Roaring for Him (BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance) (Wicked in Wilder Book 1) (22 page)

It was Kade’s turn to sigh. “Dammit. I had no idea… Seth is Darcy’s cousin, but there’s no way she would have let this slide and not say anything to me.”

Mitchell wasn’t so sure he could trust that. Not after what happened at the pack house. “Where is she?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. After the kitchen we went to our room and argued. She stormed off.
Fuck
. I wanna say she didn’t know.”

“I don’t have many options here, Kade.” Sometimes he hated his position, hated how this would harm his beta and friend. “While we hunt Seth, I need you to find Darcy. They both have a problem with Tilly. They’re related.”

“I know,” he sounded resigned.

“If I find out she knew and kept quiet… I can’t let that pass.”

He didn’t scent the female around the bakery, so he didn’t believe she participated, but she was Seth’s only other relative in the pack and growing up they’d been in each other’s pockets. Seth had only joined the Wilder pack when Darcy discovered she was Kade’s mate and moved to Wilder.

“I don’t expect you to let it go.” Kade’s pain was like a physical thing. It reached through the phone lines and squeezed Mitchell’s heart. “I’ll abide by whatever punishment the alpha deems necessary.”

“You know I don’t want to lose you over this.” They’d been friends—partners in crime—for as long as he could remember.

“I know, but Darcy is—”

“Your mate. I get it.” He hated it. Fucking hated it more than anything. Already he felt torn in two, his need for vengeance and feelings for Tilly fighting his loyalty and history with Kade. “I can’t pretend to know how this is for you, but can I trust you to find her?”

“Yes.” Kade’s response was lined with pain.

“No, I can’t ask you to do this.” He shook his head. What the fuck was he thinking to force a male to bring in his mate? “Talk to the sentinels and—”

“No.” His denial was flat and immediate. “I’ll call you when I have something for you. What are your plans now?”

“Now?” Fuck if he knew. “My wolf wants to drag Tilly and Phoebe back to the den but I worry about Seth and Darcy and anyone else who might side with them. It’s a sad fucking day when an alpha can’t trust his own pack.” And it made him feel like shit. It made his wolf furious. Screw that, enraged. It was enraged they couldn’t depend on their own pack.

“So where then?”

The only other place Tilly would be comfortable. Hell, she probably only tolerated the pack house, so it was the
only
place she was comfortable. “Tilly’s.”

Phoebe looked so peaceful when she slept, no one would know a ferocious bear lived inside her. No one would look at her and think, “She could kill me with one hit.”

But that was the truth.

It was the truth driven home earlier in the day when she lost herself to the animal. And now, she was back. Back and exhausted.

Tilly brushed aside a few errant strands of hair and then grasped the blanket covering her youngest sister. She rearranged it so Phoebe was fully blanketed and snug in her bed. They’d returned to their home and she could honestly say she was relieved. There was no way she’d step foot in the pack house while those who defaced her bakery still lingered.

Phoebe sighed and snuggled deeper into her blankets, humming when she finally found a comfortable position. God, she looked the same as she had when she was seven and still cried for their mother.

Ugh. Their mother. As if dealing with pissed off wolves wasn’t enough.

She turned from her sister, slipped out of the bedroom silently, and tugged the wood panel closed behind her. A deep breath brought Mitchell’s scent into her body and allowed her to track him through the house. She slowly strode down the hallway toward the steps and took them quietly to the first floor.

The house was blessedly silent, the only sounds that reached her belonged to her mate. He was in her kitchen, puttering, and then the delicious aromas of coffee reached her. She turned left at the bottom of the steps and moved toward the kitchen, anxious for the sight of him and a taste of that bitter brew.

Tilly paused just inside the room. She took a moment and leaned against the counter, watching him move through the small space and make coffee with efficient, deft movements. She didn’t think she’d ever get used the sight of him, to his broad shoulders, tapered waist, and thick thighs. He was strength and power personified. He was beautiful and frightening at the same time. She wanted to get closer. She wanted to run far away. He meant so many things to her already.

He could empower her. He could destroy her. She hated that he held that much emotional sway and yet loved it at the same time. Since meeting him, her life had gotten more complicated, but she still couldn’t figure out if that was a bad thing.

“What flavor did you make?” Mitchell didn’t jerk or jump with her sudden words and she had no doubt he’d tracked her—listened—as she moved through the house.

“Regular with a dash of hot chocolate. Phoebe said if I wanted to get my way, I had to smooth the path with chocolate.” He ended the sentence with a boyish grin.

“No fair. She’s not supposed to tell all my secrets.”

He shrugged. “A guy’s gotta take what advantage he can.”

“Uh-huh.” She padded forward and reached for one of the mugs he held. She took a moment to blow on the steaming liquid before she spoke again. “So what do you want?”

“You.”

Tilly melted, her body going soft and heart squeezing with that single word. “We’re mates.”

He shook his head. “That doesn’t mean I have you. It just means we belong together.” He carefully set his cup aside and eased closer. She mirrored his movement, placing her own mug on the counter at his approach and waited for him to finish his thought. “If I had you, you wouldn’t have crept from my bed.”

Her face warmed and she backed away the nearer he came until the counter pressed into her back.

Mitchell ignored the sudden rush of color and continued. “You wouldn’t have answered Emma’s call and then abandoned me.” He leaned toward her and bracketed her with his thick arms. “You wouldn’t have left the compound without me at your side.” He eased even closer, surrounding her with his presence. He lowered his head and whispered against her neck, teasing her with his breathy touch. “And the moment you scented the markings from that wolf, you would have called me.”

“I—” She swallowed the words that leapt to her lips. She had no defense. He was right. One hundred percent right. “I’m sorry.”

Mitchell pulled back and his amber gaze met hers. It told her without words that his wolf was deeply affected by her actions as well. “I know.”

That was all she got from him. Those two words, and then he pushed away from her. He snagged his cup before putting distance between them.

His pain speared her heart, reached into her chest and squeezed the muscle until she thought she’d die from the unending ache. She hadn’t just snuck out. She’d essentially told one and all that when faced with a threat, she didn’t need him. She didn’t trust him. She couldn’t depend on him.

And that was so very, very far from the truth.

He strode toward the back door, mug in hand, and he reached for the doorknob with the other. He twisted the knob and tugged to give himself access to the backyard.

“Mitchell?”

He paused and glanced at her over his shoulder, a single brow raised in question.

She needed to let him in, right? She needed to tell him about the shit pinging around in her head, needed to let him share the burden. She’d shouldered it for twenty-eight years and now it was time.

Tilly licked her lips, unsure where she should start. “You want me to share with you. You want me to let you help me with my problems.” They weren’t questions, but he nodded anyway. “Then I need you to sit with me a sec so I can.”

“Baby?”

Her eyes stung with tears and the liquid gathered and clouded her vision. “Please?”

“Aw, sweetheart. You’re killing me,” he murmured and then his strong arms encircled her, squeezing tightly as he led her to the kitchen table. He lowered into one of the chairs and she allowed him to tug her onto his lap. “I don’t want you to cry, Tilly. Never mind. You don’t have to say anything.”

She shook her head. “No, I do. I’m gonna need your help with her anyway, but you need to understand. You need to get it before I put you in the middle of this.” She ran a hand through her hair and wiped away a tear. “I don’t even know why I got involved with you. I should save you the trouble because… God, Mitchell. She can be so bad. The world can blow up in a second and sometimes you don’t get a warning.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Phee. Us. Me.” She flashed him a rueful grin. “Remember when you said you wouldn’t leave?”

Mitchell squeezed her, his arms tightening slightly. “Never will, baby.”

She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Remembering. Always remembering.

“Phee shifted before most kids, you know? Full shifters get hit with the change at thirteen, but Phoebe couldn’t wait and it turned out, she didn’t have to. Being a half—” she ignored his growl “—means not everything works right. For Phoebe, that’s her eyes occasionally and her shift.” She sighed and sank into him. “She’s so damned strong, Mitchell. Not just because she’s a bear, but her inner animal is a beast. She shifted early because the bear was determined to get
out
and… and it did.”

Tilly chuckled, but it wasn’t because she found it funny. No, it was just so damned sad. She let the past catch up, let it nudge forward as she talked about the darkest time in their lives.

“I’d called Liv and told her I’d be late. I had a job interview and maybe I wouldn’t have to work two jobs if I got this one.” Her voice was low, but she had no doubt he heard every word.

“Doing what?”

She snorted. “It wasn’t a what, but a
them
.” She reached for his hand and squeezed his fingers. “You won’t leave me no matter what?”

She needed the words again even if they became a lie after she’d told it all.

“No matter what.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I swear.”

“Right,” she swallowed hard. “The job. There are human men who know about shifters and get off on fucking them.” Mitchell growled low, but she didn’t stop. The memory was too strong, too harsh. “I first met the guy at the gas station. One in the morning and he was in there buying cigarettes again…”

The guy always wore a suit, the lines clean, and the white of his shirt crisp. Money. He screamed money and yet he still came to the station at one in the morning, every night without fail for two weeks.

“Sug, don’t you have a better job than this? Sweet little piece like you…” He shook his head and clucked his tongue. His gaze scraped over her body and his leer was firmly in place when he rested on her breasts. “You wanna do this for the rest of your life?”

Tilly snorted. “Not hardly. But it pays the bills.” Mostly.

“Uh-huh. Saw you at Darla’s working, too.”

She shrugged. It wasn’t a secret. She waited tables in the mornings while Liv got her and Phee out the door for school. Then she dealt with them after school and worked evenings at the station. It was hell, but it was her hell and it’d been working for a few years. Tilly would have to figure something out for next year since Liv was about to leave for college, but for now, this was good.

Except for the fact she was exhausted all the time. Not much she could do about it though, so she wasn’t going to complain. No point anyway.

“Yup.”

“I see you there every day. Here too.”

“Uh-huh.” The door tinkled and the drug dealer from two blocks over slunk into the store. Great. She seriously didn’t wanna get held up at gun point tonight and that crap happened way too often. “Want a pack of Reds?”

“Sure.” The guy was nothing if not predictable.

She tugged the cigs free and placed them on the counter.

Something else hit the counter, too.

A gun, a dirty fist clutching the grip. Dirt was caked around the cuticles, grime beneath the nails. Who knew what coated the fingers. “Want your cash.”

The voice trembled and grated on her nerves.

She followed the line of his arm, gaze skating over his disgusting jacket that hung from his thin frame and on to meet his stare. “Charlie,” she sighed. “You really wanna do this?”

Again.

“Give it to me.” His pupils were the size of dinner-plates, color of his irises almost swallowed by the black. “All of it.”

Dammit, he was high. Again.

Moving slowly, she raised her hands and carefully eased toward the register. Her gaze flicked from Charlie to the stranger and back again. She hoped like hell Mr. Expensive Suit didn’t try anything.

“Move, dammit!” Charlie lifted the gun and pointed it at her, arm trembling.

“I’m moving, Charlie. Stay calm. I always give you what you want.” She kept her voice low and soothing. The first time he’d pulled this stunt, she’d been a shaking mess. Now it was just par for the course.

Except then it wasn’t. Mainly because she typed in her code on the cash register, but at the same time a car horn in the parking lot blared. Not a huge deal. Or it wouldn’t have been if Mr. Expensive Suit hadn’t elbowed Charlie.

On accident or on purpose?

Didn’t matter because the result was the same.

Tilly was shot.

“You got fucking shot?” Mitchell snarled, his deep near-roar yanking her from the past. “Where? I didn’t see—”

“You weren’t looking,” she whispered softly and stilled his hands as he tore at her clothing. “It doesn’t matter. That was just the beginning. This isn’t about getting shot while I was working. There’s so much more.”

“Tilly…” His eyes were pained.

“Mr. Expensive Suit was named Dex Sullivan.”

“Oh shit,” Mitchell whispered, freezing in place.

“He followed the ambulance. Paid the hospital bills.”

“The biggest shifter pimp didn’t follow you and pay for your care for no reason,” he growled, gray fur sliding free of his pores as his cheekbones sharpened.

“No, he didn’t.” She took a deep breath. “But he didn’t demand repayment until after I’d healed.”