Page 23 of Never Tamed
“Of course I have a phone. There are too few of us for me to stop worrying. But the deltas have it in check. It doesn’t look like Catarina or Andras know about the camp yet. And it doesn’t look like they’ve got a tracer on this burner.”
Mathis pauses, clears his throat, a muscle at his temple ticking.
“Don’t worry about a thing, sweetheart,” he tells me. “We’re going to take care of this.”
I shake my head and immediately regret it. “Not alone.”
We will have to work together. Even Torin, who conveniently decided to flake out on us, like he couldn’t stand to be trapped in the shipping container with me.
“Go on,” Noble urges with a gentle push. “You know you want to talk to him.”
“I’m too transparent,” I grumble.
“No, we’re just in this with you. The mate bond connects us and you’re not going to rest easily until you have this out,” Mathis clarifies.
Have it out? Is that what I’m about to do? My stomach clenches.
There’s no judgment in his tone. No matter what he might have felt for the Steel Claws or their leader in the past—
Things are changing. Twisting and warping into this new creation where no one knows exactly where they stand and I’m at the center of it. I don’t want to be the one that keeps it all together. I want to be the one who worries about what type of tequila to bring to girls’ night or if my tips are going to be able to cover my rent and the upgrades to my car.
Those days are long behind me.
Noble chuckles in my head as Mathis growls.You never have to work for change again, he tells me. Now go.
It’s not Rudy’s that I miss. It’s the safety in the known even if the known is pretty shitty.
I struggle to rise and pause halfway with my palm pressed flat on the container’s wall. Once I have my feet under me, I straighten.
Torin is out there. The darkness and the distance don’t matter anymore. I guess I always half suspected there was some kind of connection between us, since I couldn’t get him out of my head no matter how I tried, or how he treated me.
No matter how he forced me to my knees.
There’salwaysbeen something between us and I knew it the first time I saw him. Crawling to him, calling him Sir, it was another kind of game between us. His rules, sure, but that’s not always going to be the case. Maybe I knew that, too, somewhere in my head.
I follow the mate bond away from the shipping container, past the pacing Dax who pauses only long enough to grab me in a hasty kiss before shoving me away from him. He tastes like coppery blood and desperation.
For a split second, I’m torn. But Dax waves me away, the tough guy in motion, and I head out.
The gloom sharpens as my eyes adjust. The bay faces the sun and within the hour, it will cut through the shadows.
My wobbly legs bark in protest and the wound on my side tweaks.
I’ve gotten used to healing quickly. But I guess nearly being gutted is another level of healing. It requires more and my stomach growls in protest. I have to eat.
I have to find Torin.
A similar kind of desperation to Dax’s pulses inside of me.
I give a sharp tug on the bond to see if Torin reacts but there is nothing but solid resignation from his end. Following it takes me to the end of the dock.
He perches on the edge with his legs dangled over the side. In stolen clothes, he’s just another attractive dude. I pull up short.
No. He’ll never be like everyone else.
I’ve gotten used to seeing him in his habitual suit and ties with every hair in place. He’s tidy. Controlled to a fault. His hair, normally pulled back in a tie at the nape of his neck, is now loose and wavy around his face, falling over his shoulders.
He doesn’t move at my approach but his shoulders tense and his breath catches.
