Thunder (Alpha Love - a Paranormal Werewolf Shifter Romance Book 3) (4 page)

Finn shrugs, “Just figured that you’d be better heading back to the motel tonight. Luke probably won’t want to hear about how you’re still sleeping with the enemy.” He gives her a look that speaks volumes.

She knows that he’s right. She can’t afford to do anything to make Luke any more suspicious of her and Ashton than he already is. The connection between them really is unlike anything she’s ever felt before; she feels like a part of her wakes up when she’s around him, like she’s more alive.

She types a reply to Ashton, trying to set the same tone as he has in his text—not saying anything too deep outright, but making it clear how she feels. She tells him she can’t make it tonight but that she misses him. She re-reads the text about a hundred times before sending it.
When are we going to stop playing these games
? she thinks. There’s no response to her message, and she can already feel herself starting to angst over it like a love-sick school kid. She shoves the cell back into her pocket, reminding herself that she already has a long list of stuff to worry about. She doesn’t need to go looking for things to add to it.

The drive back to the motel is filled with Finn’s chatter. He’s talking about some computer program that he’s trying to persuade Shale he needs, but they’ve said it’s too expensive, and now he’s sounding off about it. Finn doesn’t like awkward silences, he prefers to fill them, even with a one-sided conversation. Sofie is grateful for his voice, allowing her to focus on something other than the fact that she would most likely be seeing Luke the next day. The thought of it makes her shiver involuntarily.

“Oh, the receptionist dude, the one that stares a lot, the bug-eyed one?” Finn makes his eyes wide like he’s pretending to be a goldfish.

“I think he prefers Brett,” Sofie shakes her head at Finn but can’t help laughing at his impression.

“Whatever, he said he had a message for you last night. He seemed pretty anxious to deliver it to you. I bet someone’s got a little crush,” Finn says in a sing-song voice.

“Yeah, well, I’m old enough to be his mother.” Sofie waves Finn’s comment away as they walk towards the motel entrance doors.

“Cut yourself some slack, Braun! Not his mother, more like his cool aunt!” Finn throws the back-handed compliment over his shoulder as he heads to his room. “I’ll leave you two alone.” He gives the words so much meaning that Sofie feels bad for poor Brett, who is blushing like the teenager that he is.

Sofie approaches the reception with an apologetic smile. “Sorry about my friend. He doesn’t get out much.”

Brett’s face is still so red that Sofie’s a little concerned that he may just pass out right in front of her, but he manages to pull himself together. “That’s alright Ms. Brau—, Sofie,” he corrects himself, looking at her like he’s checking if it’s still okay for him to call her by her first name.

After he just stands there looking at her for a few increasingly uncomfortable moments, she decides to move things on a little, otherwise this could take quite some time. “You have something for me, Brett?” She looks at him hopefully, trying to cover her yawn as the tiredness from the last few days catches up with her.

“Yeah, right.” He rushes to the side of the desk, rifling through reams of paper. It’s as if the computer revolution hasn’t quite reached Beaumont, and the thought makes Sofie smile. It’s one of the things that she likes about the town. It feels kind of like a place that’s out of time, away from the big, bad real world. It gives her a feeling of peace, of safety, something that she’s never experienced back in DC or, as she’s started to think of it, reality.

That feeling, that illusion of security comes crashing down on her when Brett hands over the message he scrawled down. “It didn’t make much sense to me. The guy on the phone just told me to take it down, he said you’d know what it meant?” Brett searches Sofie’s face for a sign that she understands what he’s written, but the only confirmation he gets is the color going out of her face.

She turns white as a sheet as she reads the two words written in capital letters, making it seem like they’re being shouted at her.

“Are you alright?” Brett looks at her with concern, frowning deeply as he gets flustered, trying to figure out what to do.

“I’m fine,” she says, managing to force the words out of her throat, which seems to have suddenly gone dry as a bone. She turns on her heel and hurries down the corridor. She needs to get back to her room. She needs four walls around her; she needs to be on her own so she can sit down and try to remember how to breathe.

Her hands are shaking so much it takes her three attempts to get the key into the lock, and she slams the door shut behind her. She slides down the door until she’s sitting on the worn carpet. It’s like all the wind has been taken out of her sails. The little crumpled ball of paper that she holds tightly in her hand has sapped all the energy out of her.

She opens her fist slowly and watches as the paper unfurls in her palm, like it’s stretching. The two words are still there; she hasn’t wished them out of being. She reads them again—although she doesn’t need to. She knows what they say.
COLLECTION DAY
.

Sofie tries to quiet the insistent beating of her heart. It feels louder than anything she’s ever heard. She looks at the calendar hanging on the opposite wall. Tomorrow is the last day of the month, which means that it’s only one day until she’s supposed to be in DC. One day until she’s supposed to hand over the envelope of cold hard cash that, this time, she doesn’t have. It’s the routine that she’s been following for months, for years.

But how could they know where I am? How could they have realized I’m not going to be in DC?
If Luke had managed to persuade her super to let him into her apartment, there was no telling what information the collectors had managed to get out of the man. They were good at getting people to talk. They were good at getting people to do a lot of things.

She needs to get in touch with them, to explain why she can’t give them the cash, to ask for more time. But there’s no way for her to contact them, she’s never had to before, and she’d never wanted to. She was happy to keep their relationship to a monthly handover; she didn’t want any more to do with them than that. They’d always got in touch with her, and it seems that this month was no different.

The message is more than a reminder about payment. It is their way of telling her that they know more about her than she had ever thought. It’s their way of making it clear that she can’t disappear, that they’ll find her. That’s what the message means—that they’re going to come for her here, in Beaumont.

As soon as Sofie is able to get up off of the floor, she logged onto her bank account to see how much she had—just enough to pay the collector. She breathed a small sigh of relief, but it’s not enough to keep the jitters at bay.

She feels like she’s one step behind all the time. She needs some help, a heads up, someone who can give her an early warning. She picks up her cell and listens to the ringing tone as she paces up and down her bedroom.

“My favorite nerd! What’s up? You don’t call! You don’t write!” Lindsey’s voice is playful as always, and Sofie can just imagine her sashaying round the bar as she talks to her.

“Hi Linds.” She can’t help but smile; there’s something about Lindsey that makes it impossible to be in a bad mood. Perhaps that was another of her many talents that she was always so mysterious about.

“What’s up, girl? You sound tired. Is Ashton not letting you get any sleep?” Lindsey giggles naughtily.

“I don’t kiss and tell!” Sofie smiles down the phone.

“Honey, I wasn’t talking about kissing!” There’s a clatter of glasses as Lindsey clears up the bar.

She realized that
Shots
must be about to open, and she hadn’t even realized the time. “Look, I know you’re busy, so I don’t want to keep you. But I was calling for a favor.” She bites her lip. She realizes that it’s always so hard for her to ask for help, even when it’s something as simple as this.

“Whatever you need, honey-bun. Shoot.” Lindsey’s simple, easy friendship is exactly what Sofie needs, there’s no judgment with her.

“I was hoping you could let me know if anyone…different stops by the bar.” Sofie holds her breath, waiting for the inevitable questions.

“Different? As in two heads instead of one?” Lindsey stops doing whatever it is she’s doing and gives Sofie her full attention.

“No, I’m not expecting an alien landing anytime soon. I just mean, if you see anyone that you don’t recognize or someone who looks like they’re not from around here.” Sofie winces at how vague she knows she’s sounding, but she needs to tread carefully. She has no intention of broadcasting the fact that she’s been followed to Beaumont by the less than legal guys that her deadbeat dad managed to get mixed up with.

“Alright…But there are a few more of those out-of-towners around than before—with the jobs going at the canyon, I mean.” There’s no bitterness in Lindsey’s voice; it’s just a statement of fact. She doesn’t make Sofie feel like it’s her fault that Shale is poised to destroy the place that she and others like her call home.

“Sure, right. Forget I said anything,” Sofie says, waving away her idea with her hands, as if Lindsey could actually see her.

“Are you going to tell me what all this is about, babe?” Sofie can almost see Lindsey standing in the middle of the bar, hand on her hip, tapping her foot impatiently.

“It’s nothing, nothing important. Just let me know if you see anyone that you get one of your…vibes about, that’s all.” Sofie picks up the crumpled ball of paper and throws it in the trash, where it belongs.

Lindsey waits for a few seconds, probably trying to figure out if it’s worth her while to pump Sofie for any more information. When she realizes she’s not going to get anywhere with that, she moves on. “Sure thing, sugar. I’ll let you know if my radar starts to freak out. So, now will you dish on what’s going on with you and Ash?” Lindsey asks excitedly.

“Truthfully? I don’t know.” Sofie flings herself down onto the bed, staring up at the peeling ceiling.

“You don’t know?” Lindsey says, as if it’s the stupidest thing she’s ever heard.

“No, it’s not like it is with you and Hector. It’s different. There’s so much we don’t say to each other, so much that I want to know and he can’t or won’t tell me. It doesn’t exactly make for a story that ends in happily ever after.” Sofie swallows the lump in her throat that appears out of nowhere, as she thinks about the end of the two of them and what that would look like.

“Give it time, Sofe. Ashton’s not the most open of guys, as you’ve probably figured out. Besides, it’s not like you’ve caught him at a time when nothing’s going on, you know?” says Lindsey, hinting at what she means but careful not to say too much on the phone. After Sofie had told the pack about her cell being hacked, everyone was becoming a little more careful.

“I know, I know, and it seems crazy that I’m sitting here worrying about where our relationship, or whatever this is, is going when things are so serious for you and the others.” She can’t help feeling like she’s being selfish, complaining about Ashton being so closed off when they have bigger problems to deal with, like the fact that the pack are about to lose the homeland that they’ve had for centuries.

“It’s not crazy, Sofe. That’s not what I meant. You trust me, right? You know I wouldn’t say anything to you just to make you feel better. And you know how right my…vibes usually are?” It was clear that Lindsey is leading up to something; something that she hadn’t planned on sharing until Sofie’s call.

“Sure, I trust you, and your…vibes are a thing of legend, Linds!” Sofie smiles, as she thinks about the stories that Hector has told her of the things that Lindsey has accurately predicted. He had grumbled that if only she had the power of sight when it came to the winning lottery numbers.

That’s when Lindsey had punched him on the arm, much to Ashton’s amusement, and explained to Sofie that it isn’t quite that simple. She doesn’t get the whole picture when a vision or a feeling comes to her. It’s just bits and pieces that she has to figure out to make the whole story. It’s an art—not a science—and there have been times when she’s understood the meaning of things too late. Lindsey had exchanged a look with Ashton as she said this, and both had suddenly turned quiet and serious. It was one of the many times when Sofie was around them that she felt like she had missed something.

“Right, so you know that I don’t have the full picture. But just believe me when I say that you two are made for each other. I can’t say more than that, because that’s all I know right now.” Lindsey’s voice is calm and so certain that it’s hard not to be persuaded by her.

“Well, that sounds pretty good to me, Linds.” Sofie smiles at the thought. She suddenly gets an image of her and Ashton in the woods together, but they’re not on their own. There’s a small hand in hers, a little boy standing between her and Ashton, a little boy with cornflower blue eyes. Just as quickly as the picture came to her, it disappears.

“Sofe, you still with me?” Lindsey’s voice on the end of the line wakes Sofie up out of her daydream, or whatever that was.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s this headache; it’s hard to concentrate on anything. I think I’m just going to have a hot bath and go to bed.” Sofie massages her temples, as the ache spreads along her forehead.

“A migraine, again?” Lindsey sounds concerned, worried even.

“Yeah, it comes and goes. You know how it is.” Sofie tries to wave away Lindsey’s worry; it was just a headache after all.

“How often does it come and go?” Lindsey’s insistence makes it clear she’s not going to let this rest.

“Oh, you know, now and again. But it’s not that surprising, considering everything that’s going on!” says Sofie, making light of it, despite the fact that the ache is starting to make her feel like her head is about to split open like a melon.

“I guess,” Lindsey responds uncertainly, clearly not convinced. “What about at night? Have you been having any dreams?”

Sofie opens her mouth to tell her about the nightmare she’d had the night before, then she closes it again. It was just a symptom of her own insecurity about being the odd one out amongst the pack, being the one that wasn’t like the others. She didn’t need a dream interpreter to tell her that.

“Nothing that I can remember. Honestly, Linds, I’m fine. You worry more than Finn does!” Sofie laughs down the phone.

“Yeah, well someone needs to worry about you, seeing as you don’t seem to take care of yourself. How is my new favorite drinking buddy, anyway? Tell him to come down to the bar. I’ve got a shot with his name on it!” Then, Sofie hears some background noise as the first patrons rock up to the bar.

“I’ll let him know. Thanks, Linds,” she says, pushing herself off the bed and thinking how good a bath sounds.

“No worries. Anything else, you know where to find me.” With that, Lindsey hangs up, and Sofie’s left battling with the faucet in the bath. It won’t even turn, like it’s been rusted shut.

“Guess a shower it is then,” she sighs, as she strips off, turning the temperature up as hot as she can stand it. She grabs the bottle of Advil from the side of the basin. She’d only bought it a day or so ago, and it was already virtually empty. She’d lost count of how many of those pills she’d been popping to keep the headache at bay. She swallows a couple down and looks at herself in the steamy mirror.

Despite everything that has happened recently, she looks the same. She feels like there should be some kind of visible difference in her, now that her world has been opened up and she knows about the existence of werewolves. She has seen men transform into beasts. Not only that, but she’s fallen for one of them, and fallen hard. She’s been propositioned by her boss and been promoted. She’s running a drilling site that’s going to destroy the werewolves’ home, and there doesn’t seem to be anything that she can do about it. She expects all of this and more to be written on her face. However, it’s the same dark, almond eyes that stare back at her and the same caramel-colored hair that falls around her shoulders, framing her angular features and her high cheekbones. She looks the same as she did a couple of weeks ago—although she feels almost like a completely different person.

She slips into the shower, already feeling better once the hot water starts pounding on her, like it’s forcing the tension out of her body, drip-by-drip. She stands underneath the shower, letting it beat down on her, letting it take away all her worries and concerns, even if it’s just for the few minutes she’s in there for.

That’s when she hears a noise that makes her breath catch in her throat. It’s a creak. It sounds like it’s coming from her bedroom. She keeps listening out, but doesn’t hear anything else. She puts it down to paranoia, the message that Brett had given has her so spooked she’s imagining dangers where there are none.

“Room for one more?” Sofie nearly jumps out of her skin at the voice in her bathroom. She spins around, almost losing her footing on the slick tub, and sees Ashton, leaning against the wash basin, an amused expression on his face as he takes in her surprise.

She realizes she must look fairly ridiculous, dripping wet, eyes wide as saucers and in danger of slipping on the tub and breaking her neck. “Jesus, Ashton, sneak up much?”

“Well, if you hadn’t left your door unlocked, I wouldn’t have been able to sneak up on you. You should be more careful. Haven’t you heard there are wolves around?” Ashton smiles sexily at her and looks at her hungrily. It’s at this point that Sofie remembers she’s completely naked.

She feels her cheeks flush. She knows it’s strange, really, that she should be so aware of her nakedness with a man that she’s slept with too many times to count. But there was something about being the only one that was naked that made her feel a little vulnerable.

“Yes, I had heard, but I didn’t think they knew how to open doors,” Sofie retorts sarcastically.

“Oh, there are a whole lot of things that they know how to do.” Ashton looks at her meaningfully, and she feels a blush spreading across her face all over again. “So, is there room for one more?”

“Sure, but I’m almost done in here,” Sofie shrugs, pretending that she’s missed his meaning.

“Oh, really? I think you’re still a little dirty.” Ashton lifts of his t-shirt in one smooth movement, his muscles rippling. He unbuttons his jeans, letting them fall to the floor, leaving him naked and so damn hot. Sofie feels like she’s overheating.

His body really is perfect; it’s like someone took all the best parts of a man and put them together
, she thinks. By all rights, he shouldn’t be real and yet he is, here in front of her, stepping into the shower, his eyes never leaving hers, the connection between them stronger than any other force.

Ashton pulls her to him, his fingers sliding over her wet skin as he caresses her face, her shoulders, her back, her ass. She kisses his chest, feeling the hardness of his pecs under her lips. He pulls her face up to meet his, crushing his lips against hers as they kiss.

The water rains down over them, making their bodies wet and slippery so they glide against each other. Their skin is soft, so soft to the touch. They kiss deeply, desperately. Sofie’s body is already responding to Ashton and the hardness against her stomach telling her that he’s as ready as she is.

She starts kissing his jawline, feeling the bristles of his stubble, rubbing her skin. It’s the thin line between pleasure and pain that she so desperately needs and yearns for. She moves her lips down his neck, sucking, licking, and biting. She runs her fingers over his chest, rubbing his nipples so that they go hard under her touch. Her pussy does somersaults as she thinks about making all of him hard.

But there’s something she wants to know, something she wants to hear from him. She looks up, and he wipes the wet hair away from her face. “Why did you come here?”