“I haven’t yet. He asked me not to call, but I got the man’s license plate number. I’m sure the police could find him and take care of the situation.”

“Why don’t you give me the numbers?” he asked. “I’ve got a friend who works for the Philly PD. I can take care of this on the legal side so you and Scott don’t have to.”

It was an easy out, but if Scott’s family wanted to handle everything, she was grateful. She recited the numbers and letters and gave a decent description of the truck.

“You have a good memory. This should be enough to catch the bastard. I’ll get on this right now.”

“Wait, isn’t someone going to come and help Scott and the kids?”

Quiet filled the line until he said, “You can’t stay to help?”

“Well.” She could, but Scott had admitted to having trust issues and she didn’t want to press him, especially when he was hurt. “I thought he might be more comfortable with having family in his home. I’m more of a new friend than a close friend.”

Silence stretched again and Lucy didn’t know what it meant. She certainly wouldn’t shirk responsibility, but she really did wish the man on the phone would simply step in and handle things.

“Good. Then stay and help. I’ll try to send someone down in the next few weeks to check things out. Don’t worry about Scott. He’ll be fine soon.”

He sounded so confident that she’d do what he said, and darn it, he was right. She wasn’t going to leave the kids and Scott while he was laid up, but for a stranger to assume it was a bit infuriating.

“Next few weeks? Do you really think that’s wise? You don’t even know me. I could be an ax murderer or a thief. Do you really think you should leave this to me?”

The man on the other end chuckled. “Scott let you near his kids—to me, his judgement is better than all the background checks in the world. He’s a good, ah, man. If he saw something in you he liked and trusted after all the hell he’s gone through lately, then his judgment is what’s important. That said, if he stops being responsive or starts bleeding again, call me immediately.”

“And who is this exactly?” she asked, flattered beyond belief at his words.

“I’m sorry. I’m Chris Meyters, a…cousin of Scott’s, I suppose you could say.”

“Okay, Cousin Chris, I’ll hold down the fort and hope I don’t need to call again,” she said.

“Thank you, Lucy. Don’t let Scott or the kids give you any crap either, not that I think they would. They’re a really nice family. Take care and don’t hesitate to call again.”

She hung up feeling a lot better than when she’d called. Her heart simply felt lighter because she knew Scott had someone else. She didn’t mind helping. However, when it was only her, she got nervous. She almost hadn’t taken her niece and nephew because of her fear of failing, but that had gone well, and this time it would too.

After turning off a few lights, she grabbed her purse and headed to the living room. If the kids needed her, they knew where she’d be. It was all very unexpected, but she was flexible enough to do what was needed. At least until she burned out. Her grandma had tried to instill patience into her and, most days, Lucy knew she’d done a beautiful job handing down that gift. Unfortunately, tired and still shaken from seeing Scott actually hit by a truck, she was feeling edgy.

She needed to sit and relax, and a cup of tea would be absolutely delightful, but aside from several gallons of whole milk and a few bottles of beer, there wasn’t anything besides water. The beer gave her pause. She backtracked and took one of the icy bottles from the fridge. A cold beer had never sounded better.

Scott still rested when she turned on the little lamp beside the loveseat on the opposite wall of the room. He was so big, yet on the couch, he looked smaller. Pain did that to a person and her heart broke a little. She wished she could do something for him. She twisted the metal cap off the beer bottle and tried to be quiet, but it hissed when it released.

Scott’s eyes flew open and she wished she’d grabbed a glass of water.

“Sorry I woke you,” she whispered. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all. Help yourself to whatever you want.”

He looked a little off, but she couldn’t quite place what was wrong. Were his eyes blurry?

“Are you feeling okay, Scott? Can I bring you some water or anything?”

“I feel funny,” he said, his grin cockeyed and adorable. Cute or not, warning bells went off in Lucy’s head.

“Fever, maybe?” She set aside her beer and hurried to him, pressing the back of her hand to his forehead. “Oh, honey, you’re burning up.”

“Mmm.” He rubbed his head to her hand like an animal begging for a petting. His hand snuck out from his blanket and Lucy started when it wrapped just above her knee. “You smell so good.”

She laughed lightly. “I’m glad you think so, Scott. I need to find your Tylenol. Where do you keep it, so I can get you some to bring this fever down?”

“No meds. It’ll pass.” He kept rubbing his face to her hand. “Mmmm, so good. Everyone should smell as good as you.”

“Oh.” He massaged her thigh and, though his hand didn’t move up, it kept her attention. “Scott, you need to let me loose so I can get you some medication, sweetie.”

“I’d like to be your sweetie,” he said. “I’d even let you call me stupid stuff like cupcake.”

The fever had to be loosening up his tongue. The stoic, tough Scott she’d known so far wasn’t so chatty, but still, it was incredibly nice to hear his silly words directed at her.

“You should come snuggle me,” Scott said, tucking her hand beneath his cheek. “You know, in case I get the chills or something.”

“Right, I don’t see that happening, big boy. You need to sleep this off if you don’t think Tylenol will help.”

“Naw, doesn’t work. Just snuggles and pets soothe the wolf.”

Her confusion at his odd words was probably the reason she let herself be tugged down to sit on the sofa. In a flash, he had his head docilely in her lap and the crazy talk was done, Scott back to sleep.

She sighed. How she got herself into situations like this, she’d never know. Maybe she was too nice. She should have been more firm with Scott. If she had, she’d be enjoying her beer. She rested her hand on his shaved head. It was a little warm and since it seemed to soothe him, she stroked her hand from his forehead to his neck. She had to admit the change of seating wasn’t that bad. If she were across the room in her chair with a beer, she wouldn’t be touching Scott.

The unexpected tradeoff was better than she’d have thought. He was softer than he looked and even though he always said she smelled good, he was the one who really smelled different. A really wonderful different.

Her knitting lay on the loveseat beside her beer, but fatigue settled in. The trauma and drama of the day were catching up and she was tired. Scott would probably need her in the night and the kids would be up early. Sleeping sounded just right.

Chapter 6

Fever. It raged dangerously high, and Scott couldn’t break himself from the heat. What the hell had he been thinking, grabbing Lucy? She should have smacked him silly. Instead she’d sat quietly and petted his head while she thought he slept. He hoped she dozed hard enough for him to move without waking her. If he could force himself to make the break.

He had to change. His wolf needed rein before the fever burnt him up. The shift would also help with the healing, but the second he gave the change control, he’d be unable to tell Lucy what was happening. Ah hell, she was sleeping. It would work.

The wolf came upon him quickly, hurting only because of his sore muscles and damaged skin. Any other day, it wouldn’t have hurt, but there was no avoiding the burn this time. He jumped to his feet as he shifted, trying to put space between him and Lucy before he accidentally woke her.

He stretched when his four paws hit the floor. Damn, it felt good to be a wolf. It had been over a week since his last change, when he and the kids had roughhoused in the basement for a few hours. He wished he could go for a run. The fever made him bold. A nice long run, maybe a rabbit chase would go a long way to make him feel werewolf again.

“Oh my gosh.”

He froze. Wolf or not, there was no denying the man in him, and the man had heard his female freak out.

Scott turned slowly, trying to be calm and comforting so she wouldn’t panic. Lucy stood on her feet, her lovely sleep expression replaced with terror. The early morning light made it especially easy to see her exact features. His calm, patient Lucy was at the end of her rope.

“Scott? No. A dog,” she muttered to herself more than actually addressing him, and he realized she must have seen or felt him change instead of assuming he’d left and a dog had entered the house. “You have to be a dog. You can’t be Scott. That’s not possible.”

Possible or not, he couldn’t speak as a wolf and she needed him to if she was going to hold herself together. He shifted again, grabbing the blanket the second he had hands again. He always shredded his clothes when he shifted, but hadn’t thought of that in his fevered delirium. The last thing Lucy needed was to be alone with a strange, naked wolf-man.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh.” She repeated herself, moving away from him as much as the little room allowed. “What the heck are you?”

“Lucy, it’s okay. I know this is unexpected, but I can explain.”

“You can explain how you changed into a big dog and then changed back?” she demanded and grabbed her purse from the loveseat, holding the giant sack in front of her in defense.

“Not a dog.” He winced when she whimpered. “Honey, I promise you nothing is going to happen to you. I’d never ever hurt you. You know what you just saw. I didn’t turn into a dog. I can shift into a wolf because I’m a werewolf.”

“You’re crazy.” Lucy’s panic stumbled into shock and Scott felt it in the room like an ugly gas. Her terror suffocated him.

His truck keys caught his attention. Taking care to move slowly, he stepped forward and used the tip of his finger to nudge the keys closer to Lucy before stepping back again. “I’m not going to keep you here, Lucy. Take my truck and go home if you need to, okay? We can talk about this in a few days.”

“No, we won’t.” She snatched the keys and hugged back to the wall. “No, because this is crazy. This isn’t real. I’m leaving and you’re not a werewolf. You’re some crazy man and I need to go home.”

“That’s fine, sweetheart, go home,” he said, though her fear was killing him. He hated that he’d scared her.

Lucy walked backward to the door, keeping her eyes on him, but he didn’t move. He wasn’t giving her any more reason to be afraid of him. She got to the door and ran. He heard the main door open and her feet flying over the concrete to his truck. It roared to life. Still, he didn’t move. He’d frightened her away and Scott couldn’t remember a single time when he’d felt worse. It had been tough being kicked out of his pack. Scaring Lucy, even unintentionally, was a new low.

Chapter 7

Werewolf. It couldn’t be real. How could it be real? Lucy still shook as she pulled the truck over after driving three blocks from Scott’s house. She’d been dreaming about powder-blue wool when she felt him move. She’d barely opened her eyes in time to see him change from the man she’d been snuggling into a wolf. A real wolf with gray fur and a set of unbelievable teeth in its mouth. It had stretched and wiggled and… She shook herself again. No, that had to be impossible.

If werewolves really existed, then they would have been exposed by now. She’d finally snapped. Her grandma had always warned if she didn’t have a balanced life she’d go crazy. She must have been working too many hours or maybe she hadn’t had enough vitamin C lately. Surley there was a logical explanation for why the really nice man she hadn’t been able to get out of her head in weeks had turned into a wolf.

She rested her forehead against the steering wheel, thankful for how clean it was. The vehicle reminded her of Scott, big, powerful... She hoped to everything good and holy in the world it didn’t transform. Maybe she was just tired. Fatigue made people see unexplainable things sometimes. She needed to go home, drink herbal tea, have some granola and sleep in her own bed. When she woke up, the whole day and night would be nothing more than a dream.

She put the truck in gear again, turning right at the corner near her apartment. Home was only a few minutes away, which meant her sanctuary approached. She was halfway home when guilt started trickling in. The kids hadn’t eaten breakfast. She’d taken off like a giant wimp and if Scott—whom she was not going to think too much of—was back to being ill, then they wouldn’t have anything to eat. Their trusting eyes came to mind and she knew there was no way she could walk away.