Wild Hearts (13 page)

He looked down at the paper crumpled in his fist and opened the note. He skimmed it quickly, not comprehending the words each letter spelled.

Jacy pulled up alongside him and threw open the passenger door.

“Get in,” he demanded.

Coal slid into the seat and slammed the door closed as Jacy took off after Shyla.

He knew, deep down, they would never catch her. Her distancing had led up to this very moment.

“What’s that in your hand?” Jacy asked.

“She left a note.”

“A note? What does it say?”

Coal balled up the piece of paper and pitched it into the windshield with a growl. Jacy arched a brow at him.

“Read it yourself.”

The words had stabbed into Coal worse than watching her fade into the night. They raked open his heart and poured out its contents. He couldn’t have prepared himself for the emotional toll loving a woman would cause. Fuck, he never thought she’d really leave!

Her note said everything in a matter of sentences.

Coal and Jacy,

You’ve stormed my life in ways I never imagined, and I hold no regrets during our time together. But my life is not here and not with you. I’m sorry for the injuries you’ve sustained because of me. I never wished pain upon you. Please, do not try to follow me. I need to do this by myself. I need to be by myself.

Shyla

Chapter Twelve

Leaving Hood River had been tough.

Abandoning Coal and Jacy had been agonizing.

Nothing should have welcomed her home more than the constant hustle and bustle of city life. In all her years living in the metropolitan area, New York City had greeted her with open arms and smothered her in the modern-day rat race. Elbow-to-elbow pedestrians rushed down the sidewalks, restaurants displayed fabulous menus, the constant revving of vehicle engines and screeching of tires all should have made her happy. Gazing upon the skyscrapers that reached into the clouds, looming overhead with their intimidating stature, should have made her sigh with wonder. This was home.

At least it used to be, but not anymore.

Shyla tossed the pencil across her office and dropped her head in her hands with a quivering sigh. Her stomach churned, threatening to purge the small serving of cereal she’d forced herself to eat that morning. Almost two full weeks had passed since her return, and each day drove her closer and closer to a painful death due to separation. Every night she’d go home and curl up in bed, praying tears would allow her eyes rest for one day, only to have it trigger the opening of a floodgate.

This was her choice, her doing. She had brought this on herself.
She
had
left them.

Why then, did this separation gut her spirit, mercilessly shred her heart, and leave her body hollow and cold? Why did the pain only intensify with the passing of an hour, a day, a week?

Why did Coal’s words haunt her just as the images of those two men consumed her every thought?

I love you, Shyla
.

Her chin trembled, a soft whimper escaping her lips. She curled her fingers in her hair, barely noticing the pain as she pulled at her roots. God, she felt sick with longing.

She dropped her fists to her desk with a sharp thud that resonated up through her arms. She climbed to her feet and moved to her office window to gaze upon the premium view of lower Manhattan, but it failed to comfort her and take her mind off her anguish. Nothing could make her feel better about her decision to return home. The noise, the smell, the glitz and glamour of Broadway and Times Square overwhelmed her senses, hurt her ears, made her skin crawl. The pollution burned her nose, and the shadow of her wolf protested her determination to stay in this place.

“Wolf,” she whispered, her breath fogging the cold windowpane. The lower portion of the city blurred. The shadow paced in her mind. Her body began to react, from the tingling along her skin as fur formed just below the surface, to the swelling of her bones. “No. Not here. Not now.”

You don’t belong here. You belong in the wild. You belong with your mates.

Damn her inner voice for anchoring down in her open wounds. Damn her broken heart for waking to Coal and Jacy. Damn the secrets withheld from her up until two weeks ago.

“Damn me for leaving,” she sighed.

* * * *

“What the fuck do you want me to do about it?” Coal barked.

Jacy looked up at his friend and quirked a brow. Their client, obviously stunned, parted his lips. Coal sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, his gaze level with the young man across the desk.

“It’s not our fucking system.”

“Coal, chill out,” Jacy warned. He slammed the filing drawer shut, the unit shaking against the force. He stepped up to the young man and rested a hand on his shoulder, keeping him seated even as he readied to stand. “Pardon my friend. He had a rough night.”

“Bad night. Sure,” the man said.

Coal’s lip turned up in the beginning of a snarl. Jacy shot him a hard glance and watched the snarl disappear.

“Listen, why don’t you bring me your current company’s information, and I’ll see what I can do about smoothing out the operations, okay? If you don’t mind meeting me at Joan’s in town in about an hour?”

The man looked up at him, most likely scrutinizing his sincerity after Coal’s snide remarks. Hell, he understood just where that bitterness spurted from. For almost two weeks, he’d been fighting his own growing doubt that Shyla would return. His heart was no longer light, and the playful nature people knew him by began to fizzle out of him, leaving him empty and on the brink of becoming…well, Coal.

However, this was business, and he had a few choice words to share with his partner.

“An hour,” the client grumbled. He pressed to his feet and left the office.

Jacy sighed inwardly, turning to Coal. The man leaned forward on his elbow, bowing his head over the desktop. He smoothed his hands over his pulled-back hair and folded them under his chin.

“Hey, bro. We’re both hurting, but taking it out on our clientele isn’t good for business,” Jacy said. He rounded the side of the desk and leaned against it, crossing his ankles. Silence met him louder than a storm’s wind through the trees. He looked down at Coal. “She’ll be back. It’s insane to believe she can stay away for much longer. We’re mates, bro. That’s gotta count for something.”

“I appreciate your optimism, but don’t you think it’s time to smarten up?” Coal asked. The pain woven in his otherwise flat tone infected Jacy’s spirit, reflecting the brutal reality he had suppressed since Shyla left.

“I don’t have any reasons to doubt she’ll return. She will, you’ll see. Until then, chasing clients out the door with your fangs bared isn’t going to help us here.”

“Fuck, Jacy, she’s been gone two weeks. Mates or not, right or wrong, she would’ve been back by now. You believe she can’t stay away long. In my book, long is more than a few hours.” Coal cocked his head and turned his eyes up to Jacy, his cheek resting on his fists.

Jacy shrugged, forcing a smile in light of Coal’s logic.

“You don’t believe she’s coming back either.”

“I’m not giving up, Coal. Not me.”

“Neither am I, but I’m facing the stark reality. She ripped out my heart and shredded it as she drove down that driveway.”

“Why don’t we go get her? Bring her back here?”

“And what? Hold her prisoner? Force her to see what she did was foolish?” Coal groaned. Jacy straightened off his hip as his friend climbed to his feet. “No. I’m not about that, and neither are you.”

“Maybe not, but I’m also not about giving up hope.”

Coal cast him a feral glance that almost succeeded in hiding the raw anguish in his spirit. His eyes reminded Jacy of a black hole, fathomless, hollow, and cold. As his grieving brother brushed past him and disappeared into the main house, Jacy pinched his forehead.

“Christ, woman, don’t prove me wrong. We need you back here. We need
you
.”

* * * *

Shyla cruised her car to a stop alongside the curb and cut the engine. She stared at the building for a long minute. Her stomach twisted and knotted, threatening to reject the pretzels she had snacked on. Now, she couldn’t stand having anything in her stomach, and the fluttering of her heart did little to help calm her nerves.

God, two weeks was too long.

Taking a deep breath, Shyla climbed out of the car. Shaky legs carried her tingling body to the door, which stood open. Hammering and the pop of nail guns resounded through the store. The smell of fresh-cut wood teased her nose, making her sneeze.

Enough procrastinating
.

Shaking her nerves into place, she stepped through the door and looked around.

The diner had completely transformed in her absence. New wood floors had been laid. The walls were all repainted a seafoam green. New fans and panes of glass replaced the old broken ones.

Shyla swallowed. The memory of the fight still played in her mind as if it happened yesterday. She had never felt so frightened about losing someone as she had about Coal, even if he had been practically a stranger.

Shyla blinked, having drifted off in thought. A woman stared back at her, holding a paint palette and paintbrush, her cheeks and smock smeared with streaks of color.

“Uh, hi,” Shyla said.

The woman lifted a brow.

“I’m Shyla—”

“I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are,” the woman said, rather curtly.

Shyla straightened her shoulders. Of course everyone would know her if Coal and Jacy told them she ran away.

“I was hoping to find—”

“He’s in the back.”

“Thank you,” Shyla said, biting back the urge to scold the woman for being rude. Then again, she had no right to be angry with anyone other than herself. She ran away after the dangers she put them in.

Keeping her chin up, she made her way through the diner. She paused at the back door and peered out.

And there, hoisting huge slabs of wood into a pile next to the Dumpster, she spotted Jacy.

For a long moment, she watched him work. Despite the icy air, he wore no shirt, leaving his delicious, muscle-corded body bare for her eyes to course. Each hoist flexed the cut muscles in his arms and stomach, making her mouth go dry while the lower regions of her body became moist.

Jacy’s back stiffened, and his head snapped around. She knew the instant his gaze connected with hers, even behind the sunglasses. Her body melted, and emotions swelled to outstanding proportions. She had hoped to make it through this without shedding a tear, but the sight of him again made her eyes sting.

“Shyla?” he asked, lowering the piece of wood in his hands to the ground. He straightened up, turning completely toward her, but didn’t approach.

“It’s me,” she said, her voice a degree softer than intended.

“Why the hell did you go?”

“I was confused.”

“So you left?”

“Yes.”

“That’s rather stupid, don’t you think?”

Her face flushed beneath his sharp interrogation. She shifted and hugged herself, lowering her eyes from the scalding gaze that threatened to melt away the dark lenses of his sunglasses. There was nothing playful about Jacy at the moment.

“Had we wanted to stop you, we could’ve. A friend told us you went to the airport. It wasn’t a secret,” Jacy said.

“And you chose not to,” Shyla responded, scuffing the toe of her sneaker on the wood floor.

“That’s not what you wanted. You wanted us to leave you alone. So we left you alone.”

Jacy’s chuckle caught her attention, and she looked up at him. A smile replaced the cold, hard line of his mouth, softening his handsome face.

“I wasn’t worried. I knew you’d come back.” He crossed the open lot, but Shyla ran into him, meeting him halfway.

She jumped into his open arms and squeezed him tightly. She inhaled the familiar scent of woods and masculinity that she knew belonged to one of the two men she adored. His hair slipped between her fingers like silk, a soft mewl escaping her lips.

Jacy laughed. “Two weeks pressed the limit, though. If you hadn’t come back in another day or two, I would’ve dragged you back here myself.”

Shyla smiled, leaning back in his arms. She cupped his face, brushed her thumbs over his lips, pressed her mouth to his. Her kiss was short, and when she pulled away, his hand whipped up to the back of her head, stilling her. His tongue rolled through her mouth, stroking her desires, sweet moisture seeping from her heat. His hands crushed her hips against his. Shyla couldn’t resist touching him, caressing the familiar planes of his bare chest, the cuts and curves of his pecs.

Jacy turned his head slightly, ending the kiss and nuzzling his cheek against hers. “Damn, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. And Coal? Where’s he?” Shyla asked.

“Home. He’s been keeping busy while his heart heals.”

Shyla stepped back and frowned. Jacy shrugged a shoulder, pulling her back into him. Silent degradation threatened to mark her already shamed spirit in light of Coal’s current standing. She pressed her forehead to Jacy’s solid shoulder and sighed.

“I know what you’re thinking. Coal’s a tough bastard. He’s steel on two legs, or four, depending on the day. Even the strongest person has a weakness, and you’ve proven to be his.”

“You’ve taken it well.”

“I told you I knew you’d be back. Coal, on the other hand, didn’t believe me. He was sure you left for good, ripping his heart out as you drove off.”

Shyla closed her eyes and listened to the sturdy thump of Jacy’s heart, reminding herself she deserved the stark words he delivered to her even if he meant them humorously. She’d hurt both her men, both her mates, but they didn’t know just how much she’d hurt herself running away.

If she ripped Coal’s heart from his chest and caused Jacy pain equivalent to that, she had shredded her heart and spirit to pieces the moment she stepped on the plane back to New York.

“Will you take me to him?” she asked.