Forever Fated Mates: A Shifter Romance Collection Page 35

  So, that left me with one real solution. Going after the leader had to be it if there wasn’t much hope in getting the group shut down. I’d need all the dirt I could find on Hellcat and to find something that we could use.

  My next course of research was then to find the real identity of Hellcat and see what information was available on her. I saved anything I came across that looked promising or informative and made a file on her.

  When I thought I had enough, I called Wyatt to discuss the matter. He was more than familiar with the She Devils and what trouble they got in. He’d gone on multiple calls where their activity was suspected and had arrested several of them at different times. He confirmed that Hellcat was the leader and added that Velvet was the member Roxy was hanging around with.

  “That’s very helpful,” I told him. “I found several things on her that might be questionable. Possible drug activity. Possible car theft. Possible assault. Anything sound like a lead?”

  “Send me what you found and I’ll take a look. It could all be promising if it goes somewhere.”

  “I just want something big enough that will send Hellcat away for a long time.”

  “You and me both. And maybe once Roxy sees the light, she’ll come around and you two can finally be together.”

  “I just want her to be safe and not throw her life away. That’s it. Purely as a friend and co-worker.”

  Wyatt laughed. “Keep telling yourself that, man.”

  10

  Roxy

  On Saturday, I had still been undecided. I got home Friday night and immediately packed a bag. I’d have to make a scouting trip to my new location, then come back for the rest of my stuff and to close things up before taking off.

  But by the time I’d made up my mind on where I wanted to go, I changed it again. After settling on three different destinations for my relocation, I decided it was too late to go at all and went to bed instead.

  In the morning, I looked at my packed bag and Alex came to my mind. My determination faded and the only thing I decided on was to make coffee and eggs. I considered my options again as I ate. I could go anywhere in the whole country. The whole world, really. So, why did I want to stay right there in Big Bend the most?

  Didn’t it make more sense for me to get away from everything? Figure myself out first and then decide on something more permanent? As Saturday morning became Saturday afternoon, I decided to stay one more night; to really sleep on it.

  But Sunday morning, I took one look at my bag and knew. Dragging it back to my bedroom, I put everything away. I was looking forward to tomorrow; to seeing Alex again.

  I growled in frustration. Why did he have that hold on me? I’d fought it for so long, but after Friday night, I couldn’t deny my real feelings any longer. Denying them only made them stronger, apparently. But my whole body seemed to know it because I woke up early on Monday morning and couldn’t fall back asleep.

  I decided to head into work early, needing to make myself look good after being gone for so long. What would my excuse be? I came up with several by the time I walked into the wolf Ranger station. Lucky for me, Toby wasn’t even there. I clocked in, made sure to say hi to a few coworkers so I knew they saw me, then headed back out.

  I tried to ride slowly, but I found myself shifting gears, wishing the drive wasn’t so long. When I pulled up, my heart leapt when I saw Alex’s car. I should have known he’d be there early, too.

  I walked in with my usual strut, but somehow, felt less confident than usual. When I saw Alex sitting at his desk, I gulped.

  He looked up before I could say a word, a smile spreading over his face. “You made it after all.”

  I held my arms out. “Here I am. Was questionable for a minute, there, but here I am.” Sitting down, I rolled my chair over to him.

  “Why was it questionable? Out partying all weekend again?”

  “No. Like I said, I needed to be alone. That meant from everyone.”

  “Has your clan heard from you?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” I rolled my eyes. “Just long enough to get a lecture and then I bounced. I can’t hear all that right now.”

  “How are you, really? Was it those guys at the bar? That’s why you needed to be alone?”

  “Not just that. It started as that. I don’t know, I was just thinking through a lot this weekend.”

  “Did you by any chance decide that the biker life was not for you?”

  “If I wanted more lectures, I’d go hang out with my clan.”

  “Okay, then.” He held up his hands in surrender. “But would you be interested in hearing stats instead?”

  “What kind of stats?”

  He pulled out a stack several pieces of paper thick. “I ran the numbers on MCs to see what similarities popped up. There was a lot of data to work with, actually, because as you know, biker gangs commit lots of crimes.” He flipped through several pages and then stopped. “Here it is.”

  He set the paper down so that I could see it, but the jumble of numbers and letters meant nothing to me.

  He pointed to one of the columns. “According to my data, if you stay in a motorcycle club for ten years, within that time, you’ll be arrested five to eight times, serve two to six years in jail, and be shot at twice.”

  I rolled my eyes and snatched the papers from him. “Why do you do this? Why do you take all these numbers and try to figure everything out all the time?”

  “So that I know what to expect and how to go about certain things. Data is knowledge and knowledge is power.”

  “The only power you have is the power to make me fall asleep. Why are you into such boring things?”

  He snatched the page back from me. “Didn’t even make it an hour without your first insult. Nice.”

  “You sit here and tell me all the things that will happen to me, supposedly, if I hang out with the She Devils, but I’m the one who’s judgmental? It’s like you’ve dedicated your whole life to controlling mine.”

  “That’s not what I’m trying to do. I just want you to see what your actions will bring you.”

  I stood up. “I don’t care how many numbers you have, my life is not a statistic for you to figure out.”

  “Just sit down.” He shook his head. “There is an 80 percent probability that all those things will happen as I’ve predicted.”

  I sat, but let my expression fall into a glare. “Then there’s a 20 percent chance that it won’t.”

  “These ladies, who you barely know, are really so important to you that you’d take a 20 percent risk that you’ll be shot at? Twice?”

  I crossed my arms and leaned back. I didn’t know what to think or what to say. How accurate could he be with all his numbers? I didn’t have anything to compare to see if he was full of it or not.

  The thing was, I wasn’t willing to take a 20 percent chance that I’d be shot. Twice. I liked the thrill and I liked being a rebel; I even liked breaking the law sometimes. But little laws. Nothing that would require serious jail time. I didn’t like the sound of that, either. I wanted to have some fun, but I didn’t want to pay for it forever.

  If he was right, it did scare me a little. But I had no way to know if he was right or if it was just another trick to get me to ditch my friends.

  “I think I get it now,” I told him. “I finally see what the problem is.”

  His eyes grew wide. “You do?”

  “Yep. You’re jealous.”

  “What?”

  “That I have badass friends and you don’t. You’re jealous that they get my attention.”

  His face reddened and he stumbled over his words. “That’s just—just not true. I have badass friends.”

  “That sounded like the lamest protest ever.”

  “You know what? Fine. Whatever.” He tossed the papers aside and turned away from me. “Do what you want. I’m done trying to help you or look out for you.”

  “Finally. Thank you.” My mind went back to Friday night. If he’d listened a
nd stayed away, who knows what might have happened.

  “Are we actually going to do any work?” he asked. “Or do you need another day to recover?”

  The door to the station opened and a young woman walked in, carrying an armful of red flyers.

  “Saved by the bell,” I muttered.

  Alex got to his feet and greeted the woman. After a brief explanation, he took the flyers from her and set them on the counter with the other flyers for local events. The woman thanked him and left.

  “What’s she advertising?” I went to look over his shoulder. “Oh! The chili contest!” I picked up a flyer to look at it more closely.

  “Chili contest?” Alex asked skeptically.

  “We do live in Texas, hello. Of course I’m into chili. Especially this contest. It’s my year, I can feel it.”

  “Your year for what?”

  “To win of course.” I folded the flyer and tucked it into my pocket. “Do you enter?”

  “I’ve never been to the contest.”

  “What! And how long have you lived in Big Bend?” I shook my finger at him. “You have to come. I’ll need your vote.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll come for no other reason than to see you doing something so normal as cooking chili for a local contest.”

  I made a face at him. “Once you taste it, you won’t be making fun of me.”

  “That’s a big promise.” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Then you’ll just have to come and see for yourself.”

  “Count me in.”

  11

  Alex

  Every time I thought I was getting somewhere with Roxy, things ended with us arguing again. And that fact alone was what had convinced me she was not my true mate. It had to be some other kind of strange attraction that made me so insane around her.

  My clan hadn’t been much help in the matter. Whenever I told them of my latest issues with Roxy, I heard things like, “Lovers’ quarrel again,” or “Will you two just kiss and make up already?” They didn’t understand how much she drove me crazy—and not in a good way.

  At work, we had managed to be at least more civil. We had started working on the trail in small parts at a time, making sure as many demands were being met as possible. But we hadn’t gotten too far, and we were behind the other teams working on different areas of the trail.

  That day, I planned to talk to her about the pavilion she’d listed as a demand. She had pointed out a perfect place to build one, but I didn’t think it was quite in the budget. I had, however, discovered an old pavilion that needed a little work and wasn’t in use much, but was close to the trail. I thought fixing it up and taking the trail by it would make more sense than building a new one. All I had to do was convince her that was the best option.

  When Roxy finally strolled in, almost an hour late, she was grinning, carrying a glass dish with a lid.

  “Didn’t think you were going to show today,” I said.

  “And miss out on spending the whole day with you?” She gave me a smile that had to be sarcastic.

  “I have something to discuss with you, so if you could let me know when you’re ready to work, that’d be great.”

  “Soon, soon. First, you have to taste this.” She peeled back the lid of the container.

  The scent of hot chili filled the air and, even though I’d eaten a full breakfast, my stomach rumbled in longing. My mouth was already watering.

  “I thought the contest was this weekend,” I said.

  “It is. I wanted to practice and make sure I have it perfected.” She took a spoon from her pocket and handed it to me.

  I took it and scooped up a bite, pausing to blow on it before sliding it into my mouth. I moved it around for a moment, sampling all the of tastes and the full flavor before swallowing it, then went back for another bite so I had a consistent assessment.

  “Well?” Roxy asked impatiently.

  I nodded thoughtfully. “Well, it’s nice and flavorful, spicy but not too hot. It’s good.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That doesn’t sound like contest-winning approval.”

  I pulled my mouth to the side in thought. When I couldn’t picture the flavor profile of her chili in my mind, I took another bite. After a few more tastes, I thought I put my finger on the problem.

  “How much Worcestershire sauce do you use?” I asked.

  “None.”

  “Maybe try a few teaspoons. That would take it from very good to amazing.”

  “Now it’s very good?”

  I nodded. “It is. I like it a lot.”

  “But you think it needs Worcestershire sauce.”

  “If you want to cross over to award-winning, yes.”

  She crossed her arms. “Have you ever even made chili? What do you even know about it?”

  “I’ve made some, sure. I’ve eaten lots.” I lifted a shoulder. “I’m not saying I’m an expert. Try it and see what it does.”

  “Oh, okay. So, you’re not an expert, but I should change my entire recipe on your suggestion?”

  “No, don’t change the entire thing. It’s almost perfect.”

  She laughed. “Man, are you trying to dig yourself out of a hole or what? First it was good, then very good, now it’s near perfection.”

  “Just try it and see what happens.”

  “Why should I? Maybe adding Worcestershire sauce will be the thing that makes me lose.”

  “Well,” I said, “have you ever won?”

  She glared at me. “Not yet. But I will.”

  “Okay, then. If you’ve never won, then maybe there’s a reason. Maybe you should just trust me and try it.”

  She let her hands fall to her sides. “Do you get off on control? Is that it? You want to tell me what to do in every area of my life? Come to work earlier, don’t hang out with my friends, put Worcestershire sauce in my chili. What’s next? Want to tell me how to dress? Nevermind. Don’t answer that. Based on your clothing choices, you probably think I dress terribly. Well, guess what. I have way more fashion sense than you, and I can tell you, you’re the one who is clueless there.”

  “I never said a word about your clothing.”

  “But you wanted to, right?”

  I looked over her uniform. It wasn’t the neatest uniform ever, but there was nothing wrong with it. “You look fine to me.”

  “Oh sure, at work. But what about what I wore at the bar the other night?”

  I thought back, but couldn’t recall anything other than her looking hot. “I don’t remember what you were wearing.”

  She flopped down in a chair and put her feet on the desk.

  I glanced sideways at her. “Are you trying to get me to say something?”

  “Nope. But I know that you will.”

  I shook my head. “Can we talk about the trail now?”

  “Fine. What?”

  I rolled over to where our most recent plan was tacked up on the wall. “You wanted a pavilion. But it’s not in the budget.”

  “Of course not.”

  “But”—I looked at her sharply—“I found a solution that will still get you a meeting place.”

  “What?”

  I tapped on the location of the run-down pavilion, marked with a small blue dot. “There is an older pavilion right here. It’s been shut down because it’s not safe, but—”

  “What the hell? But we’re supposed to use it?”

  “Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me, I was going to say that it’s not safe, but all it needs is a new center beam and some paint and minor work. I think that if we wanted to divert the trail just a little, we could have it run near the pavilion—maybe not right beside it for privacy reasons—but I think getting the funds to repair the pavilion is much more likely than trying to get the funds to build a new one.”

  She looked the map over and then at the photos I’d taken of the pavilion when I went with Sawyer to inspect it the day before.

  “Okay,” she said after several minutes.

  “O
kay?”

  She nodded. “I like it.”

  My eyes widened. “I think we just agreed on something.”

  “Quick, let’s find something to argue about. Um, what’s your favorite type of music?”

  I hated to admit it, and I knew it would mean an explanation. I sighed. “Metal and classical.”

  She looked at me with confusion. “How is that possible?”

  “It’s pretty simple. I like things orderly and precise. Classical music fits that better than any other type of music. It’s very intricate and meticulous.”

  “Yeah, yeah, that was the part that made sense. But metal? How in the world does someone like you listen to metal?”

  “That’s simple, too. Sometimes I need to let go of that control and feel primitive. I mean, I am a bear shifter. I have my animalistic, dominant, barbaric side.”

  Her mouth hung open in shock. “I cannot picture you in a dominant or barbaric role. And animalistic? I guess I saw that, but…”

  I waited, and when she didn’t answer, I asked, “So only bikers can like metal and be barbaric?”

  “Well, I guess not.”

  “You really don’t know me very well,” I warned. “But I think you’ve made a lot of assumptions about me.”

  “I could say the same thing,” she said, but with a gentle tone. “Maybe we’ve both been very wrong about each other.”

  I held her gaze and ignored the racing in my heart. I wanted to be wrong about her. I wanted her to be right for me. To be perfect for me, but I just couldn’t see it.

  12

  Alex

  I drove to Roxy’s apartment building, feeling extremely nervous. It was the closest we’d ever come to being on a date, and it felt very much like one. I’d had to mentally prepare myself to be around her outside of work, where it was easier to control myself. I wore my Ranger uniform and kept the mindset of a Ranger there, but out in the world, as myself, I wasn’t sure what might happen around her. If the night at the bar had been any indication, I may not have as much control over myself as I’d like.