Naomi and Tyler (Plenty of Shift Book 2) (8 page)

O
ver the next two weeks
, Naomi focused on finishing her novel. Its plot kept veering off course, the hero screwing the heroine around at every turn, and Naomi kept forcing herself to change the dialogue to make him sound less like a bonafide asshole.

She heard nothing from Tyler, and had managed to avoid chatting too much with Miri about him. What was there to discuss, anyhow? He was a self-proclaimed bastard, though the title seemed more like a shield than reality. Whatever was in him, that wild, aggressive animal, needed taming. But he didn’t want to let the lion tamer in. And so there was no hope.

At nine o’clock on a Wednesday night, she was sipping a glass of white wine, reading the finished rough draft of her novel, when a frantic knock sounded at the door. She sprang up to open it.

“Miri,” she said. Her friend stood in the hallway, a worried look on her face. “What’s going on?”

“We have to go,” Miri said, grabbing Naomi by the arm. “It’s Tyler—he’s in the hospital.”

“What? Why?”

“He got badly beaten.”

“What? Another boxing match gone wrong?” Naomi scoffed. She wasn’t sure she wanted to support his violent nature.

“No. He was defending Lucas. It seems that the Pack ambushed him when he was out jogging. Tyler was with him, but they were alone and five wolves came down on them. Tyler did his best, but he took a beating before he could shift.”

“Oh my God.” Naomi’s heart felt like it might explode if it beat any faster. “Is Lucas…”

“Lucas is fine. Tyler took every blow and bite. Malcolm’s in the hospital working and called me just now. He said Tyler’s in pretty bad shape. There’s a cab waiting. Come on.”

Naomi grabbed her coat and dashed to the door with Miri. The two didn’t speak much on the way to the hospital; they didn’t need to. Naomi knew exactly how she would feel if something happened to Tyler: devastated.

When they arrived, they were directed to a private room, where Lucas sat in a chair next to his employee. He stood when he saw the women. But as he approached, Miri headed into the hallway.

Naomi froze, her eyes solidly fixed on Tyler. His eyes were shut and his neck, head and shoulder were bandaged so that he looked as though his entire shape had changed.

“How is he?” she asked, not daring to move closer.

“He’s going to be okay, they think. A little battered and bruised. But there’s no serious damage.”

“Thank God,” she said. Her eyes went to Lucas for the first time. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, thanks to this guy. He didn’t let them near me. He’s a good man, you know.”

“I know.” It was the truth. Somewhere, deep inside, she knew perfectly well just how good he was.

“Listen, there’s something you should know. I realize that Tyler wouldn’t want me telling you. But since you two went your separate ways, he’s been a mess. I’ve never seen him like this. I mean, the guy’s often in a dark mood, but he’s been well beyond dark. I’ve wanted to slap him silly more than once.”

“I wouldn’t do that. He’d take your hand off.”

“Don’t I know it. Anyhow, you deserve to know why he is the way he is. And if he won’t tell you, screw him. He’s a fool for hiding it.”

“What do you mean?”

Lucas pulled out his phone and typed something into the search engine before handing it over.

“Read it,” he said.

It was a newspaper article, dated over a decade earlier, about an incident of domestic violence in which a man had tried to kill his wife.

“I don’t understand,” Naomi said, looking at the Sovereign once again. “What is this?”

“Keep reading.”

it read.

“This…this boy was Tyler?” she asked.

“Yes. He tried to save his mother, and ended up an orphan. He’s never forgiven himself for failing to save her, or for killing his father, even though the guy deserved a far worse fate.”

Naomi stepped towards the bed, and took Tyler’s hand in her own. It was cold, so much life drawn out of him. But he was breathing, his intakes of air shallow between parted lips.

“I’m going to leave you two alone,” said Lucas. “Do me a favour and let me know if he wakes up, would you?”

Naomi nodded silently.

Lucas pulled the chair to where she stood and she sat down as he left the room. Her hand held onto Tyler’s for two hours as she watched him.

It was no wonder he was angry—no wonder he needed constant escape. And it was no wonder he’d thrown himself, literally, to the wolves to protect Lucas. He would spend his whole life trying to save everyone but himself. To prove that he was worth something after all.

It was after midnight, finally, that Naomi felt his fingers twitch around her own. She placed her other hand over his, stroking its back as she spoke his name softly.

His eyes opened and he turned his head her way.

“Don’t move,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to move.”

“How can I look at you if I don’t?” he asked, smiling weakly.

Naomi stood and leaned over him. “There,” she said. “Now you don’t have to turn your neck.”

“You look like an angel,” he muttered. “My ferret angel.”

“I’m nothing of the sort, as you know.”

“You are. You’re good. So good.”

“So are you. And you’re an idiot, nearly getting yourself dismembered like that.”

“Pretty good, huh?” he chuckled. “I guess five wolves is my limit.”

“Yeah, well, if they hadn’t already beaten you to a pulp, I’d do it now. I’m mad at you.”

“Aw. I’m sorry.” He moved his hand to her face, sweeping her hair behind an ear. “I’d make it up to you with some hot sex, but I think they broke me.”

“Wait ’til you’re better, then you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Really?” His expression changed, as though he’d remembered something. “No—Naomi—you’re not even supposed to be here. You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. Quite the opposite,” she said. Her eyes moved away from his face. She felt his hand squeeze hers briefly before he tried to pull away.

“No way,” she said. “I’m not letting you get away this time.” She locked eyes on his.

“You’ll want me to, when you know the truth about me,” he said. “I need to tell you, though. I can’t stand the thought that you’ll hate me. But if I let you walk out of here again, I’ll hate myself, which is even worse. Look—when I was a kid, something happened. Something bad.”

“Lucas told me,” she interrupted before he could continued. “He showed me an article that said what happened to your parents. I know, Tyler. And you have no idea how good you are. You beat yourself up, you try to get other people to beat you up in the boxing ring. But you deserve happiness. What happened was awful, and I’m so sorry. But you did what you needed to, and you need to accept that after all this time.”

“He beat her,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper as his eyes shifted away from her face. “More than once, to within an inch of her life.”

“Did he shift before he attacked her?”

“No. Never. He pummelled her in his human form. Do you know what that feels like, Naomi? An animal being an animal is one thing—a lion fights. Even ferrets are built for fighting, for killing. But humans? We’re not. For a human to attack someone like that takes a real dose of madness. And he
was
mad—he would go insane, come home drunk and just take all his rage at the world out on her.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s no wonder…”

“I was young, and weak. I saw it happening, or heard it, which was sometimes worse. It killed me not to be able to help. But when I was fourteen, I was tall, strong. I could take him. And I did.”

“What do you mean? Tell me everything.”

“One day, he did more than hit her. He had a knife, and before I could get close, he’d…” His voice broke, and Naomi could see him choking back tears. But he continued. “He didn’t know I was behind him. And I grabbed his arm from behind and twisted, and he dropped the knife. I threw him across the room, blinded by rage. And I could see it in his eyes—that same rage, aimed at no one and everyone at once. He hated the world.

“Nothing I did dissuaded him. He was going to kill her this time, and my resistance only fuelled the fire. He leapt at her again, even though she was on the ground, bleeding.”

His eyes met hers again. There was no smile. No grimace. Only emptiness.

“I killed him, Naomi. With these hands.” He held them before him, examining them. “Not with the teeth of a lion. With these. I could have forgiven myself had I shifted. Anyone could have—animals can go wild. But it’s inhuman to kill someone with their bare hands.”

“But don’t you see what you did? How noble it was?”

“I try. But now when I look at myself in the mirror, I see that boy who killed his father. The boy who failed to save his mother. An orphan who had orphaned himself.”

“Do you understand that you were trying to protect her? You did exactly what any strong
man
would have done. But you were just a boy. You did everything you could.”

“I know. Rationally, I know.” He breathed a heavy sigh. “I’ve tried so many times to forgive myself. Maybe I need someone like you to forgive me instead.”

“Tyler—there’s nothing to forgive. I’m no shrink, but I need you to let me help you. You need to start understanding how good a man you are. How much people like Lucas care about you. And how much I lo—”

She stopped herself abruptly. The words had flowed without thought, just bursting out of her.

He turned to her and smiled. Not the smile that Naomi had seen so many times; that charming, calculated expression of someone masking pain. This was a genuine, happy grin.

“You were really going to say it,” he said. “You really feel it.”

“Yes. I do. More now than ever, even though you look like you fell out of a tree onto your lower lip.”

“Kiss my fat lip, would you?” he said, and she did.

“You are the most amazing woman,” he added. Naomi simply smiled, her fingers brushing a few loose strands of hair off his forehead. “And I have to thank you.”

“For what?”

“I feel free. For the first time in my life, the burden has lifted.”

“You’ve never told a woman about this, have you?”

“No. But I wanted to tell you—so badly. You’re the first woman in my life I’ve ever wanted to open up to. And I tried—I really did. But you need to understand, I felt myself falling for you, so quickly. Head over heels. The thought that you’d reject me was too much. It was easier, I suppose, to pull myself out of it before I got hurt. Or worse, hurt you.”

“I was never going to reject you,” she said, leaning down to kiss his lips. “Never. You pushed me away. But I wanted you to pull me in.”

Tyler laid a hand on her cheek again, his bright eyes looking into hers as shallow lines formed around them, revealing his pure happiness. “
I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun
.”

“You’re quoting Pride and Prejudice,” she said. “You really are perfect.”

“Not perfect. But I have you—and that’s perfection.”

“Well, if you want into my pants, just keep talking like that—Mr. Darcy,” she laughed. “He is a sexy man. But I’ll take my Tyler over him any day of the year.”

“Then you’ve just made me the happiest man alive.”

I
t was
three days before Naomi was allowed to take Tyler home—to her home, as it turned out. She insisted that he return with her, saying that he was too weak to look after himself. He wanted to be irritated with her for the insinuation, but simply laughed, saying, “Yes, Ma’am,” as he climbed into the back of the cab with her.

“Are you still on painkillers?” she asked when at last he stood in her kitchen, eyeing her hungrily.

“No. I don’t like drugs. Why?”

“I was going to offer you a beer. I wasn’t sure if you’re allowed.”

Tyler took her by the waist, pulling her to him. His lips were on hers, hot and full of want, the desire of the last empty days finally beginning to find what it sought. She nearly dropped the glass that she’d picked up, managing to return it to the counter before draping an arm around his neck. This kiss—
this
was new, different than ever before.

He’d been hungry during their first days together, feral. Each time he’d touched her, it was like he knew that it might be the last, as though he’d needed to consume her with a violence that encompassed all of his frustration, all of his secrets.

But now, there was something else. Love. Gratitude. A release, rather than a need to grab hold and possess her on the spot. Now there was the comfort of deep, enduring affection.

“No beer,” he managed before raking his teeth along her neck. “No anything but you and me.”

“I can live with that,” she said, lifting her chin to offer her white skin to his lips. Blindly she pulled at the buttons on his shirt, relieving him quickly of the garment before running her fingers along his abdomen. His wounds, inflicted by the Kefir members, were healing. But he would have scars, and she smiled, knowing that they’d only add to his sexiness.

Finally she felt as though she could take her time with him; the fear that he would disappear was gone. There was no longer a time limit on their adoration—they had until the day they died to spend together. And she knew that she’d never get tired of him—of seeking out each ebb and flow of his hard body, looking for an elusive inch of softness here or there among the muscles, the taut firmness of his body.

He was powerful, but now his power had altered; it was more subdued, concealed. His lion was resting, at peace, no longer demanding the world of him. He and his inner beast had both been tamed.

“I need to take you somewhere,” he said.

“Oh? Where?”

“The bedroom, first and foremost. Then we’ll talk about the rest of our lives.”