Ten

Lexington was bouncing along in Aaron’s truck for the second time, but this ride out to DTD’s property felt all different. She was pretty sure her and the girls had thoroughly fucked themselves out of any chance of becoming part of the pack. It seemed like fate was determined to leave them looking like irresponsible trouble-makers. Every time a dog was around, it was like the vixens were caught with their pants down.

Aaron maneuvered the truck across a small low-water bridge and Lexington could feel the tension wafting off of him. She turned to see he was ramrod stiff in his seat, jaw set and fingers gripping the wheel until they were white, where moments ago, he’d been the calm one, so sure things could work out with the wolves.

“Don’t usually take this road to the highway,” he rasped.

The truck slowed going over the small bridge and then he gunned the engine once they were across. Like he was running away from it.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asked, hoping he would. And hoping whatever was bothering him wouldn’t break her heart.

Aaron was quiet for a long time, just staring out the windshield, but she knew he wasn’t ignoring her question. He was building up to something big.

With a deep breath, he said, “My parents died on that bridge.”

Aw, damn. It was worse than she thought. Her human was missing his parents. She could feel the sadness that filled him through their newly budding bond, but her mouth didn’t seem to work. She couldn’t think of the right thing to say, to make it better. And she really, really wanted to make it better.

“They tried to cross in a storm, when the water was above the bridge. Their car got swept into the creek and by the time the sheriff found them…” He shook his head slowly. “They were gone. Both of them, just like that. I didn’t get to say goodbye,” he said softly.

Tears pricked Lexington’s eyes but she had a feeling Aaron wouldn’t appreciate her crying for him, so she pushed them down until the back of her throat burned with them.

“I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she whispered, but he was lost in the past, his brow furrowed with memories.

“I was an asshole afterward,” he muttered. “I couldn’t deal with being in this town, around all the people who knew them, all the people with the pity in their eyes. And Annie… I couldn’t look at Annie and see her sadness, that was bad enough. But it was… it was her strength that sent me running for so long. How shitty is that?” He shot a glance at Lexington and then back to the road.

Damn it, he was tearing her heart up with this. If there was one thing her human was not, it was shitty. He’d taken her on, with all her problems, with her six other foxes and their fragile situation, and went headlong into finding a way to help her.

He was amazing. Strong. Sure, he had years’ worth of scars. Like he said, life armor. But they were beautiful. And if he was still a work in progress, it was okay by her, because she was one too.

“Not shitty,” she choked out. “Grief makes people do things they would never do otherwise.”

“She was solid, kept things going smoothly at Red Cap. Took care of me when I was drunk off my ass trying to drink away the grief. She was a rock even though she was hurting too, and I just couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand that she could keep going when I was falling apart. So I left. Didn’t say goodbye to the guys, gave my sister some lame ass excuse about finding myself, and then got the hell outta dodge.” He turned the wheel taking them onto the highway. “Stayed gone for nine years. Took me nine years to get my shit together, and still… I’m working on it.”

“You did what you needed to do, Aaron. To get through a hard time.”

“I ran away.” He found her gaze and held it. “Something I’m never doing again. Running is for assholes without wheels.”

Lexington chewed her lip, because she didn’t exactly agree. She wasn’t black or white on this. She was steadfastly in the gray.

“Sometimes running is necessary.”

His forehead creased in a frown.

“For survival. Sometimes running is the only thing you can do.” Holding back the tears was getting harder, but she wouldn’t let them fall again. Not over her past.

“You and the vixens ran,” he whispered almost to himself, but she nodded anyway. “Tell me what happened.”

Lexington ran a shaking hand through her hair and let out a long breath. Come on, fox. Let’s get this done with. Mate needs to know.

“My time was coming up. Ragan had just given birth to Kit and she was a mess. She’d already been won a season prior, in a brutal battle between the male she was in love with and another.” Lexington cringed. Ragan’s story wasn’t hers to tell, but it was the catalyst that got the vixens moving. It was an important part of why they were here. “And like I said, they fight to the death. The one that lives wins the female. So she lost her love and was bred by his killer all in the same night.”

“Fuck,” Aaron muttered. He stared out the window with a fist over his mouth, like he didn’t trust himself to keep silent.

“She had a hard pregnancy. Her animal was so broken she wanted to give up. Me and the girls kept her going as best we could, and when Kit was born, things changed. She started caring about life again, started wanting to fight back. But the last straw was when they announced the next fight. I was to be the prize.”

The cab of the truck went hot with the rage rolling off Aaron, but Lexington pressed on.

“We knew it was only a matter of time before Barb and Seraphina and Sally were in the same situation. So we took Kit, packed what we could carry in my truck, and ran.” She recalled driving through Iowa with Barb, Sera, and Sally jammed in the bed of her truck with their meager things, while Kit slept in his car seat next to Ragan in the front.

But the story wasn’t over.

“We thought we were clear. Thought if we just left, that would be it. We’d be on our own and free of the skulk. But Ragan’s mate came looking for her. Hunted her down like prey. Beat her all to hell for leaving and taking his young with her. That was when we realized we needed a new plan. We needed another family group. Wolves, because they treat their females as equals, and love them better than they love themselves. We worked our asses off to buy a few bikes, found someone who knew a thing about dirt tracks, and set out to make ourselves valuable.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “I hope it wasn’t all for nothing.”

Aaron was silent as they carried on down the highway, nearing the DTD clubhouse. He was so rigid she wanted to reach out and touch him just to make sure he was still warm and breathing.

“What happened to Ragan’s bastard mate?” he growled.

“We… took care of him. And ran some more. Ran until we found Mac.”

Took care of him was really the best way of putting it. There was nothing left of him when their foxes were done.

“Good,” he rasped. “Good. Men like that don’t deserve to breathe air.”

Lexington nodded her agreement. The memory of Ragan, bloody and torn on the floor while baby Kit screamed from the little nest she’d made for him on the bed was something she’d never scrub from her mind.

But somehow, she felt lighter having aired all her sordid past. Aaron knew it all now. The entire reason she was here in Cedar Valley, and why the Dirt Track Dogs were so important to her.

Aaron reached across the bench seat and the hillbilly drink holder hole to where her hand was resting on the thread-worn upholstery. Tentatively he touched his fingertips to the back, almost like he was asking permission. But then he pulled away, yanking his hand back so fast she would have laughed had it not been so… disappointing.

Inside, her fox whimpered, and Lexington swallowed hard at the lump in her throat.

She stared at his profile as he shook his head. “Not right,” he muttered, and her heart took a dive to her feet.

“Not right? What’s not right?”

“Me, touching you right now. When I’m so angry. When I want to hurt things. It’s not right.”

“Oh.” She really wanted him to touch her. It seemed like every time he did, those ancient wounds from her past ached a little less.

“To think of how close I came to…” He shook his head, frustrated.

“To what?”

He met her eyes across the seat. “To never being here, in this truck with you. I think of all the ways things could have gone differently. What if you hadn’t run, hadn’t fought, hadn’t succeeded? You wouldn’t have ended up in Red Cap the same night I did. Wouldn’t have rode in my truck out to DTD. Wouldn’t have tried to walk back to town while ripping my heart out with your tears.” He clenched his jaw, but she got the feeling he had more to say. And with a fuck-it shake of his head, he let her have the rest. “We wouldn’t be bonding right now.”

Bonding. So he knew what she’d been trying to ignore.

She held her breath for what he’d say next.

But he didn’t say anything. Instead, an odd calm swept over him. One she could see physically, wiping all the tension from his face, his neck, his shoulders. Even his white knuckle grip turned pink again, and his breath seeming to come easier.

His expression eased, like he’d just realized something amazing. “It’s the same for me,” he murmured under his breath, but she heard.

“What do you mean?”

“Fate,” he said, sounding awed. “It’s real. It’s a goddamn thing. That shit is real. Certain events, heartbreaks, trials… they sent me away from Cedar Valley. But certain things also brought me back. And that’s why I was sitting in the bar when you showed up.”

Fate. She believed in fate. Mostly that you could choose your own if you were real careful. She’d fought to be able to choose hers, but maybe he was right. Maybe their steps were ordered.

“There was someone else,” Aaron said carefully.

His words chilled her. But he said was. There was someone. Not is. Not currently. She clung to that, still raw from her confession and hearing about his loss.

She focused on the scenery outside her window. The trees were full and green. Teeming with life. She wanted the same for herself and the others. Life that was full and worth living. Was that so much to ask for? And she wanted it with Aaron.

“Back in Memphis,” he continued. “I never resolved things with her. It just… ended.”

Lexington took a deep breath and turned back to him, keeping her expression as neutral as possible. But Aaron was frowning hard like he’d expected more reaction from her. What exactly was he expecting? Inside, her fox was reeling in denial.

Mine, mine, mine. My human.

She couldn’t afford to look weak right now, while they were minutes away from the club where one of her vixens was being held. She had to be strong. Had to find that backbone of steel she’d been growing ever since she’d led her vixens away from their dangerous skulk. She needed to end this conversation fast, before her heart and animal lost nerve.

“I understand,” she said quietly, but this only made his frown deeper, the lines on his brow creeping into his hairline.

Even though they were sparkly new, it was hard knowing her mate had loved another before her. She’d never felt romantic love for anyone else and wouldn’t ever. Her heart was meant for him, but him being human meant... it meant… he could give his to whomever he wanted. Maybe it would be her. Maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it would be the someone he spoke of now. Maybe he’d already given it away and that’s what he was trying to say.

She cleared her throat and pulled her gaze away to focus on the road. No time for this. No time for falling in love. Focus on the goal. Focus on the vixens.

She’d come here for them, and found Aaron along the way. He’d been a sweet distraction, when she wanted more. But it was time to put that aside.

She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she stared ahead at the road and breathed in Aaron’s scent that filled the truck. She let it calm her a smidge. Things were bleak but they weren’t twenty story buildings crashing down in a heap of rubble.

A phantom smile worked its way up her lips.

She had everything she needed. She had her girls and Kit. Whether things worked out with the dogs or not, whether she mated or not, she always had them, and they always found a way over their hurdles.

Always.

Moto 101: When life gives you dirt, build a jump.

Yes, she had everything she needed. She rubbed absently at the ache in her middle.

Except mine, her fox whimpered. Except him.