More Than Lies
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“I can’t believe it,” I say, shaking my head as I stare at the television. “That was so wrong.” My hand goes to my mouth and I have a hard time swallowing against my suddenly dry throat. There’s nothing more painful than watching someone you care about being abused by another person.
That poor woman! I think there are some places where even an alpha should stay out of—and that club is definitely one of them. It was bad enough when I saw him beating her, but then to see him rape her… No. He doesn’t deserve to live in any pack with a lick of honor. She needs protection from all those people who’ve already proven themselves to be too weak to stop something like this from happening again.
My eyes go back to the screen just before he hits her again. I shake my head, but I hear his voice anyway: “If she gets away or you do anything stupid…” The picture changes, showing him walking toward the camera while holding what looks like a bloody knife.
Then he turns around and stabs the woman in the neck. Blood pours into the air, hitting me on the chest right over my heart. Her body slumps down onto the table, her hands clutching her throat. A tear falls from my eye to splash against my chin, burning against my skin with how cold it feels.
“He’ll pay for that,” I growl. My eyes are on the television, but I know it’s not enough to change what happened here tonight. All I can do is try to protect myself from what comes next.
I sit up on the couch and switch the channel to CNN. “It wasn’t supposed to end like this,” I say, feeling my eyes start to water again. This is so unfair. I shouldn’t have to be dealing with this crap right now. Why does the world hate me so much?
The door opens and I turn to see Jax walk inside. His eyes meet mine, and then he moves to grab the remote and switch off the television. “We should take your mother home, Alpha.”
“She’ll be okay alone?” I ask as I stand to join him.
Jax nods his head before turning away from me. “Yes, Alpha,” he says. “Your sister-wife will call when she wakes.”
I nod and walk outside with Jax after he locks the door behind us. The rain has died down, leaving the air cool and damp in its wake. The smell of rain makes the scent of blood stick in my nose, making my stomach churn.
The last thing I want is to see any more violence, especially if there’s more on the way. We make our way down the front steps of the building, cross the street and get onto the sidewalk. As we’re about to get into my truck, Jax stops me and pulls me close enough that I feel the heat coming from him.
Our arms go around each other, his fingers digging into my lower back, pulling me closer to his solid frame. For a second I’m reminded of the day when he first came to stay at the house. I had no idea who he was and yet I still took him in because of my instinct for protecting others.
He’d been hurt by the same bastard who’s just murdered his mate. Now he has a chance to kill the monster once and for all.
When he puts his face near mine, I put my forehead against his chest, letting his warm scent calm me as much as possible. But my wolf isn’t so easily calmed. She wants blood. So many times in my life, I’ve had to watch someone else die because I couldn’t save them. What kind of future could she possibly have in this mess?
“Alpha,” I hear him whisper.
There aren’t any words I can come up with. I don’t even know how to respond. So instead, I just hold him tighter until he finally lifts my chin and kisses me gently on my lips.
Then he takes me by the arm and leads me away from the house, telling me to keep moving. “Come along, Alpha,” he says over the roar of the wind blowing against us. “You need to talk to your brother.”
As I climb into the passenger side of the truck, I look up at the moon in the night sky, which is shining brightly through the thick gray clouds overhead. I don’t know why she chose to show herself like this. Maybe she’s trying to help me somehow?
Or maybe she simply wants me to know I’ll always have a friend in her if ever I need her. Whatever it is, she gives me hope, and I realize I haven’t felt this way since I left Alaska. When I looked out across the ocean, my spirit felt heavy. The people here had made me feel unwanted, but now that they need me most, I know the tides will soon change for good.
Jax pulls away from my driveway, heading toward where our family lives, while I stare up at the glowing orb above. “She’ll never give up on me, will she?” I ask, staring up into the bright light and hoping my mother sees me looking at her. That way she knows how grateful I am for everything she’s done.
“Never,” Jax answers as he looks back at me. He smiles briefly before turning back ahead, driving us in the direction of my brother’s house.
***
We pull up to the curb and stop just short of the door when I hear someone yelling for me from within the house. As we wait for the door to open, I glance down at Jax’s hand wrapped tightly around mine.
The feel of his skin under the pads of my fingers gives me a strange tingle deep within my belly. He’s strong and tough as hell, not to mention loyal, brave, and smart as a whip. All those qualities make him worthy of being my mate. It would also make him a great father someday too.
He doesn’t let go of me as he climbs out of the truck, taking a few seconds longer than necessary to unlock the doors. Then he helps me out of the vehicle, walking around the front as he unlocks the gate that keeps anyone from wandering onto our property without permission. Once inside, Jax shuts off the lights before closing the door quietly behind us.
We walk down a hallway and make our way to an office in the back, then go upstairs to the large room with the balcony overlooking the city. There’s a fire roaring in one corner of the room, while several of the chairs are turned in a circle around a low table between the two windows.
My brothers all sit together in a huddle, talking quietly among themselves, their faces illuminated only by the soft glow of the candles. As I stand near the edge of the room, my gaze goes to the small bed near the wall next to a tall bookcase, and for the first time, I notice that there’s a woman sleeping under the covers.
I can see that she’s naked, lying on top of the comforter, curled up in the fetal position. She looks to be about twenty years old, maybe younger, and she has long dark hair.
I step forward to get a better view, watching as she stirs beneath the sheets. Then she sits up slowly, rubbing her hands across her eyes before standing and glancing around. Her body language tells me right away that she’s confused. Confused and afraid.
She glances back at us, blinking as her gaze settles on my brother Rylan, who stands closest to her. “Is something wrong?” she asks softly as she walks toward him.
The look of concern that crosses Rylan’s face reminds me exactly how much I love these people. He’s always been like a father to me, so it hurts to see him like this, with worry etched deeply on his features.
“Not to worry,” Rylan replies. “It’s just Jax, here. He brought you to the house.”
When the young woman turns to me, I’m momentarily stunned by her appearance. She’s beautiful, with delicate features and big blue eyes. And her smile is warm and inviting, making me immediately feel comfortable when she approaches.
“Jax,” she whispers, reaching up and touching my cheek as her fingertips glide across the skin. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
Rylan nods quickly. “That was a bullet wound. You’re safe now though,” he adds as he steps away from her and takes a seat across the room. “We’ve already bandaged it, and Jax helped us carry you inside. We were just waiting on you to wake up so we could tell you what happened.”
“Did my father…”
My brother shakes his head. “Your dad and mother are alive and well.” He leans forward, resting both elbows on the table as he stares intently into her eyes. “Do you know who you are? Are you sure you’re not dreaming this?”
The young woman laughs gently, her expression filled with relief. “No, I swear, I don’t dream.”
Her words make me think of my own life and how much I love my job working for the FBI. I’m not going to lie. At times it’s stressful and demanding, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything, not even if I got to spend all my days playing with my kids instead.
There are many good reasons why I became a hunter—some of them selfish because they allow me to protect the ones I care about, and some because of my personal convictions regarding the things that live in the shadows of our world. But most important, it allows me to be home every night with my family and watch my kids grow up.
As much as I admire the work of hunters like Jax, it’s not for me. Not yet anyway.
But I do envy him and his kind; for being able to choose such a noble calling, and for getting the chance to experience all the wonders that our world holds. For being born to serve. It must be nice.
And now I’ll probably never get a chance to find out what it feels like…
I glance back to where the young woman sleeps in the bed and realize that my brothers are staring at me. They expect an answer, and for a moment, I hesitate to speak.
Because I have no idea how to give them any answers.
***
When the door to my apartment slides open, my heart starts pounding against my chest in panic, sending adrenaline surging through my veins. The last thing I remember is the sound of gunfire. Bullets whistled over my head, and then the deafening impact as bullets pierce flesh.
Blood seeps from multiple holes, oozing onto the floor as my body falls backward and smacks the hard tile behind me, throwing me off balance.
Blood drips down my arm, pooling under my elbow, and I look up at the man who stands above me on unsteady feet. He doesn’t look like an attacker or even the sort of person I’d expect to see in a dark alleyway at midnight. His hair is long and wavy, with thick bangs framing his face, and his features remind me of old-school Hollywood film stars.
“You shot me!” I gasp as I reach up to touch the wound. A small hole runs from the top of my shoulder blade all the way to the base of my spine. I’ve seen plenty of guns in action, but this one is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
“A little bit.” The stranger laughs as he sits next to me and props himself up on an elbow. “Now you’re just a regular person.”
“How did you—” I start to ask, before remembering that he has no idea who I am. He might not even understand me. After all, we’re speaking two different languages.
“Don’t worry about me,” he replies, reaching forward to brush a lock of hair from my forehead. “What I really need is to know whether you can hear me?”
He speaks slowly, carefully choosing his words so that I can follow along easily. He knows that I’m not familiar with his language, so he makes sure to explain everything thoroughly. “I have a friend who needs help, but he’s trapped inside something that lives in our shadows. There aren’t any people around, and I don’t know where to go, so I came to you.”
“Who’s your friend?” I try again, although I’m unsure how I should be asking questions since we aren’t using the same tongue.
“Kylie,” the man says. “His name is Kylie. She’s pretty badly hurt too, but I think she’ll heal faster than you will.”
I sit up straighter in surprise. Kylie is a good friend of mine. I haven’t seen her in years, but whenever we talked on the phone, we always made time to catch each other up. When I found out that she was pregnant with another man’s baby after being raped by his husband, I wanted to kill someone, but luckily I hadn’t actually been near either of them when it happened.
It wasn’t my business, and they had their problems to work through themselves. Besides, I didn’t want to ruin the friendship I felt we had.
That’s why it sounds so strange now, hearing those same words come from her ex-husband, who I once knew well enough to consider a best friend.
It seems surreal. And I’m beginning to feel more confused about what just happened in that alley, and why I’m lying wounded while he stands there smiling at me.
“Are you telling the truth?” I ask him in English. “Is this Kylie? Or is she some other girl you don’t know?”
The stranger shrugs. “Both. But we’re going to fix this mess, and then we’ll see.”
He looks up as the woman comes into view. She walks slowly down the hallway, carrying a large medical bag, and stops in front of us. Her eyes flicker over my wounds and her lips move as she studies me. Then her gaze darts back to his face and she nods slowly.
“She’s injured,” she tells me, “but I doubt I’ll need to use all my supplies.”
Her voice is soothing and gentle, and she reaches out to brush strands of hair off my cheek. I tense, wondering if she’s touching me because her hands are covered in blood and dirt, or if she’s trying to comfort me with something else. Because Kylie would never do such a thing, I still can’t help feeling uneasy.
“Why aren’t you wearing gloves?” I murmur.
“Do you mind if I take them off first?” she asks in response. As soon as her hands are free, she uses the edge of her shirt to clean the rest of the dried blood away.
My skin tingles when she touches me, but the prickly sensation passes quickly, and I relax again. “So you’re really Kylie’s ex-husband?” I ask quietly when the woman finally steps back, leaving her bloody fingers behind.
“Yes.” He sighs. “We weren’t married long, and we had a hard time getting on terms with each other, but we were both willing to give it a chance until he started drinking again.” His brow furrows as he shakes his head. “When we fought, I got angry and accidentally shot him with my gun.”
I frown in confusion. “But it’s only loaded with silver bullets, isn’t it?”
He looks down at his own handgun as he nods. “It is. But he must’ve had something on him—a knife, a stake … anything sharp.”
Suddenly, I remember a story Kylie used to tell me about a witch’s curse. The witch had killed Kylie’s father and made Kylie believe that he was dead. In turn, Kylie had tried to make me think that the man who had saved me was also responsible for killing my family.
We’d both known that neither of those things had been true, but we played along anyway because Kylie couldn’t bear to let go of any hope she held onto for a better future.
I guess the curse could be real. Maybe the witch had used some type of magical object against Kylie before she died. It wouldn’t explain everything, but maybe this is another layer of unbelievable.
I look down at my wrists, remembering how the demon grabbed my right hand and forced me to stab Kylie with her blade. Had it done something similar to her? Could that possibly be part of what caused her death?
“Will he be okay?” I ask the woman. “What did the monster do to him?”
As soon as I finish speaking, my stomach begins to growl loudly. It has to be hungry, considering all the pain we’ve been through, but I’m embarrassed by it because I’ve never done anything like this before. If people hear it, I’ll get teased endlessly, and it won’t be worth it.
Then the woman grins at me. “You eat when you’re hungry. You eat whenever you want to eat. I can’t imagine why it matters what anyone else thinks. It’s not their body or stomach you’re hurting with your loud noises.”
“It will keep quiet after one,” the man adds. “Trust me.”
After staring at us for another few seconds, the woman turns and disappears down the hallway. I study the door behind her until she vanishes completely, and then I notice that she left a wooden box sitting on top of a dresser near the foot of the bed.
I reach out and pick it up, feeling a little bit lighter inside. A surge of relief rushes through me, even though we have no idea where Kylie actually is, and the last thing we need is for an enemy to discover our location.
The End