“I’m not good at being friends,” he said softly, breaking contact but not pulling back. My hammering heart appreciated the move, but my tingling skin felt bereft. “I struggle with the boundaries of friendship.”
It was good to know I wasn’t the only one struggling. I swallowed and dropped my hands.
“What boundaries?” As soon as I said it, I knew the answer because something in his gaze told me he wanted my hands back where they were.
“Friends don’t get this close. They don’t touch each other like I just touched you. And I really want to be that close.”
I wanted that, too. Especially when he whispered it near my ear.
“What else?” I couldn’t believe I asked.
“You’ll have to let me know,” he said, reluctantly retreating. “You set the boundaries.”
He turned away from me and walked to the island. I wanted him back, crowding me. Stupid friendship talk. If I had more courage, I would tell him I wanted to be more than friends. But what did more than friends mean in the wolf-world? If I was the one setting the boundaries that defined our relationship, I needed to know the answer. Because I didn’t, I said nothing.
Emmitt stood there a moment until the shaking stopped then he sat down. I joined him and slowly started to eat my food.
He’d answered my question about our relationship. But sometimes, knowing an answer was worse than dwelling on the question.
* * * *
The kids stayed downstairs with Nana all morning. After we cleaned up breakfast, Emmitt stepped out. I used the time to research stocks.
The Sunday before, after witnessing the video, I hadn’t cared enough to explain the tip I handed to Nana. She hadn’t asked, either. This week I planned to be prepared, again. The boring work drove me to distraction. I knew some people loved it. Richard had. But, it wasn’t my thing.
Rain continuously pattered against the roof, keeping me company. When Nana knocked on my open door near lunch, I willingly pushed aside my work.
“Do you have a moment?” she asked politely.
“Lots of them. What’s up?”
She stepped in and took a seat next to me at the kitchen island.
“Emmitt’s watching the boys while they color. I wanted to come up and let you know that I put out a call stating the person responsible for Richard’s death should step forward immediately. No one has, yet.”
My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a stab of fear. “How long will it take?”
“That’s the problem. A response should have been immediate.”
I shrugged slightly, not understanding.
“Our society has rules and laws like any other. They differ from human laws, not just in the message but in our people’s inability to break them. When an Elder like me speaks a law, it’s implanted in our kind as a restriction. Because of that, our laws are few and well thought out. At least, we believe them to be. The rules are easy to break, but the repercussions are impossible to ignore.
“For example, one of our laws forbids the forced Claiming of a human. A rule states not to kill humans. We made the first one a law—unbreakable—because we could see no circumstance in which we could ever conceive applicable exception to warrant the act. However, self-preservation must be considered before passing a law forbidding the death of another. We made it a law that anyone responsible for breaking the rule, or a witness to the breaking of the rule, must admit the deed to an Elder.
“The same applies to shifting in public. Our rules state it shouldn’t be done, while our law states that any who break the rule, or know of the rule being broken, must step forward.”
“Someone should have come to you a month ago,” I said, understanding.
She nodded.
We sat in silence for a bit, lost in our own thoughts. Had Blake done the killing himself or one of his men? Did it really matter? Either way, Blake had to have known. He should have stepped forward.
“Can you tell me where Blake kept you? We need to find him to figure out how he’s avoided us.”
I shook my head before she finished. Richard’s address wasn’t yet posted in any article I’d read online. Blake would piece it together if werewolves suddenly showed up at our old home. I wouldn’t compromise the safety of Liam and Aden so Nana could find some errant werewolves.
She patted my hand. “I understand your reason for saying no. Just think about it.” She stood and left.
The day had started out so well. With a sigh, I went back to my research.
A little while later, I heard a tap on the door leading to the porch. Emmitt motioned to me through the glass.
I stood with a wince because of sitting too long, unlocked the door, and stepped out onto the porch with him. The overhanging roof protected us from the rain while lulling us with the soothing patter. Behind Emmitt, a small patio table with two chairs sat near his kitchen door. Two plates and two glasses waited.
“Hungry?” he asked as I took in what he’d done for me. I nodded, and he went to hold out a chair for me. “I heard what Nana said.”
“I have premonitions.” The randomness of my confession made me cringe. I’d decided that I needed to trust someone, that I couldn’t keep going on so alone, but I hadn’t decided how to tell him.
“Did you see what happens if you give us your old address?” he asked without pausing.
I blinked at his easy acceptance of my secret.
“No, I don’t have those kinds of premonitions. The stock market.” His brows rose. “I know, not very interesting. But think of what you could gain by controlling someone with my ability. The money. Power.”
“I don’t want money or power. Just you.”
His words made my heart flutter, and brought back the memory of his lips on my neck. I blushed and pushed the memory aside.
“Blake’s tasted that power. If your laws can’t control him, what makes you think finding him will help? All it does is expose us. He will go straight for Liam and Aden. Through them, he can control me again.”
He remained quiet for a moment. “Nana won’t ask again,” he said seriously. Then, in a Jim-like way, he grinned and said, “Want to spike your tea?”
I heard Nana yell his name two stories below and shook my head, breathing a sigh of relief. I’d shared my secret, and he didn’t appear to care about it one way or the other. I was halfway through my turkey sandwich when he asked his next question.
“Why did you tell Sam which stock to invest in? Why not just keep it to yourself?”
My appetite fled. By sharing my last secret, I’d officially crossed the all-or-nothing line. I needed to spill the rest. I placed my half-eaten sandwich on his plate before I answered.
“I don’t have a choice. The information comes to me every seven days. It plays in my head like a market ticker but with just one stock on repeat. If I don’t share the information, it makes me twitchy. The longer I hold it, the more painful it becomes until I’m a mess. Blake figured that out. It became another way for him to control me. I have to share the information with someone. As soon as I do, the countdown to the next premonition resets.”
“And that’s why you didn’t want to tell me.” He schooled his features and nudged my glass. “Drink.”
I did without questioning it. The cool tea soothed my worry-tightened throat.
“There’s more,” I said.
He continued eating but kept his focus on me.
“I told you a little about what Blake said the night before I ran. That he wanted me to bite one of his men. Before that, he talked about evolving my abilities. When you asked if I saw what would happen, I meant it. I don’t have those kinds of visions. But since coming here, something has changed. I’ve gotten glimpses of people. Girls like me, mostly. I don’t know why. Those visions don’t work like the stock ones. They don’t repeat.”