Chapter Twenty-Three
Touching him for the first time as a wolf and feeling his fur under her fingertips was almost exhilarating.
Sierra leaned down to his level and stared into his big, dark eyes for any trace of Anthony. The wolf blinked slowly, and then nudged her hand.
“Greedy, aren’t you?” she teased, running her fingers through his coat and getting as much sensation as she could. Just five minutes ago, this creature was a man. Less than three hours ago, she’d kissed him.
Now he was a beast.
A proud beast, of course, standing like he should be one of the hundreds of statues that littered West Valley, but a creature that was no part human.
“Are you still in there, Anthony?” she caught herself asking. She knew that it was him – she’d seen the change herself – but she couldn’t imagine that he was still able to understand her.
The wolf nodded.
Within the hour, they were back in the car, and he was human. Driving. Sierra looked at his hands, at his face, and realized this was it. They’d passed the final threshold they’d been fearing, the one line that had scared her so much she hid from him the second day they knew each other.
Now he was sitting there beside her, and she wanted nothing but to kiss him. To thank him for sharing this part of his life with her because she knew it couldn’t have been easy.
“You know I’m not a dog when I’m shifting, but I did enjoy those ear scratches you gave me,” he teased, and Sierra scoffed.
“Well then, I guess I’ll just do those instead of kissing ya,” she shot back, obviously teasing him as well.
“So, you’re really okay with this? All of it?”
“I’m in for the long haul.”
***
It wasn’t quite a love confession, but knowing she’d told him she was there for anything felt like one. Sierra quickly changed into her work clothes, scooping her red hair up into a short ponytail.
“Sorry I have to work,” Sierra said softly.
“Don’t be. I’ll see you tonight when you get off. We should go to the hospital in the morning,” Anthony answered, pulling her against him. He kissed her slowly, and Sierra was tempted to just call off work and spend the evening in the arms of the man she was in love with.
She wasn’t going to hold back saying she loved him from herself anymore. She’d tell him when she was ready.
“I should stay at my place tonight in case anyone comes by to ask about my momma,” Sierra sighed, leaning her head against his chest.
“That’s a shame,” Anthony answered, tucking some of her stray hair back behind her ears.
“I can’t wait to see you again, though,” Sierra added. Leaning up, she stole another kiss, feeling cheeky in the work costume she used to loathe.
“Me too,” Anthony said, seeing her out.
Standing on the other side of the door, it felt almost strange to think that the man she’d fallen for was just some drifter staying in a hotel at her work.
What were the chances they got to meet and that she’d see what she did, which made him end up pursuing her?
Sierra pulled out a cigarette, wanting to grab a last smoke before work, and then stared at it for a second.
She’d been trying to quit.
This was the first time she’d even touched a cigarette since their first kiss.
Something in the air was electric, though, and she needed the small kick to get her to her shift. She stood outside the entrance for a moment, the regular crowds pushing past, and finished her cigarette like it was made of gold.
She wasn’t going to buy any more packs.
That was final.
Trying to drop her expression into something more blank, Sierra headed into work.
Same customers.
Same job.
After doing this for so long, nothing besides Anthony had surprised her.
A newcomer sat down at the bar, and Sierra was quick to greet her.
“Hi, I’m Sierra. What can I get you?” she asked, leaning on the bar, toward the customer.
“Sierra,” the stranger started, the name rolled out like it had been practiced. “Did you know you’re dating a murderer?” the stranger asked, leaning back in her chair.
“What?”
“Your wolf boy, he killed over ten people less than three months ago,” the woman asked. Her eyes were dark and focused on Sierra’s.
“Shh, what do you mean he killed people?” Sierra asked, ducking her head closer, not wanting to draw attention to anything this crazy stranger was saying.
“He’s looking for a pack because he killed his last one off, including his mother and sisters,” she said, resting her elbows on the counter.
“Who are you?”
“A friend. I’m not here to see you get hurt just because he’s persuasive,” the woman answered.
“Was he found guilty? Did he admit to doing any of this?” Sierra asked, wanting to get right to the point.
“Nah, he was smart and was able to get out of it because the police weren’t much help. He got off free with a fake alibi that he was out of town,” the woman complained. It sounded like she’d said it a dozen times before.
“I don’t think he could kill someone,” Sierra shook her head, thinking of where they had just been. He was a wolf, and he let her pet him like a lap dog.
He wasn’t the type to rage out or kill anyone; she was sure of it.
“How well do you really know him? He’s been in town for, what? A handful of days? A week tops? Do you really think that tiny amount of time gave you enough information to find out if he’s a killer?”
“Who are you? No messing around,” Sierra shot back, not reacting to the harsh words.
“My name’s Ivy. I grew up with him. My brother was in that pack killed by your boy toy.” Ivy rolled her eyes as though everything was too tedious for her right then.
“He’s not a killer.”
Sierra was holding her ground. She didn’t care that this stranger seemed so set in what she was saying, that she had such real conviction. People could believe anything if they convinced themselves of it.
The trouble was figuring out if Ivy had convinced herself of Anthony’s guilt, or if Sierra had convinced herself of his innocence.