Entangled Interaction (10 page)

The boys must have made an impression on the man because he made it a point to write their names and address down after checking with me first. He told me he wanted to let the others back at the main office know about what Sasha and Chance had done. He complimented them heartily and told me what an excellent job I had done to have raised such caring boys.

The boys walked around so proud of themselves for days. I added to their egos, reminding each how thoughtful they had been. It made my heart swell in knowing that such compassion existed in ones so young. They saw a need and gave up something of their own, whatever they could, in order to help.

By that time, the painter visited, changing my room from off-white to more of a robin's egg blue. The boys had chosen a light green to replace the pastel blue that had been their nursery base color. We ventured out to the home store, purchasing new curtains and bed linens to accent the new décor. I even sprung for a new bed, donating the old one to a worthy cause.

Later that day, I stood in my bedroom appraising the new look. No more pictures of the past remained. The bed linens were now a butterfly print, reminding one of spring and new life. A painting of the mountains just after a winter snow now hung over the bed, while a couple of floral prints brought out the colors in the room. My closet, newly organized, had tons of room. I feared missing the old look, but realized the new colors, the freshness felt right, as if I turned over a new leaf.

Determined to keep the motto of finding my new life, I agreed to finally meet a persistent Jasmine at the club. A week had passed since the incident. She begged, threatened, and harassed until I completely ran out of excuses.

Jessica prodded me to go, volunteering to watch the boys so I could get out of the house for a few hours. She clucked over me, admonished my self-isolation, and lectured me often about time passing me by.

My assent earned a squeal of delight from Jasmine as well as a promise to make the night into a celebratory gift from the whole
Familia
to me. I protested, to no avail. She bore the same stubborn streak as her brother.

Speaking of Meat, my feelings washed back and forth like a ship on the ever-changing tides. One day, I decided to throw caution to the wind, speak to him, and see if we could patch things up. Maybe, just maybe, we could make a go of it. The following day, my mind cranked hard in reverse, opting to look ahead instead of to the past. The alpha's son had had his chance when he showed what he truly thought of me and my abilities. Some days I decided to say good riddance to him. Others, I wanted to race back to his arms, begging him to never let me go. However, in the end, pride won out.

I would go to their party, put my nose in the air, and avoid Meat. I could and would be civil, but nothing more than casual conversation and definitely no alone time. Safety in numbers.

I met Jasmine at the club's door promptly at eight. She tossed her hair back with a casual smile. Her jeans and red blouse flattered her assets, while being classy and subtle at the same time.

"I was about to come looking for you." She sported a happy, relieved grin.

I smiled slowly in return. "Traffic."

"Uh huh." Taking my arm, she dragged me into the center of the den of humanity.

We talked for a little bit, drank a glass of lemonade, and watched the crowd. A few of the faces appeared familiar, but I didn't know anyone by name.

"Tyger said he would drop in after he gets off work. Mom and Dad said they might stop by too, but you can't always count on them. Way too busy lives." Jasmine sipped her drink and looked over the crowd.

I picked at the label on my bottle and nodded. Checking my watch, I calculated what time I would make my escape to avoid a confrontation with the liger.

"He's asked about you several times, you know."

I looked up to see Jasmine watching me intently. Quickly, I averted my eyes and pretended interest in a nearby table of rowdy but handsome men. My phone number hadn't changed. As far as I was concerned, if he worried about me, he could have called.

Jasmine released a long sigh. "He's not one to talk about his feelings. Too much of an alpha for that. But I know him well. Underneath that hard exterior, he's mushy when it comes to you."

Deciding I couldn't dodge this discussion with her, I opted to get it over with. "I think he's made up his mind when it comes to me. I'm in his past, not his future." I tugged nervously at my pink top, then grabbed the end of my braid to pluck at stray hairs.

She shook her head. "He's stubborn, but he'll come around."

I shrugged in lowly acceptance. "I'm human and won't live long enough for that to happen."

Before she could retort, I excused myself to go to the ladies' room. She let me go with a nod. "I'll watch our drinks."

I didn't know whether to take my time and enjoy the escape from such difficult questions, hoping the conversation would completely change topic once I returned, or to hurry back lest she come up with more material related to my presently defunct relationship with her brother.

Returning from the bathroom, I twisted and bent my way through the crowd, heading toward the table she'd commandeered for us. Picking up parts of conversations, I didn't pay much mind until one particular phrase caught my attention.

"Tyger said she can't teleport worth shit. The alpha helped her get back to that house."

"That's what happens when you let a human, a woman at that, think they have some skills. Piss poor skills at that. Have to bail them out each and every time," another voice agreed.

I swung around to see who spoke. Two blond-haired men sat at a nearby table, obviously discussing the incident and my part in it. I could only recognize them as part of the male dominated mob that night in the bar, meaning they were part of the
Familia.

A lump lodged in my throat.

I knew Meat didn't believe in me. He'd stated that bluntly on the night those wolves kidnapped his sister. In front of every male shifter in a one hundred mile radius. No wonder the pack members spouted such conclusions. Maybe they were right too. Maybe I had fooled myself in thinking I actually teleported and hit my target when my back was plastered against the wall. The alpha surely had powerful magic and more than likely picked the image from my mind, using it to home us in on the abandoned house. The more I considered the revelations, the more they rang true. They didn't need my help to save the day. They solely needed the image from my mind. After that, I was dispensable. A useless human.

Anger coiled in my gut as I pushed my way through the crowd. As much as I wanted to tell those men off, I preferred not to make a public scene and ruin Jasmine's party. No. Much better to simply leave than confront gossip-spreading shape shifters.

I stumbled up to the table. Jasmine turned to me, her smile fading quickly to a look of concern. "What is it?"

I could only shake my head. "Noth… nothing."

"What happened? Did someone say something to you?" She stood up, her movements crisp and jerky with agitation.

"I… I just don't belong here. I'm sorry." No sooner were those words out than I made a beeline for the door.

Only when I pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, did I release a pent-up breath and unclench my teeth.

Humans and shape shifters were simply too different. Nothing I could do would change that fact. A relationship that at first looked bright and promising now appeared destined for failure from the get-go. Inter-species dating didn't work for a good reason.

With a weary sigh, I drove home.

No sooner had I tucked the boys into bed and kissed them goodnight than Jessica waited for me in the hallway. I glanced her way, then left the room, closing the door carefully behind me.

She didn't speak until we sat down on the living room couch. "What's wrong? It's written all over your face."

"I overheard some jerks talking at the club." Poking on the television, I absently thumbed through channels.

"I presume about you?"

"Yep. Questioning whether I really did teleport to find Jasmine or if Micah used his abilities to get the job done, making me a simple tool." Agitation reappeared. I sucked in a slow deep breath, trying not to let the buzzards get to me.

Jessica nodded. "I see." For a moment she watched the television screen. "Seems to me, what they think shouldn't matter."

Bumfuzzled, I turned and met her gaze. "Huh?"

She shrugged. "You don't know them. They don't know you. Why should what they think and believe matter? You're the one suffering because you're letting them get to you."

"It's hard to ignore a whole conversation when my name and reputation is completely maligned."

"True." She tapped her lips with a manicured finger. "If they whispered about your clothing choice, even that you had no fashion sense, would you be upset?"

"Not really. I don't follow fashion, never will. As long as I'm decently covered, I really don't care what people say."

"Then why is it different with your teleportation?"

"Because everyone always questions my abilities. It's a source of irritation."

"Perhaps they hit a nerve because you're insecure and question your own skills."

"Probably. But they were rude, laughing about it."

"It's rude to spit on the sidewalk or curse in public. Do you make a beeline for those people or sulk afterward because you were offended?"

"Well, no."

"Then it sounds like the issue isn't with the rude shifters, it's with your confidence and self-esteem. By listening to their garbage, you feel inadequate and take their words to heart."

The light bulb clicked on. Jessica made a good point, one I'd never considered. "When did you get so smart?" I grinned at her.

She snorted. "You wouldn't believe the counseling I get stuck with running the sex shop. It would make your head spin."

Now that made sense. My piddly confidence when it came to my magical abilities probably paled in comparison to some of these odd people with big time sex hang-ups.

I gave her a tight hug. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

She grinned back. "Let's not find out. I haven't caught the man of my dreams yet."

"Got one in mind?"

Jessica nodded.

"Dare I ask?"

Her gaze traveled the room before she leaned in close to whisper in my ear. "He lives right down the hall."

My mouth fell open. "Bas?"

"Shhhh. Yes."

"Oh, my." My mind whirled with delight.

"Not a word. Promise me."

"Promise." I crossed my fingers over my heart. "If there's anything I can do to help…"

"I'll let you know." With a flash of a smile, she headed back upstairs.

Chapter 9

"Come on, Shyanne. Gym time."

I grumbled under my breath and finished typing the final paragraph of a report. Normally I didn't play transcriptionist, but the company needed more help, and I could use more hours to beef up my paycheck. Luckily, PPD had its own daycare and allowed the boys to stay all day for a minimal charge as I worked.

"Time's a wasting." Cannibal sauntered over to my desk and stared down at me.

The sounds of keyboard pecking stopped abruptly with Cannibal's appearance. Glancing around the room, I found four sets of eyes locked on the tall, dark-haired Enforcer. More than one woman licked their lips in obvious appreciation.

Cannibal, despite his surliness, garnered plenty of attention from the workforce, mainly the women but even a few of the men. His large frame carried abundant muscles, grace, and power while his carriage spoke of absolute confidence with a healthy mix of arrogance thrown in. His personalized shirt could read, "Badass and proud of it." While not snooty, he kept to himself, remained aloof, and became the source of a litany of rumors due to the mystery that surrounded him. He made an excellent specimen for eye candy. Unfortunately, I felt no sparks between us. Friendship and caring, sure. I need you more than I need my next breath… nope.

"Okay. Okay." Saving the document, I quickly shut down my computer. Once the screen went black, I grabbed up my purse. "Lead the way."

The corners of his mouth hitched up. "Enthusiastic as ever." He spun around and strode down the hall, not stopping until he reached the door to the employee workout room.

I followed along dutifully, already cringing in anticipation of the soreness and bruises I'd carry home after this session. Heck, I wasn't even sure the ones from two days ago had time to heal yet.

"Remind me again why I'm doing this?" I walked through the door he held open, headed to the far mat, and dropped my purse against the wall.

For all intents and purposes, we had the area to ourselves. Two other men worked out on the weight machines far across the spacious room, both vaguely familiar Enforcers. The closest one stared for a long moment until his gaze landed on Cannibal. Immediately, he switched machines, jumping on the arm curls, which faced the opposite direction.

"You've been clobbered twice in the past few months. At this rate, you'll be dead before the year is out. Since I would hate to have to train another gopher when you're already marginally housebroken, I decided you needed some self-defense lessons."

I shot him a small grin. "I knew you cared."

He snorted. I giggled.

For a brief moment, his lips twitched and his eyes sparked with amusement. "On the mat. Let's run through what you learned last time first then I'll show you some new techniques."

Thirty minutes later, I groaned with the effort to lift myself off the mat and back into a fighting stance. My legs wobbled, arms trembled, and my butt stung from more than one hard landing on the cushioned mat.

"You've got to move faster with that spin and kick. Otherwise, your opponent will predict what's coming, slam an arm into your back, and…"

"Send me flying to the ground like you just did?" I panted in an effort to catch my breath.

"Exactly. Now, do it again."

He approached from the front. I ducked away from his long reach, spun, and nearly landed my foot in his gut. Nearly. Instead, I found myself flying toward the earth. On instinct, I grabbed the closest thing in reach, Cannibal's shirt, and held on for dear life.