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Deadly Crush

Page 7

Dominic stood still, waiting for them to settle, and as I watched him, I was certain that this was not the first time he had made this announcement. He waited patiently, playing his role of my beta perfectly. And right then, I got the feeling that Tammy may not have been the first alpha female Ray had had. Dominic seemed … practiced. Sure of himself, and what needed to be said.

“Ray’s death has not, and will not be leaked,” Dominic said, belting out the words so loudly it was as if he had a microphone. “As you know, Tammy has left us, and with her gone, a new alpha female must rise up. So tonight not only marks the night of a new alpha male for our pack, but it also marks the start of the games for a new alpha female.”

Hoots and hollers rang out through the night, and Dominic smiled, patiently waiting for them to die down before continuing, “Once the alpha pair has been established, we will let the news travel. You all need to be vigilant with your patrols. If any of you pick up the scent of Bruce’s pack, we need to know immediately. He can’t know that the females don’t have a leader.”

“You sound pretty cocky there, Dominic,” someone shouted. “Last I checked, you lose your status when a new alpha male takes over.”

Dominic laughed, a cruel sound. “You want to fight me for it, Joe?” Everything about him was relaxed as he spoke, his shoulders loose, his smile easy. He waited for a moment before another laugh fell out and he said, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Then he turned to me and said, “You want to settle this, Aidan? Are you going to appoint a new beta?”

The pack erupted in a mess of noise. “Enough!” I yelled over the chaos. “Dominic will remain as my beta.” I paused, waiting for any objections, but when none came, I said, “Let the games begin.”

CHAPTER 7

~ JADE ~

I woke up feeling gross and greasy. The KFC had been delicious going down, but I wasn’t used to eating that much grease at once, and it really wasn’t sitting well at all.

Last night had been … weird. Dad hadn’t come home. Mom said he was having a boy’s weekend, and there was nothing to worry about, but the whole fact that she said that there was nothing to worry about, had me kind of worried. And it had been clear that I wasn’t the only one. Mom had been hyperaware of every bump and thump. At one point, I had shifted on the couch, making the leather squeak beneath me, and she had jumped, tossing a full bowl of popcorn all over the floor.

Mom was never jumpy. She took everything in stride and even when she was nervous, she always hid it well. It was a survival technique, one that I used frequently while dealing with the oddities of our town. But last night, she had been a nervous wreck.

Rolling over in bed, I looked out the big bay window. The sky looked as if a dirty ball of wool had been unraveled, covered in clouds. I couldn’t say how long I had lain there watching the little rivers of rain slide down my window, when my door squeaked open and Mom peeked around it. “Honey, you need to get up.”

“It’s Saturday, Mom,” I said with a groan, and rolled over.

Mom pursed her lips, pushed the door wide open, and flicked the light switch on. The pot lights seemed overly bright against the dreary day outside. “You have company,” she said evenly.

“Mac’s not company,” I groaned. “She’s been a permanent fixture here for a year now.” Since her mother took off last year, Marcy had pretty much moved into our house, and my mom had unofficially adopted her into our family. The only time she went home now, was when her father forced her, or rather, when he begged her. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend time with her dad, it was more that he was never home, always working, and Marcy wasn’t really a solitude kind of person. She needed people, noise, and action.

I rolled up on my elbows, and scrunched my forehead, as my sleepy brain tried to process why I needed to get up. I guess I took too long, because she marched into the room, shooting me one of those stern mom kind of looks.

“I’m not talking about Mac,” she said with her hands on her hips, scowling down at me. “Get up. He’s waiting for you.”

“What?” I asked, squinting at her. “Who’s ‘he?’” I scrubbed my eyes, wiping the sleep from them, and yawned loudly.

Mom looked more put together today, not as jittery that was for sure. She had her dark brown hair tied up in a loose bun, and she was dressed in a long, simple black knit dress. It hung on her slim figure loosely. She arched a brow and a small, devious looking smile curled her lips. “Dominic’s downstairs.”

“You let him in the house?” I hissed, and sat up with a start. I fought against my comforter, which was wrapped around my legs like a cocoon. “What’s wrong with you?”

As soon as I said it, I heard his rumbling chuckle. Darn those dogs and their impeccable hearing! I glared at the door, and gritted my teeth.

“Of course I let him in. He’s been your best friend since you were a baby,” she said hastily and a bit too loudly, as if she was trying to make sure he heard her reprimand me. “He stopped by to drop off your backpack and he wants to talk to you.” She walked over to my bed, flung the covers back, and glared down at me with her hands on her hips. “Now get up. I’m going out.”

I gritted my teeth. My backpack, I thought, completely annoyed at myself for forgetting about it yesterday. I thought of about a million reasons as to why I didn’t want to talk to him, or why I wasn’t going to get out of bed, but each one sounded like a child throwing a tantrum. “Where are you going?” I asked instead. Heat settled in my cheeks, and my jaw was starting to ache from clenching it so tightly.

“Shopping,” she said, not unkindly but with an unmistakable edge, and then she grabbed hold of my feet and started to pull, dragging me off my bed. “Now get in the shower and make yourself presentable,” she said.

Mom didn’t leave my room until she watched me walk into the bathroom, and knowing her, she probably stood there until she heard the shower turn on. I couldn’t believe she was still pushing her little dream on me. It was the only reason I could think of as to why she was going to leave the house with me in the shower, and Dominic sitting just downstairs. Well, okay, maybe it wasn’t the only reason. My parents knew he was gay, but still, they wanted nothing more than for me to date a werewolf, and pushing me toward Dominic would push me toward the straight ones. Twisted, right? They wanted their only daughter to hook up with an animal — literally.

I took my time in the shower, and even longer blow-drying my hair. I was kind of hoping that if I stalled long enough he’d just go away. I spent ten minutes staring into my closet, before I finally decided on a pair of jeans and a powder blue T-shirt, and then, since I couldn’t think of any other way to prolong the process further, I went to see what he wanted.

Dominic was lounging in my dad’s recliner, and when I spotted him, I almost forgot how much I didn’t want to see him. He looked … good. Really good. His short blond hair was gelled, with the front flipped up. He was in jeans and a light blue polo shirt with the collar popped up, and he was smiling, something that he rarely did anymore, and darn it, but I missed that smile. It was a lot easier to hate him when he was all jerky and serious. But right then, in that moment, if only for a second, he was my best friend again.

I stood at the top of the stairs for a moment, watching him run a finger along the stacked bookcase beside him as if he was trying to pick something to read. He looked comfortable — at home — sitting in our country-style living room, amongst the blue and green-checkered curtains, and the cherry wood floors. But then, I figured he should look comfortable, since he was the one that had made and hung the curtains, and come to think of it, I was certain he had recommended cherry wood for the floors, too. I knew he had helped install them at least.

As I padded down the stairs, trying to prepare myself for what I was sure would be a replay of yesterday, I stumbled, tripping over my own feet. I hadn’t thought he’d even noticed me coming down the stairs, but the moment I slipped, Dominic jumped out of his chair, leapt over the coffee table, and caught me just before I did a face plant on the floor.

“That was graceful,” he said, his voice oozing with sarcasm, and he helped me regain my balance. His lips twitched, and a cocky grin spread across his face.

“Wow, thanks,” I said, snatching my arm from his hand. He chuckled, and his smile grew wider. I gave him my best shut up look, and said, “And you wonder why I don’t like you. You do something slightly nice, and then you always ruin it by speaking.”

Dominic crossed his arms over his chest; they bounced softly with his shoulders, as he tried to hold in a laugh. His eyes shimmered with humor. “A simple thank you would have worked, too,” he said. “You know, you’re still so adorable when you’re all mad, scrunchy-nosed, and flushed cheeked.”

“Whatever,” I snapped, putting every bit of snark I had into my tone. “Where’s Mac?”

“She went home,” he said, and then he gave me a serious look. “Jade, I want you to stay away from Aidan.”

I laughed dryly and rolled my eyes before making my way into the kitchen. So that was what this little visit was about. The new guy. And by the look I was getting from Dominic, I’d guess it was also about a bruised ego. “And I care what you want because?”

Dominic followed me, stopping at the fridge to grab milk before moving on to the cupboard and snagging two mugs. He scooped three heaping spoonfuls of sugar in one, and added only milk to the other and then filled them both with steaming coffee. I watched him, stunned. The way he moved around the kitchen was as if he was supposed to be there, as if he had never left. Once he had finished stirring in the sugar, he slid the mug over to me, and grinned. “You still like it that way, right?”

I took the mug and drank a long, deep mouthful before looking back up at him. “What are you really doing here, Dominic?”

He stepped over to me, and tucked a few strands of loose hair behind my ear, a gesture that used to be common, but now, it just felt wrong. “I saw the way you were looking at him. He’s no good for you.” There was more emotion in his voice than I was used to. It was gentle and pleading, strong and caring. It was as if we had stepped back two years and he was still my Dom. My rock. My stabling force. My best friend. And I don’t know why, but it pissed me off. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">

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