Roaring Up the Wrong Tree (3 page)

Keen happened to be strong and crazy smart. He just wasn’t driven to lead like Ty.

“Van, as the Enforcer and second only to the Itan, indicated I’m not part of the inner-circle. Your silence was acceptance. If I’m not in the inner-circle, I’m not the Keeper. Follow the logic and if all else fails, I have the volumes in my now
old
office.” With that, he turned from his brother, his family, and headed toward his room.

This was another encounter of many that reinforced one thought: the people who were supposed to mean the most, who were supposed to love him, didn’t give a shit about him.

The bear rumbled its agreement even as it made fun of him for sounding like a girl.

Whatever.

He strode into his room and moved to kick the door closed only to have his movement halted by a soft voice.

“Keen, wait.” Great. Mia followed him.

With a sigh, he turned to Mia. Even if she weren’t his Itana, he’d always do as she asked. She was the sister he never had and never wished for.

“Yes?”

“They don’t mean to be so…”

He dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah, they do and it no longer matters.” He looked to her. “I’m goin’ out for a while.”

Mia frowned and padded toward him. “You don’t look good. How are things with Helena?”

“It’s over.” Keen shook his head, regretting that he spoke the truth. His relationship with Helena was the shortest one yet and that had him more worried than he’d like to admit.

“Already?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, no longer meeting her gaze. “I’m gonna get outta here. Maybe search for an apartment.” He flashed her a half-grin. “A guy can’t live with his brother forever, right?”

“But—”

Keen closed the distance between them and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. He drew strength from the chaste, quick touch, allowing the skin-on-skin contact to soothe his bear. It was a quick recharge, a flash of calming, but it’d hopefully get him through the next few hours as he searched out a new place to stay.

Because staying in the clan den? Yeah, that just wasn’t happening.

“Jerry, that just ain’t happening.” Trista pressed two more buttons on the register and caught the cash drawer as it slid open.

“Aw, c’mon, Tris,” her boss whined, actually
whined
. The man was pushing fifty and acted like a three-year-old.

“Nope. I’ve gotta be on deck at Left Bank at eight.” She passed over the customer’s change and hip-bumped the register closed. “That means no staying late today.”

“But, Ronnie—”

Ugh. Ronnie always had something going on that ended with her not showing up and Trista staying late. “I get what you’re saying about Ronnie, but I don’t have a choice. I either stay here and work or get fired from my job at Left Bank. A job I really, really need.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You need this job, too.”

Yes, she did, but Left Bank paid better plus she got tips. Too bad she couldn’t say that to him. “I know and I appreciate everything you did for me after…” After her mother disappeared. “But I need both jobs and I’m working the shift I got here. I can’t stay late. Call Ronnie back and tell her she needs to come in or see if somebody else can fill the spot. I know Tommy was looking for extra hours. Call him.”

Trista focused on the next customer, grabbing his twenty and presetting pump four so the guy could fill up. “All set, have a great day.”

So intent on her job, she didn’t notice Jerry’s approach until it was too late. Suddenly his wide body was against hers, pressing forward until he had her cornered in front of the register.

“How appreciative?” The rancid scent of cigarettes and beer overwhelmed her, filling her nose, and that animal part of her snarled an objection.

Bile rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down, pushing it back. She opened her mouth and drew in a breath, hoping to avoid smelling him. Except doing that made her
taste
his aroma.

She was gonna puke on her boss.

“Huh, Trista? Just
how
appreciative are you? I gave you a lot of time off when you went looking for your momma…”

Yup, total pukefest coming right up. But what did she expect from him? A person couldn’t get anything for free. It was always “give a little, take a lot” in her life.

“You needed to save a few bucks and you hadn’t fired Pippa yet. You didn’t have room on the schedule for me.” She leaned away from him, fighting for clean air. She hated this, hated that she had to deal with sexual innuendo and the disgusting feel of Jerry’s body on hers. If she didn’t need this job…

“Pippa,” he sneered.

Yeah, she was kinda in love in a non-lesbian way with that girl, who had placed a knee in the right place and sent Jerry to the ground when he’d gotten too close. She’d been able to throw away her job. Jerry’s had been a part-time, summer position before she went off to college. Four months later, and the cold of winter bearing down on the towns, it still made her smile.

For Trista it was a won’t-eat-without-it kind of position.

The bell announcing a new customer dinged and her boss eased back, but his presence remained.

She caught sight of the newcomer out of the corner of her eye and directed her attention to him with a wide smile. His presence saved her. At least, this time around. “Good evening.”

The man grunted and kept on walking, disappearing between the aisles. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see him any longer. The man’s presence was enough to deter Jerry.

Her boss glared at her, narrowing his eyes as if he’d read her thoughts, and then he stepped away. Bodies no longer touching, his scent ceased to overwhelm her with the spoiled flavors.

“I’ll be in the back doing inventory.”

Also known as drinking.

“Sure thing.” She flashed him a smile—relieved she wouldn’t have to deal with him for a while—which earned her a scowl.

Jerry stomped through the small store, weaving along the aisles and snagging a bag of chips before he disappeared into the back. His absence let her relax and her shoulders slumped as she released the breath she’d been holding. The tangy scent of him still lingered, but at least it wasn’t as bad as before.

Trista leaned over the counter and let her gaze sweep the interior of the small store. She noted the top of that guy’s head rising above the aisle; damn, the guy had to be at least six feet to be visible like that. Part of her wanted to get a good look at him, but the other part of her wanted him to take his time. The quicker he finished, the quicker he left, and the quicker Jerry would be back.

Unfortunately, no matter how much time she wished he’d take, he showed up at the counter five minutes later. She glanced at the door Jerry disappeared through and mentally groaned. The man was peeking out at her, seeming to be waiting for her to finish with the guy.

Then he’d pounce. Again.

Pasting on an all-too-fake smile, she focused on her customer. “Find everything you need?”

He grunted. Wow, she got a talker. Which was okay since he was pretty to look at. He really was over six feet of lean, muscled hotness. His brown, shaggy hair nearly covered his eyes and he tossed his head to swing it aside. That gave her a good look at his face, at his chocolate brown irises, strong jaw, and slightly crooked nose. Someone had broken it at some point. Rather than take away from his appeal, it enhanced it. A dark scruff decorated his cheeks and she wondered if the hair would prick her palm when she stroked them.

That thought reminded her she didn’t need a man, smoking hot or otherwise, when her life was so craptastical. Hell, even if it were fantastic, she didn’t need the complication of a guy. He’d want her to lean on him, depend on him, and that wasn’t happening.

Fool me once shame on you… She wasn’t gonna be fooled twice. She couldn’t afford to.

Snagging his items, she quickly scanned them, letting the register tally his purchases. When she announced the final cost, he still didn’t focus on her. Nope, he handed over his credit card. One quick swipe and then she had his receipt.

“Here you go, Mister…” She looked at the card and gulped. Great, just what she needed. What the hell was one of
them
doing
here
? “Mr. Abrams.”

Their fingers brushed as she returned his card, his callused skin scraping the pads of her digits. A sliver of desire tinged with unease traveled down her spine. Her body reacted to him, to his touch, and she fought to tamp down her arousal. Yet her inner-animal wasn’t going to be denied. For some reason, she wanted him.

Even if he was a bear. Even if he was an Abrams. Even if he could blow her entire world to hell and back.

His gaze collided with hers, his eyes widening as his chest expanded, nostrils flaring as he drew in a deep breath.

Oh, fuck.

He furrowed his brow and repeated the action, drawing in more air. Anxiety attacked her, worry and fear rising to overwhelm her with the emotions. Adrenaline pumped through her bloodstream, pounding out an uneven rhythm. She immediately snatched her hand back, breaking their connection, as she stepped away from the counter.

Silence stretched between them, the rumble of cars and the whir of the fan in the back coolers the only things that filled the air. His deep breathing continued and she prayed he wouldn’t be able to discern her scent, discover her true nature.

Lauren was one thing. The woman was human even if she was associated with the Grayslake clan. Besides, she hadn’t said anything about her animal. Sure, the kid knew, but who’d believe a six-year-old? She was safe. Fine. Perfect, even.

Until Keen Abrams walked into the station.

Hoping to rush him along, she cleared her throat and finally broke the quiet. “Have a nice day. Come again.”

Instead of walking away, he continued to stand there, tilting his head to the side as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle. Well, she was no man’s puzzle.

Trista tore her attention from him, lifted her wrist, and glanced at her watch. Five minutes left.
Screw it. Good enough for government work.

“Right. See ya next time.” She gave a small wave and focused on the empty doorway in the back. “Yo, Jerry, I gotta go!”

It didn’t take long for him to poke his head out, a scowl on his face. “You’ve got five minutes left on the clock.”

“And I took a short lunch, so it evens out.” Pressing on the register drawer, she confirmed it was shut before hurrying toward the end of the counter and abandoning her post.

A grumbling Jerry trudged toward her and she ignored his glare, more intent on getting the fuck out rather than talking to her boss. Of course, Keen Abrams kept pace with her, matching her step for step, and she was never more thankful for the counter separating her from the customers. At least it kept some space between them. For now.

The moment she reached the end, she darted down a nearby aisle, racing for the safety of the back room. Hell, who was she kidding? Safety? She mentally shook her head. If he wanted to follow her, he would.

He lurked in her periphery and she increased her pace, heart beating faster and faster with each step. It didn’t matter that she was within her legal rights, it didn’t matter that the law was on her side when it came to her work and her residence. She knew if he wanted her gone, she’d be gone.

Like her mother.

Trista practically dove for the back door. Hell, she really did dive. She rushed forward and jumped through the doorway, grasping the edge of the panel and shoving it closed. Almost.

The slap of flesh on metal echoed through the small stock area, Keen’s hand stopping her bid for safety. “Hey, wait—”

“Sorry.” She pointed at the sign on the panel. “Employees only. Jerry can help you with what you need. Have a good day.” She pushed on the door and it didn’t budge, his strength keeping her from a clean escape.

“You’re—”

“Late for my other job.” The animal in her growled. It knew a bear stood before them, a powerful bear, and it didn’t like being in this position.

“You shouldn’t—”

“Really gotta go.” Adrenaline pumped through her veins, urging her to run, to hide, to be anywhere but Jerry’s Gas Station.

The shrill ring of a cell phone broke into their battle, dragging his attention from her enough for her to shove the door closed. Damn it, she wished she could throw the lock, but that’d piss Jerry off when he couldn’t get in. Hell, it might anger him enough to fire her.

Though, dead or fired, which was worse?

She wasn’t sure.

Keen’s muffled voice reached her. “Lauren? What’s up?”

Trista winced. Crap. He knew Lauren, which meant he’d soon know about her. Maybe he wouldn’t connect the dots. She snorted. Right. The bears were assholes, but they weren’t stupid.

“The laws of visitation?”

Yeah, she was so caught.

Trista ran into a bear cub who figured out what she was and then told Lauren and then Lauren told Keen while Keen had already scented her and… Bum, bum, buuummm…
My life is over.

Not waiting for the bear to figure things out, she snatched her purse and strode to the back entrance. Apartment. Shower. Change. Left Bank.

Just because she was about to be run out of town—or worse—by the bears, didn’t mean she didn’t have to work.

A girl’s gotta eat.

* * *

Keen was tempted to shift and confirm what his nose told him. A hyena? In Redby? Nah, he couldn’t imagine Reid, the werewolf Alpha, allowing a hyena in wolf territory. And yet… He’d stood not five feet from the woman as she’d rung up his purchases. He’d had to fight past the stink of the gas station owner, but beneath the stench he’d found the sweet scent of the woman.

Then the battle began. The bear’s desire for her warred with the man’s objection to her species. The man eventually overruled the bear. For now.

His human half was ready to run her out of town. At least, until Lauren called, fussing at him for bolting before they could talk, and distracted him.

When Lauren went back to her old apartment to check on the new owner, she’d run into her friend Trista. Trista who’d almost been eaten by Parker when he’d sniffed her. Parker who assured his Aunt Lauren the woman smelled like the bad man who’d kidnapped him over six months ago.