TUCKER: Valley Enforcers, #3 (12 page)

I was nose-to-nose with Deacon.
Fuck, fuck, fuck
. The towering black bear with a white snout was one hundred percent alpha and one hundred percent pissed. And he was forcing me to shift back. I would’ve done it on my own, but he beat me to it. A forced shift hurt a thousand times more than a normal one, and on top of my already screaming muscles, I felt like I was being licked up by Satan’s flames.

“What the hell are you two doing?” Normally collected, Deacon’s booming voice made me wince.

I was curled on the ground, trying to decide if my rib was cracked or just beat to hell. The snow helped ease some of the aches and pains, but I’d have to shift to get rid of the rest of the tenderness. I had a feeling I’d have to endure a punishment before I got to shift, though. Collecting myself, I rolled and pushed up off the ground with a groan.

Justin was pushing up off his knees. He sported a nasty black eye, a busted lip trickling blood, and was holding onto his side. I knew I looked just as bad as he did.

Spitting a string of blood and spit onto the ground, my friend shook his head at our boss and our Alpha. “Ask him.”

“We don’t have time for the ‘he said, she said’ bullshit. I want to know why I could hear you two fighting in a completely different quad.” Vex eyed me as he strolled over. “Answers, Justin.”

I didn’t want to tell them about Emily. I didn’t want to tell them anything, actually. “We were just arguing. It happens.”

“That wasn’t ‘just arguing’.”

“Jesus fuck,” Justin groaned. He ran a hand through his hair. “He got pissed when I called him out for being a little piece of shit and ignoring his mate.”

I tasted blood in my mouth, and I weighed the pros and cons of launching myself at Justin one more time. It would probably result in death, but it was a risk I was almost willing to take.

Vex and Deacon spoke at the same time. “What?” “A Mate?”

“For the last time, she is not my mate. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“From this clan?” Deacon asked, ignoring my request.

Justin spoke for me. “No. She’s a wolf from Missoula.”

“Shut the fuck up, man!”

“Enough.” Deacon stepped between us. His voice was back to the low, commanding tone. He looked over to Vex. “Call Dean and tell him to cover Tucker’s shift until we’re through here.” Then back to me and Justin. “Explain. Now. No bullshit or your bleeding will be worse.”

I spent at least five minutes, standing there naked in ten degree weather with an ego as bruised as my ribs, and gave the least detailed account of my relationship with Emily. It felt wrong telling them about her. Vex and Deacon weren’t my friends, but they weren’t strangers. I didn’t want them to know how it hurt to be near her, but it hurt worse when I drove away. That was shit I didn’t even tell Justin, and he was my best friend. A best friend who, even after I beat him to hell, stood by me offering silent support as he waited to be punished for something I brought upon us.

When I said everything I was willing to say, three sets of eyes stared at me like I grew another head. It was probably the most Deacon and Vex ever heard me say at one time. Neither seemed too thrilled, but they weren’t pissed. I learned pretty early on in life that silence from the guys in charge was a lot better than a lecture.

I got one of those, too. A quick one about not letting outsiders on our land, even if it’s a quad away from the main reserve. That was all that was said about the matter. A little part of me wanted them to offer some advice. I was lost. Completely fucking lost when it came to Emily.

In the tense moment before Deacon shifted to administer our punishment, he looked me in the eyes and said, “I would allow a wolf into our clan.”

Whatever emotions and ideas were conjured by his declaration were lost to the searing pain of my bleeding. I got an extra lash for breaking the trespassing policy, but it was worth it. I’d take a dozen more to relive that night. I wasn’t allowed to shift until after my patrol was over. Each step I took hurt like hell. Between my ribs and the bleeding wounds on my back and the way my patchwork heart was ripping at the seams, I felt like I was in hell.

After my patrol, I shifted and slowly lumbered back to Justin’s. He was waiting outside for me with a bottle of beer and a smile. It was barely there, but his pearly whites stuck out in the darkness. We apologized the only way we could – booze and video games. He even offered to skip going to the bar so we could hang out. I wasn’t going to deny him a night out after what felt like the longest day in fucking history, so he went on without me.

I had other plans for the night. Plans that, despite two more beers and a long shower, I couldn’t go through with. Midnight had long come and gone by the time I got the gall to pull out my phone. When my fingers tapped on Emily’s name in my messages, I didn’t back out. When I read over the lone text she sent me, I let myself feel the guilt instead of hiding from it. And when I typed out my own message, I didn’t delete it.

Emily

Scooping up enough salsa to last a family of four through the winter, I shoved a tortilla chip into my mouth and continued to blab to Kate across the table. “I mean, who does he think he is? ‘
I’m sorry. I miss you
.’ What the hell kind of message is that?”

“The same one you’ve been talking about for the past ten minutes.” Kate raised an eyebrow as she slurped her jumbo margarita. It was two in the afternoon and we still had a day of shopping planned, but she went straight for biggest alcoholic beverage they’d serve her. “Why don’t you just text him back, tell him you love him, and then you two can have pretty babies that I’ll spoil because I’m going to be alone forever?”

“And you say
I
am the dramatic one?” I teased.

“Listen.” She waved her hand dismissively. “He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who does the feelings thing, so it was probably a big step for him to admit that he fucked up and he misses you. I don’t know if you should just ignore that.”

“I’m not a subservient person, Kate. You know that. I can’t drop everything for a man. He apologized? So what. Connor apologized a lot too, and look where that got me.”

“Oh no. You can’t start comparing Connor and Tucker. Two totally separate people and situations. Connor is scum. Tucker is a confused hunk.”

The waiter appeared with our food, sliding the steaming plates in front of us. Momentarily distracted by the mountain of beans, rice, and cheese on my plate, I accidentally gave Kate a pass to keep talking. Everything she said was stuff that logically, I knew. That didn’t mean I wasn’t staying up at night playing over every situation like somehow I could predict the future.

“You told me, and I quote, ‘I get this rush around him that I didn’t get with Connor, and that’s terrifying. What does that say about my relationship with my ex-fiancé? What does it say about Tucker?’”

“I was there. I remember what I said. I was also half drunk and a little delusional.”

“You obviously can’t think straight on an empty stomach, Em. Eat. Have some of my marg to prepare you for this life changing conversation we’re going to have.”

Em. Kate never really called me that, but Tucker did. And again, I found myself thinking about him. Or rather, he found his way into another part of my life, as if I wasn’t tortured enough by his ghost. His smell permeated every part of my house. Sometimes it was almost as if I could smell him on me. The first time I picked up his rugged pine blend, I got whiplash from trying to find him in the grocery store parking lot. When I realized I was catching hints of his scent on my body, I laughed to keep from crying. Having a mental breakdown next to a cart corral was typically frowned upon. Smelling Tucker on my skin meant one of two things: my nasal memory was really good or he was my mate. I wasn’t prepared to deal with the second one, so I pretended like every part of my history and all my biological clocks, bells and whistles were wrong.

“Earth to Emily. Hey.” The smell of sweet alcohol tickled my nose. Looking down, I saw that Kate had pushed her drink in front of me. “Drink.”

I slid it across the table and picked up my fork. “I have to drive. You’re not getting out of antiquing with me. I want to add a few new pieces to the shop this week, but nothing I have is inspirational.”

“Me? Try to get out of shopping?
Psssht
. I don’t care if it’s toiletries, shoes, or dusty junk from the sixties. I’m all about it.”

“Sadly. I’ve never seen anybody get so excited over body lotion.”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head, calmly placing her palms flat on the table. “You don’t understand. It was a forty percent off sale at
Bath & Body Works
.”

“You broke into my house, pissed Connor off so much he didn’t talk to me for two days, and dragged me to the mall in an inside out sweater and a pair of stained leggings.”

“Did you not get an amazing deal, though?” She countered, eyebrow cocked. “Case closed. On to the next topic. Tucker. You. How it’s totally a forever kind of thing but you don’t want to admit it.”

Desperate to avoid the conversation, I groaned and reached for the chips. “Can’t I just tell you about how good he is in bed and be done with all things Tucker for the rest of my life?”

The thought of not having Tucker in my life stung more than it should have.

“I
heard
how good he is, Emily. I indulged in the porno-next-door for a few minutes before I put headphones in.” Her shit eating grin made me uncomfortable. I didn’t think we were ever too loud, and our bedrooms were at opposite ends of the building. The twinkle in her eyes told me that none of that mattered.

With a blush I apologized, “Sorry.”

“You’re not sorry. Hell, I probably wouldn’t apologize for sex like that even if my mom overheard. Tucker is hot. Like…
oh my gosh!”
She let out a squeak that drew a few unwanted stares as she shimmied in her booth, a swoony look on her face. “I have been trying to pinpoint who he looks like, and I finally have it! He looks like Oliver Queen from
Arrow
. You’re dating Oliver Queen! Unf.”

“Wait, what? Who?”

She was already on her phone, typing away. A few seconds later a glowing screen was shoved in my face. “Stephen Amell. Aka – the hottest superhero in existence.”

“One, you do know that he isn’t really a superhero, right? And two, I thought Captain America was your favorite superhero?” I barely lifted my eyes from the collage of pictures on the screen. He
did
look like Tucker, minus the scar and the bad attitude.

“Captain America is too wholesome. Yeah, he’s hot, but will he tie me to a bed and fuck me? I don’t think so. Oliver Queen is a brooding bad boy vigilante. He’s the winner, hands down.” Kate made a few choice noises that sounded like she was staring at a piece of cake not a picture on her phone.

I was thankful that the restaurant wasn’t overly busy because she was a little loud and a little vulgar, but stopping her would be next to impossible. I learned early on into our friendship to just let her do her thing and fizzle out. She usually tuckered herself out before she did too much damage. The weekend after Connor left me in the dust she did manage to drag me to a club where, while I miserably downed shot after shot, she ended up in a go-go cage dancing with half her clothes stripped off.

“You can’t avoid talking to him forever.”

“We don’t even live in the same county. I don’t think I’ll have any problems staying away from him.” I pushed around a lump of lettuce and sour cream on my plate. “It’s not a big deal, okay? You know I like to make a big deal out of nothing. I’m just lonely, I guess. It was too quick and too much and neither of us expected that.”

“Was it really too much, though? I think it’s the real deal, and I think you’re scared shitless because of Connor. You can’t let him burn you, Emily.”

“Too late for that,” I muttered with a humorless laugh.

“He was a bad idea. Your relationship was a bad idea. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t commit to someone who you want. Don’t even get me started on the whole mate thing.” Her voice dropped lower and she leaned in. “I know your wolf likes him. That means something, right?”

“It means she’s lonely, too. Enough, Kate. There isn’t anything between us and there never will be. He isn’t my mate.”

Exasperated, she tilted her head back. “Are you even listening to yourself anymore? Honestly? He reached out to you, Em. He apologized. That is proof that there
is
something between you two.”

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I bit out harshly.

Kate pushed her empty cup to the side of the table. She was out of booze, but there was a startling amount of clarity in her eyes when she stared at me. “Fine. Keep pretending. You’re allowed to be happy, Em. One day you’re going to realize that, and I hope it isn’t too late.”

“I’m really not in the mood for your life advice right now. Please, just stop.”

Her face flushed with anger. “Because you’re doing so well without it. I don’t think I’m in the mood to go shopping anymore.” Her hand waved for the waiter like she was trying to find a cab in New York City. “Just take me home. We can hang out when you’re not acting like a twelve year old.”

“Fine by me,” I grunted as I gathered my things. “You’re the one acting like a child, for the record.”

“It’s childish to point out that someone else is being childish, so there.”

“Are you serious right now?” Laughter itched at the back of my throat, but I was way too pissed to even think the situation was remotely funny.

“Serious as Oprah at a car dealership, sweetheart.”

“What the hell does that even mean? Go wait outside before I decide to leave you here while I pay.”

Shoving a crumbled wad of bills into my hand she sighed dramatically and stormed away. I was more than aware of the stares I received as I walked up to the front with our separate tickets. My head throbbed with a tension headache, and the attention was only making it worse. My wolf was riled, and I couldn’t get her to settle. Not even thoughts of Tucker made her better. She whined and clawed because he wasn’t there and his scent was wearing off of my skin. That had been enough to placate her for a few days, but she was tearing me apart just as much as his absence was.

I left a large tip to try to make up for the embarrassing scene, thanked the woman behind the register, and braced myself for the chilly January afternoon. Kate was leaning against the building with her hands stuffed in her puffy jacket. The second she spotted me, she sighed and stalked down the street to our parking spot.

The drive out of the metropolis of the city and to our duplex took less than fifteen minutes, even with a little bit of traffic, but they were fifteen minutes of awkward hell. I needed the window down to ease my wolf, but every time I tried to roll it down Kate complained she was cold and fiddled with the heat. I told her I wanted silence and she plugged her phone up to my speaker and started playing music. Drunk Kate was usually fun. Drunk
and
pissed Kate was a mess that I didn’t want to deal with.

Despite my feelings for the situation, I still made sure she got inside her place okay and locked up after me. I was determined to go out and find some new pieces to work on, so I made the decision to go to the antique mall alone. I checked in on Echo, letting her out for a few minutes to do her business and feel the mountain air. She was less than happy when I told her she had to go back inside, but I gave her a treat and all was forgiven.

Feeling a hell of a lot more settled than I was on my drive home, I turned on some music and sang along while I drove back into the city to the massive four story antique mall. The restored brick building was one of the oldest in the city, dating back to the late 19
th
century when it had been a hotel. There were more dealers at the mall than I knew what to do with, and I often found myself lost in the rows and collections.

I waved on my way in and started working through the displays. It had been a while since my last visit and the amount of new products was overwhelming. Typically, I was good at sticking to my budget. The profit margin on pieces always hung over my head, and as a businesswoman I couldn’t justify spending more than I knew I’d make in return on something. As I made my way through the mall I found myself wanting to break the limit I set at least a dozen times.

Nothing was overly inspirational. I found a set of three old industrial looking barstools with hairpin legs. I envisioned swapping out the rusted seat for wood or a funky fabric cover and a bright color on the legs. They were definitely worth the price, but they ate up a chunk of my budget for the day. I hooked a few old frames under my arm because they always sold well. There was a stack of pallets with wood that wasn’t completely unworkable. Pinterest made buying reclaimed wood and pallets a living hell because everybody and their mother wanted to try out some DIY project. The vendor selling them either didn’t care or wasn’t aware of the internet movement because they were priced way below average. I didn’t have enough arms to carry them, so I grabbed an employee and decided to check out for the day. I’d have my hands full for at least a few weeks.

I checked on Echo after unloading at my workshop in the garage. I didn’t allow her in there because I didn’t want her to get injured. Despite her whines, I wasn’t going to break my rule. Having an energetic pup around saws and half-finished projects was definitely not a good idea. I changed into a pair of tattered jeans and an oversized stained shirt from high school, scrubbed the makeup from my face, and threw my hair up into the messiest bun imaginable.

My workshop was relatively clean and organized. The garage came with a row of cabinets and a long counter. After a little bit of begging on my part, my landlord agreed to let me turn it into my personal work station. I was responsible for any damages and he wasn’t liable for any injuries. I didn’t make too many changes. I added a peg board and brought in a heavy duty open shelf. My equipment was neatly arranged in one corner, a fine layer of sawdust covering everything in a four foot radius. I kept all my paints and crafting supplies in the overhead cabinets by the work station. Loosely separated into piles, my projects were scattered about. The second bedroom in the house acted as my office and staging room. I had a corner of the room – the one with the best natural light – draped with fabrics so I could photograph my final products before they went up on the website. It kept everything clean and tidy, and most importantly, professional looking.