“What the fuck?” Max croaked, just as Vivian’s hoarse, terrified voice filled the room.
“Shit, Skye... My stupid battery is dying, but I don’t think I should keep my phone on anyway. Remember that show we watched where the stalker traced the girl’s cell signal? I know I sound paranoid...but, God, Skye, you didn’t see these guys. They showed up at our apartment while I was there, and it...it was freaking crazy and I—” She broke off, hissing as if she was in pain, before muttering a sharp curse, and then going on in a tight, breathless voice. “They tried to follow me when I got away, but I managed to ditch them on the road. Now I just... I need to disappear for a while. I tried to call the diner again, just in case Robin was wrong and you were still there, and this time I got Cheryl. She said you weren’t with the police, but that she thought you’d left with some...some badass hottie. She said he stopped the robbery and saved you. God, I hope you’re with him and not coming home tonight. Just please...please be careful! I promise to call as soon as I ca—”
The machine beeped, and Skye looked like she wanted to kick it for cutting off her friend, even though it was Vivian’s phone going dead that had ended the call. “I hate freaking technology!” she muttered, fisting her hands at her sides as she turned her head, locking her raw gaze with his. “Her phone charger for her car is broken, so who knows when she’ll be able to call back.”
Elliot opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Max made a deep, guttural sound that drew their attention.
“Holy shit,” the guy growled, looking like he might collapse in relief. “She must have been leaving that message just as I got here.” He slumped back against the wall that was behind him, his chest jerking with each of his ragged breaths. Then he lifted his hands, scrubbing them down his face, and Elliot had the feeling that Max was trying to keep them both from seeing whatever expression he was wearing at that exact moment.
“Ohmygod, why am I even freaking out about her phone? She got away!” Skye’s hoarse words came out in a breathless rush as she brought her stunned gaze back to his. “They don’t have her, right?”
“Yeah. That message they left in her room—it’s bullshit.”
Her slender brows pulled together with worry. “But where did the blood come from? Could it...could it be from an animal or something?”
“Maybe,” he lied, flicking his tongue over his lower lip. He knew damn well that it wasn’t from an animal, because he’d already been able to tell from the scent of the blood that it was Vivian’s. “Or she might’ve gotten hurt fighting them off—but hopefully not too badly. As much as it sucks that she’s run, she’s actually being smart by getting away from here. And I think she really does believe she’s keeping the bad guys away from you. Which means she’s one hell of a friend.”
“This is...this is crazy.” She shook her head, looking like she was caught in some painful, confusing place between shock and terror and relief. “My head is spinning.”
Wanting to hold her again so badly he could taste it, he told her, “Just take another deep breath.” Then he tacked on what was starting to sound like his goddamn mantra for the night: “It’s gonna be okay.”
Her beautiful green eyes, still red from crying, went wide. “How the hell is it going to be okay?” she asked with a bitter, scratchy laugh. “None of this is okay, and I’m so pissed off about all of it. And that stupid sentimental crap of her mom’s! She got hurt because she came back for it.”
Elliot took a step toward her, wondering what she was talking about. “What exactly was she keeping for her?”
Voice tight with frustration, she said, “Viv’s dad was a complete bastard who abandoned them years ago, but her mom, Marcia, is still completely hung up on him. And her taste in men never improved. Marcia didn’t want the loser she’s getting ready to dump to trash the few things she has left that were Viv’s dad’s out of spite, so the last time Viv saw her, Marcia asked her to hold on to them for a few weeks. They’re the only keepsakes that she has from their marriage, and Viv knows how badly her mom would freak if anything happened to them.”
Cursing under his breath, he understood exactly why Skye was so frustrated. If not for the mementos, her friend probably wouldn’t have come back to the apartment at all that night. “In that first message,” he rasped, recalling something that Vivian had said, “what did she mean about the shelter?”
She winced as her gaze skittered away from his. “That’s, um, where we met. Viv lived there with her mom and her little brothers.”
Already knowing he wasn’t going to like how this story went, he asked, “How old were you?”
Her mouth twisted, almost like she had tasted something bad, and then she slowly brought her gaze back to his. “Sixteen.”
His jaw tightened, and he could feel the muscle pulsing there, just like Max’s had done when he’d been warning him about Vivian’s bedroom. The idea of his life-mate living in a women’s shelter at the age of sixteen made him burn with a raw, desperate feeling of rage. Christ, there were so many questions running through his head, jamming into each other, he couldn’t even think where to begin.
And Max... Oh yeah, Max was onto him. Big-time. He could feel the weight of his partner’s questioning stare burning against the side of his face, and knew that Max had picked up on the fact that there was more going on between him and Skye than Elliot merely doing his job.
But this wasn’t the time for him to start explaining that she was his. If he did, Max would push him to tell her everything, and that wasn’t something he was ready for. Hell, he hadn’t had time to even figure out how he was going to do it. Wasn’t like he could just blurt out that he was a fucking werewolf, and then tack on an Oh, and by the way, we’re also meant to spend the rest of our lives together. She’d probably think he was insane and run so fast it’d make his friggin’ head spin.
No, right now his main objective needed to be her safety. Then, once that was settled, he could start the terrifying prospect of trying to figure out how to lay it all out on the line for her, while still holding his most painful secrets close to his chest. Max would tell him he was stupid, and that he was making a massive mistake by not telling her everything, but Max wasn’t the one walking around with that kind of shit staining his soul.
So, yeah, Skye knowing the truth about him, and about the things he’d done, was the last damn thing that Elliot wanted.
And yet, how the hell was he meant to claim her, binding them together body, heart and soul, without ever being completely honest with her? He didn’t know, and this really wasn’t the time to figure it out.
Breaking the awkward silence that had settled over the room, Skye murmured that she needed to get her things from the bathroom. Elliot stayed where he was as she hurried past him, but kept a careful eye on her, while doing his best to ignore Max’s questioning stare. Jesus, he could feel the pressure of that look battering against his skull like a hammer, until it started to make his head hurt.
“Are you going to tell me—?”
“Let it go,” he grunted, cutting the guy off just as Skye came back into the room with a small pink bag in her hand. Sliding her backpack off his shoulder, he held it open for her as she added the smaller bag to the inside, setting it on top of her clothes.
“Don’t close it yet, please,” she said, turning and heading toward the small kitchenette. “There’s one more thing I need to pack.”
Curious, Elliot followed Skye into the small room, watching as she opened one of the painted cupboards and pulled down a colorful box of cereal. She opened the top, reached into the box, and instead of pulling out a handful of Cheerios, she was clutching a rolled-up wad of cash being held together by rubber bands.
“Do you really think it’s safe to hide money in this place?” Max asked, coming to stand beside him.
“It’s