Roaring Up the Wrong Tree (4 page)

Was that who he’d met? It seemed too coincidental. Did they really have a hyena living in Grayslake and working in Redby?

Actually, she worked in Boyne Falls at the Left Bank bar, too. That information cost him a hundred bucks and had him suffering through a conversation with Jerry.

Keen scented the air, drawing in the flavors of the parking lot and hunting up the identity of those inside the bar. The aromas of bears and wolves reached him, the flavors sinking into his lungs. None of the patrons were particularly strong, mostly regular members of the Grayslake clan and Redby pack. After purging Boyne Falls of all hyenas, wolves and bears took up residence. The fact that their clan and pack managed to mingle without bloodshed said a lot about Ty and Reid.

He also found Trista’s scent lurking beneath the surface of the others. A hyena in Boyne Falls. He breathed deeper, drawing in more; was she just a hyena though? Half maybe? But there was something else in there… Keen shook his head, unable to believe the balls on the woman.

He pushed away from his SUV and headed toward the front door. He and the woman had a bit of a reckoning coming. She needed to get gone. His brothers wouldn’t stand for her presence and he didn’t even want to think about how Reid would react.

Except his bear didn’t want her lush, curvaceous ass going anywhere other than his bed. Unlike nearly every other woman he’d come across, his animal wanted her writhing beneath him and screaming his name in pleasure. It had a singular focus: her. It roared and snarled, demanding he hunt her, find her, and claim her. No one else would ever place a hand on her skin.

Fucking crazy-assed bear.

He tugged on the door and strode through the portal. He stepped to the side, allowing others to come and go as he adjusted to the bar’s atmosphere. Loud music assaulted his ears while the heavy scents of many bodies filled his nose. This was why he rarely went to places like this. It was hell on his senses.

Men and women packed the space, some settled at seats while a few were on an impromptu dance floor toward the center. His feet almost stuck to the concrete as he wove his way through the room, occasionally sliding when he stepped in a puddle of who the hell knew what. The smash and tinkle of glass breaking cut through the music but no one seemed to care. Okay then.

Left Bank looked to be about one step above a total dive and the only thing helping it cling to that dubious distinction stood behind the bar.

The place was dim, the lights shining on the bartenders, and there stood the reason Left Bank couldn’t be considered a total loss. Her hair shined in the low light, bringing out the different shades of brown. Hints of red glistened and caught the glow. It also highlighted the curves of her body, tracing each rise and fall of her form. Including her deep cleavage exposed by the V of her shirt. It clung to her chest, outlining her breasts, seeming to offer them up to whoever would accept the invitation.

It sure as hell wasn’t gonna be the guys drooling over her. And he wasn’t going to think about the fact that his bear was ready to destroy the next man who touched her.

At all.

Keen waded through the press of customers, ignoring the purrs and strokes from the women he bumped. Normally, his bear would take comfort and solace in the contact, but today it wanted to snarl at the females. Damn it, his world was whirling through the air and he wasn’t sure where he’d land.

He pushed between two large males, shoving one and then the other aside. The one on his left, a bear whose name he couldn’t remember, bared his human-shaped teeth. At least the man managed to keep his animal at bay. Otherwise, he’d have to haul him off to face Van.

Keen knew the laws; Van enforced them.

And that thought brought him back to what sent him tearing out of the clan den earlier in the day.

Keen knew the laws, but he no longer had the power to act. Not like he would have if he were still in the inner-circle. Which meant he could face Trista as a man free of obligation and that thought lifted him. If he found out she posed a threat to the clan or pack, he’d take her to Ty, but he doubted she was one to cause trouble. Ty would have heard about it by now if that was the case.

The wolf on his right curled his lip and he revealed a very non-human fang. Obviously the guy didn’t know who he was fighting with.

Leaning forward ever so slightly, and careful to keep his voice low, he spoke to the male. “You should think long and hard about your attitude.”

The wolf’s nostrils flared, chest expanding as he drew in a breath. His eyes widened and he stepped back, putting more distance between him and Keen.

Smart wolf.

Trista continued to walk past him, smiling at one customer or another as she slid drinks over the smooth surface and pocketed tips. That’s when he noticed the rest of her. While her top was snug and new, her jeans were frayed, ragged, and loose. From the waist up, she looked like any other laughing bartender. But waist down told a different story. She didn’t have a lot of money and had probably been nursing those pants along for months if not longer. The seams were white and there were several patches where the cotton was so thin, he could see the creaminess of her skin.

She had two jobs and lived in a dump like Lauren’s old apartment and she still had trouble with money.

The bear didn’t think she should have problems ever again since they’d take care of her.

He told his bear to fuck off. They were too screwed up to attach themselves to a woman. Females like Helena were one thing, but Trista seemed like she’d be a hell of a lot more.

His animal was good with that.

Raising his hand, he waved to get her attention. When her gaze finally landed on him, he didn’t miss the slight widening of her eyes or the way her chest rose and fell, straining her shirt. He recognized the beginnings of panic in her. It was the same reaction she had at the gas station.

She was like a scared rabbit, even if she was a hyena.

Trista remained frozen in place, the beer in her hand obviously forgotten. One second turned into two and still she didn’t budge. Finally, the gruff voice of another man got her moving.

“Trista!”

She jerked, spilling some of the brew, but managed to slide it onto the bar mostly full. The smile she flashed the customer was fake, her happiness obviously dimmed by his presence.

Just because she didn’t want to see him didn’t mean he’d leave.

She slowly made her way toward him, checking in with different patrons, filling a glass or mixing another drink before she moved on. The closer she came, the slower she moved, as if dragging her ass would make a difference. She’d soon learn it didn’t.

Finally she stood before him and he looked his fill. He traced her features with his gaze, noting her round face and the dimple that appeared when she smiled as well as the pale blue of her eyes. Combined with her beautiful body and her gorgeous hair… She took his breath away. Right then, right there, Keen couldn’t breathe.

“What can I get you?” The words were flat and without emotion, but he knew better. The vein along her throat pulsed and pushed against her skin, belying her indifference.

“Beer. Whatever you’ve got on tap.” He placed a twenty on the bar and slid it toward her. When she moved to take it, he grasped her hand and rubbed his thumb over her flesh. “And ten minutes of your time.”

“I’m working.” She snatched her hand back, taking the cash with her.

Keen kept his attention on her as she strode to the register and collected the change before turning and pulling his drink. In just over a minute, he had his beer and a handful of bills, but instead of taking it, he pushed the money back toward her.

Of course, she shook her head in denial. “No. Keep your money.”

“I’m tipping you.” He raised a single brow. “You’re so rich you’ll turn away that kind of tip?”

Red suffused her face and—after thinking through what he’d said—he prayed it was in anger and not embarrassment. The last thing he wanted to do was mock her. He… wanted to take care of her.

Even if it was wrong for him to have those desires. A bear and a hyena?

No.

Just no.

She moved to shove it back at him and once again he pushed it back. “Take it as a tip or I’m giving it to this guy.” He tilted it toward the bear beside him. He would have selected the wolf, but wolves were assholes and he wasn’t sure the guy would refuse the cash.

With another glare, she shoved it in her pocket and turned away as if he were already forgotten.

Nah, that wasn’t gonna happen.

“Ten minutes, Trista.” He raised his voice enough to be heard.

She spun on him, eyes shooting fire in his direction. She stomped back to him and leaned over the bar. At the same time she snatched his shirt, fisting the material and dragging him toward her.

She kept her voice low, hissing at him before spitting her words in a furious whisper. “You may have every woman in Grayslake sniffing after you and you may spend the night in their beds, but I’m not some bear
whore
you can buy, Keen Abrams.”

Damn his reputation, and damn him for letting it get out of control.

His heart squeezed and his dick went hard. He hurt for her even as he wanted her. Damn it. Based on the fierce reaction, he knew others had done the same except while he wanted to talk to her, they wanted something else.

The thought enraged his bear and the animal stretched his skin, pushing and shoving at his control until he thought he’d bust out his fur in the middle of the bar. Fuck. He breathed deeply, fighting the need to gag as the sour scents of the room filled his lungs. At least battling the urge to vomit distracted the bear from its desire to destroy the place.

Keen settled on his stool and resigned himself to watching her work. He glared at one male after another, shifter or not, when they got too friendly with her. It didn’t take long for word to spread amongst the shifters in the building. The men went from leering to respectful in less than a half hour and it only took the humans a full hour to catch on. Trista still got her tips, still pulled drinks, but she didn’t get the fast grabs and tugs as the males tried to get real friendly.

He couldn’t understand why the bear wanted her so much, but while it remained steadfast in its desire for her, he’d humor the beast. The animal wanting to pounce on Trista was better than the animal wanting to gut the nearest shifter to prove his dominance.

Hour after hour passed, the men beside him ever changing, but he remained in place and kept his gaze on her. It was only a matter of time before she got off for the night and he’d be there. Ready to speak to her. Ready to find out the truth. Ready for… more?

Trista stepped into Left Bank’s darkened parking lot. Several streetlights were out, broken by one drunk customer or another. Apparently it was fun to throw empty beer bottles at the lights. Right.

She waved goodbye to her boss, leaving him as he locked up, and headed toward the sidewalk. Two in the morning and she had a good forty-minute hike to her apartment.

She strode over the glass and rock-strewn asphalt, avoiding the deep cracks and several potholes that littered the area. At some point her boss needed to clean the place up, but his favorite word was “soon.”

Rolling her eyes, she hit the sidewalk and began her long trudge homeward. Thankfully she was allowed to wear black boots instead of the “fuck me” heels the waitresses wore.

Shoving her hands into jeans pockets, she refocused on her journey, careful to keep her attention on her surroundings. She’d been hounded by men during her walks in the past. Though they tended to find her difficult prey. It was hard to be scared when she was stronger than they were. She didn’t get fangs and claws, but she had the reflexes and strength. She’d left more than one guy whimpering in her wake.

Occasionally a car zipped past, the residual wind whipping through her while also sending the trash littering the ground spinning and flying through the air. A can rolled into her path and she kicked it, the aluminum tinkling over the hard surface.

The sounds brought forward old memories of her and her mother doing the same, hand in hand as they walked along the road. Thoughts of the past brought a pain she’d been shoving to the back of her mind for months. She wasn’t going there ever again. Thinking about it couldn’t change anything.

The deep rumble of an approaching vehicle reached her just as its headlights painted her back. Her shadow danced on the sidewalk, reminding her once again she should think about cutting back and slimming down a little.

Well, going hungry will help that right along.

She had to be one of the only fluffy—never fat—shifters. Then again, Lauren hadn’t been all that skinny. Oh, wait, she was human. Damn it, she didn’t have a sister in solidarity.

The vehicle that neared her actually slowed instead of speeding past and she groaned. Not another one of
those
. Did she have “I’m a whore” stamped on her ass or something?

She ignored its presence as it slowed enough to keep pace with her. She also ignored the tell-tale sound of a window being lowered. Maybe the person would just go away.

“Trista!”

God hated her.

Trista glanced at the SUV riding alongside her and glared at the driver. “I’m pretty sure I told you I’m not a whore.”

Keen grumbled too low for her to hear and then he raised his voice. “I know you’re not a whore. I just wanna talk.”

“Sorry.” She shrugged. “All talked out.”

“No, there are plenty of things to say. Such as: what are you doing alternating between Grayslake, Redby, and Boyne Falls when you shouldn’t be anywhere near here?”

She huffed and stopped, turning toward him with a glare. “Sleeping, working, and working. There, done.”

She returned to her journey homeward, stomping instead of walking. Panic and worry assaulted her and she prayed he wouldn’t see how much he upset her.

The law is on my side. The law is on my side.

Even if the law hadn’t done a damn thing for her seven months ago. Nor had the asshole in the Southeast inner-circle, but she wasn’t a bear and neither was her mother and blah, blah, blah…