Two Minutes (Seven Series Book 6) (28 page)

I gripped his arm. “Please. Isn’t there anything you can do?” My voice trembled, and hope faded with each passing minute.

He patted my hand. “Sorry, honey. I need to have a chat with your Packmaster.”

When he joined Austin, I hustled to the truck where Denver was. A cool breeze chilled my arms and I shivered. I’d worn a pretty dress made of a soft green material that went halfway to my knees. It was sleeveless and didn’t provide enough of a barrier between me and the cool night air.

“Mix the hot sauce in with the red sauce,” Denver said, finishing a thought.

The man scratched his ear. “Why not hot peppers on top?”

Denver snorted. “You don’t get an even distribution on the pizza. So every other bite, your mouth is on fire. Mix it in the sauce and you can control the heat.”

I glared at Denver, in complete disbelief. “I thought he was questioning you.”

He smirked. “He is, honeypie. The interrogation is over, and we’re hungry.”

“So you’re going to order a pizza?”

He laughed and seized my wrists. “Come here, Peanut.” He tugged me forward and wrapped his arms around me. “You’re cold,” he murmured against my hair. “You should have told me you were cold and I would have kept you warm.”

I melted against him, relishing the heat from his chest, feeling his heart beating against my ear.

“You two should think about mating,” the man suggested, lowering his voice. “If they seek the death penalty, they might be lenient if you have a mate to care for.”

My knees weakened and Denver held me up. “Give us a minute,” he growled at the man, his words resonating in his chest and vibrating against my ear.

I wept, a tear slipping down my nose. “It isn’t fair.”

“It’s the law,” he said, soothing me.

But that wasn’t what I meant. It wasn’t fair to fall in love only to have it ripped away. I’d finally come back home and figured out what I wanted, and now everything was falling apart all around me.

“Shhh. Don’t cry,” he whispered. “Someday you’ll find a man who treats you like a princess—someone who deserves you. You’ll forget all about Denny. You don’t want a guy who likes to walk around barefoot and eat food out of a can, do you?”

I laughed through my tears. “How can you make a joke at a time like this?”

He let go and threaded my hair back. “Because that’s what I do best. It’s the only way I get to see those pretty dimples. Smile for me, Maizy. I want to remember you that way, not crying.”

My lip quivered. “I can’t. Nothing’s funny.”

“Did I ever tell you about the time I went out with Wheeler and got trashed? I woke up with a tattoo of Donald Duck on my ass. And I’m not talking about a little one,” he said, holding his fingers six inches apart. “It covered my entire left cheek. I ran stark naked down the hall, ready to toss him out the window. By then, half the house had seen it.”

A smile touched my lips.

“So they all started talking to me in that Donald Duck voice. I ran outside and shifted, I was so pissed off.”

“It wasn’t sealed with liquid fire, was it?”

“Amen. That was the last time I went out drinking with Wheeler alone.”

“Why? Sounds like you need to get a little revenge. He’s due for another tattoo; maybe a sexy pose of Hello Kitty?”

When a laugh burst out of his mouth, it made me join in.

“There they are,” he said, pressing my dimples with his thumbs. “I don’t want you to worry about a damn thing. Austin’s gonna look after you. Maybe they’ll let me have a few personal things from home. If so, I want you to be the one who packs my bag. You know the stuff I like, my favorite clothes, that kind of thing. Don’t let Jerko be in charge of that. Promise?”

I reached up and traced my finger along the scar on his forehead. Then I outlined his ear, as if memorizing everything about him through touch. His hair had always been a darker shade of blond than mine—attractive on a man—with rich coloring at the roots. His eyes were deeper, and it’s as if everything about him was darker than I was by a degree, even his wounded heart.

“Time to head out,” the older Councilman announced. “You ’bout ready?”

Austin approached and I stepped out of the way. He cupped his hands around Denver’s neck and spoke, his voice steady. “You hang in there. I’m going to find a way out of this. You’re my brother, and I don’t leave my pack behind. Just behave yourself and don’t make it any harder for me.”

Denver huffed out an emotionless laugh, his eyes vacant. “Don’t worry about me, Aus. Just keep an eye on Maizy. She needs someone to look out for her. Promise me.”

“You got my word.” Austin ruffled up his hair and stepped back. “Come on.”

Austin held a private conversation with Denver as they walked to the car. The two Councilmen followed behind at a distance, giving the Packmaster a chance to advise his packmate.

It was the first time I’d ever truly felt alone. Even with all the miles spaced between me and my family during my formative years, I’d always felt the connection to home. There was a security in knowing that no matter what I was doing, time stood still for the Weston pack and they were carrying on as usual. The only other time I’d felt an absence was when Ben left. He wasn’t in a good place to be part of a pack and needed to get his life together before he could mend old wounds. But Denver, he was the heart of the family. At least, he always was to me.

Before Denver got in the car, he looked back and pointed at his cheeks with his index fingers. I smiled for him. I smiled so he could always remember me this way, no matter what happened. I smiled because I’d loved him my entire life, realizing how that love could blossom into something wondrous. But as the car drove into the black night, carrying my heart away, my smile withered.

The next morning, I slept in with the bedroom door closed.

A knock sounded and I blinked at the wall. I’d been staring at it for the past half hour, trying to find images in the tiny raised patterns, in a futile attempt to distract myself from the fact Denver was in jail.

“Hey,” Melody said, closing the door behind her. “I just wanted to see if you were feeling okay.” She sat down behind me and I could hear her playing with the beads on her elastic bracelet. “Everyone’s worried about you, but they don’t want to come up here and bug you.”

I smiled. “So you took one for the team?”

“Am I bugging you?”

I rolled over on my left side to face her. “No, Mel. You’re not bugging me.”

Her razor-cut hair touched her shoulder and I reached up to feel it.

“Think I need to dye it?” she asked. “My mom said she doesn’t care, but I’m not allowed to get tattoos or pierce anything. Usually I just lighten a few strands, but I’m thinking of blue.”

“I think you could make any color in the rainbow work. No matter what you do to decorate yourself, you’re a natural beauty, Mel. I hope you know that.”

She shrugged. “Did you bring any sneakers? If you want, I can customize them. No charge.”

I smiled wide and rubbed my eyes. Mel was doing what any fourteen-year-old would do to make someone feel better. Distraction. “They’re in the closet. And charge me. I may not be able to pay you right away, but maybe we can do a trade.”

“Bartering? Awesome!” She hopped off the bed and flung open the closet door with the vigor of someone who knew exactly what they wanted. “You have a few things in here that I bet don’t fit you anymore,” she suggested delicately.

I put my feet on the floor and yawned. “I guess my mom saved some of that stuff after all. Go ahead and pick something out and it’s all yours.”

“I know
exactly
what I want,” she said, leading me to believe she’d memorized the entire wardrobe I’d left behind, waiting for the day it could be hers. “Is this okay?” She held up a long black scarf with a few strands of silver woven in. “I think I could do something really neat with it.”

“All yours,” I said, feeling sullen. My eyes were swollen from crying, and I hated that morning-after feeling. It was what I imagined going through a funeral was like—something I’d never had to experience since I’d grown up with Shifters.

“You sure liked fairy tales,” she said absently. “Lots of princess stuff in here. Do you believe in all that?” Melody closed the door and wrapped the scarf around her neck three times.

“Not so much,” I admitted. “Not all endings are happy.”

She turned her mouth to the side. “Yeah. You gotta save yourself. It seems kind of dumb to think you’re going to be rescued by a prince from all your woes.” She dramatically put the back of her hand across her forehead and batted her eyelashes before leaving the room.

Something she said clicked. I leapt out of bed and slipped on my jean shorts, then pulled on an old T-shirt. It was one Denver had given me with a blond-haired cartoon boy on the front. It used to say Dennis the Menace, but Denver had crossed out Dennis and wrote
Denny
with a permanent black marker.

I put on a pair of flip-flops and hurried to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get myself together. Within five minutes, someone was already knocking on the door.

“I gotta go!” they shouted. “My pipe’s about to burst.”

I swung the door open and William blushed.

“Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to be so vulgar. Take your time.”

“I’m done. She’s
all
yours.” I raced around him toward the stairs.

“Where are you off to?” he asked, his voice growing distant as I hurried down the stairs.

“Holy shit. It sounds like a horse race with all that clippity-clopping,” Trevor yelled out with a chuckle. He peered at me from the back of the leather sofa, his hair mostly obscuring his eyes. “What’s the emergency? Austin told us to stay put until he got back from the jail.”

I held the keys to Denver’s truck in my hand and searched the room for my purse. I remembered tossing it in the chair when I’d returned home the night before.

No time
.

“Hey, wait a second.” Trevor flew off the couch and stalked toward me with frightening speed. He slammed his palm against the front door and leaned on it. “Didn’t you hear me?”

“Trev, I need to see someone, and I don’t have time to wait for Austin’s permission.”

“That’s how it works in a pack, Maze. When the Packmaster gives the orders, you obey them. He’s not your dad, and this isn’t a dorm where you can sneak out and go to a party. Insubordination can get you kicked out.”

I laughed. “Do you think I care? If it means saving Denver, I don’t give a flip if Austin bans me from the state of Texas. Now move out of my way.”

“What’s going on in here?” Wheeler asked from the hall that led to the kitchen.

“See?” I said quietly to Trevor. “Now the whole house is going to intervene. You can’t control my life.”

“I’m not controlling it; I’m saving it.”

He brushed his bangs away from his face and looked down at me. He didn’t stand as tall as most of the other men in the house, but he’d always seemed tall to me. He had the kind of face and sexy lips that women often fantasized about. But nothing was handsome about the way he was scrutinizing me with pity.

Trevor averted his eyes. “I’ve gotten enough people in trouble. Can’t you see this is my fault?”

Wheeler eased up beside us. “Lovers’ quarrel?” But his eyes were on the keys in my hand.

“Trevor, this isn’t a blame game,” I said. “You spoke up for yourself, but this doesn’t have anything to do with you anymore. Bromus threatened
me
.”

“Yeah, and that shit pisses me off. But don’t you get it? He wouldn’t have said a word to you had it not been for Aaron. And all that’s because of me.”

Wheeler sighed audibly. “When you two ladies are done with the self-reproach, I’d like to get this show on the road.”

I glanced up at him in surprise.

Wheeler winked with a straight face, rogue whiskers shadowing his jaw. “That’s right. If you want to go out, then we’re not going to stop you. But under the circumstances, we’ve got a pissed-off pack hot on our ass. Austin would be hella pissed if something happened to you because we let you go alone. Denver’s not here to protect you, so that sorta leaves us misfits to do the job.”

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

Wheeler put his arm around me and reached to open the door. “Sweetheart, I was born in trouble.”

I drove Denver’s old yellow truck, and Wheeler rode shotgun. Once we reached the main road, he called Reno to let him know what we were up to. I could hear Reno shouting through the phone, but Wheeler would have been in more trouble had he not called at all. When I asked why he was going along with this, he said sometimes you’ve got to break rules where love is concerned. If I believed there was something I could do to help Denver, then he was on board with the plan.

When we reached the gates of Prince’s mansion, I poked my head out the window and scalded the guard with my gaze. The gates immediately opened and he lowered his eyes submissively as we passed. It made me wonder about the kind of power Prince had over his pack, and that was a frightening thought.

“You’re going to have to stay in the truck,” I said. “He’s not going to let you inside.”

Wheeler rubbed his tattooed arm as if brushing off a chill. “Hate to break the news, but I’m your bestie today.”

I glanced at his attire. “You look like you’re going on a mission to assassinate people.”

“Something wrong with all black?”

“Why didn’t you just wear the white shirt and jeans you had on?”

He smirked and scratched the bristles of his short beard. “I like to dress appropriate for the occasion.”

“My funeral?”

I opened the door and we got out. This time I parked up front and not at the side of the house as before. Prince wasn’t expecting me, and I had a feeling the guard hadn’t called him to announce my visit.

Wheeler stared at the door, specifically the brass knocker depicting a fierce wolf with a ring between his sharp teeth. “Mayhap we should stay outside.”

“Why?”

“You lose the upper hand when you enter a man’s home.”

I pushed the doorbell. “Do you guys just sit around making up these ridiculous rules? Like changing into those black jeans and boots? I’m surprised you didn’t borrow Reno’s gun.”

His brow arched. “The thought crossed my mind.”

When the door opened, Wheeler suddenly stepped in front of me.

“I don’t know you,” the man in the pinstripe suit and a fedora said. He might have passed for a gangster if it weren’t for the fact he looked fifty.

Wheeler folded his arms. “Looks like you also don’t know we’re in the twenty-first century. Where’s your liege?”

“My what?”

I stepped into view. “Is Prince here? Tell him it’s Maizy. He knows who I am.”

He gave me a skeptical appraisal. Maybe Prince didn’t entertain many women who wore cutoff jean shorts and flip-flops, but I’d been in too much of a hurry to dwell on my attire. The man’s eyes were transfixed on my lavender toenails, which April had painted for our night out. They had little adhesive sparkles on them.

Wheeler inched forward. “I think you need to take your beady little eyes off my packmate and get your boss before I show you a close-up of what the bottom of my boot looks like. ’Preciate ya.”

When he turned away, I nudged Wheeler. “Why do you have to be so rude?”

He curved his arm around me. “That’s not rude, sweetheart. You’ve been away too damn long. We don’t live by all the niceties that humans do. Everyone is a potential threat, and most people are a potential dick.”

I peered up at him. “That’s a lovely outlook on the world.”

“Just the facts.”

Prince approached with a quick stride from the rotunda in the center of the house. “I apologize for my delay,” he said in a hurried breath. “I wasn’t made aware of your arrival; I should have been notified you were on the property.” He inclined his head at Wheeler. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“No,” I said, nervously tugging at the strings hanging from the end of my shorts. He probably thought I wore the same clothes every day when I actually had three pairs of shorts that looked alike. It made me wish I had put on something nicer for this meeting. “I need to speak to you alone.”

This wasn’t a man who lounged around his house in his sweatpants. Prince probably wore silk pajamas to bed and dressed before dawn. I’d caught him off guard, so he didn’t have a suit jacket on, only a dark grey button-up with matching slacks and a black belt. His silk shirt had two buttons undone at the top, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone.

“Would your friend prefer to wait out here?”

A muscle clenched in Wheeler’s jaw. “Her friend is standing right here, so why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Prince didn’t apologize. “There are comfortable chairs in here, or I can have someone show you to the kitchen.”

Wolves liked to offer each other food as a show of hospitality. I respectfully didn’t answer for Wheeler.

After a brief pause, Wheeler glanced around the room. “Think I’ll hang out in here while you talk. I’m curious what life is like for those who live high on the hog.”

I wanted to do a facepalm, but I maintained my composure and followed Prince. His hair was shiny and pulled into a ponytail. It made me wonder what it looked like free and loose around his shoulders. Did he pull it back so people could see his regal features and handsome jawline? It certainly brought all the attention to his face, but it seemed like such an odd thing for a man in his position to wear. I expected rebellious men like Jericho to have long hair—not wealthy, prominent Packmasters who were older than dirt.

My shoes slapped against his marble floor, echoing through the house.

“We’ll have privacy in here,” he said, opening a door.

The first thing that hit me was the pleasant aroma. It was something I’d noticed before, but Prince had different scents in every room. Sometimes it was just the smell of wood, but I’d picked up a strong fragrance of roses on my last visit. This room smelled of another familiar flower I couldn’t place, and I kept drawing in deep breaths.

He smiled while closing the door, as if realizing what I was doing. This room was dramatically different than the last I’d been in. It dripped money.

“You spare no expense,” I said in a soft breath.

The paneled walls were white and the ceiling high. Track lighting ran along the outer edges, and hanging from the center was a beautiful crystal chandelier. The marble floor was gold in color, and a tremendous white rug covered the center of the room.

Prince strolled ahead of me toward one of the gold tables along the outer edge. They were antique with intricate designs on the top and front. Even the candelabrum was a golden hue. My mind wanted to say brass, but with his money, anything was possible.