Von was the family pet. “Nookie’s” daughter, the one everyone looked after because her momma simply wasn’t capable. In a family consisting of her momma’s three sisters and four brothers; Nona, her maternal grandmother; and a whole slew of cousins with baby mommas and baby daddies, that was a lot of relatives. She had no idea who her father was but it didn’t matter because her mother’s family more than made up for the lack of a paternal side.
She drifted off to sleep, Ketta’s words replaying in her mind.
Sean wiped sweaty palms on his pants as he confronted the closed door of apartment 4B. He didn’t exactly look his best with his busted lip, blackened eye, and swollen and bloody knuckles. Worst was his stubborn cock that refused to go down. Von would take one look at him and think he came to finish what they started.
Didn’t you?
He ignored the voice and knocked firmly on the door. His first concern was Von. If she wanted to pick up where they left off, well, he wouldn’t complain, providing she wasn’t too upset about what happened. And, he thought dourly, if he could be sure her desire was real and not the result of lycan pheromones.
Inside his enhanced hearing caught a muttered curse and the sound of an interior door being gently closed before quick steps came toward him. “I hope that’s you, Derrick, so I can rip you a new one.”
Both his eyebrows shot up at the bloodthirsty words.
The door snatched open. The woman facing him was definitely not Von. She appeared equally surprised. “You’re not Derrick.”
“No,” he agreed.
She leaned to the side and glanced past him. “Where is he?”
“Unconscious.”
She eyed him up and down, taking in his marred face and hands. He had a feeling nothing about him escaped her notice. “Your handiwork, I assume?”
He gave a brief nod and pushed back his impatience. From the way she leaned against the door jab, she obviously wasn’t letting him inside until she was good and ready. He did a little examining of his own. This woman’s face was a little rounder than Von’s and her complexion darker, but they both shared the same deep, dark, see-right-through-you brown eyes. “You must be Marketta. Von talks about you a lot.”
Marketta brought her arms up and crossed them over her chest, cocked her head to the side, and raised one eyebrow. “And you’re the hunk.”
Hunk? Had Von called him a hunk?
Sean asked the question that was burning a hole in him. “How’s Von?”
“Concussed.”
He cursed and dragged a hand through his hair. So much for his assumption that she was okay. Von had no business leaving Derrick’s, not in her condition. It’s a wonder she hadn’t killed herself driving.
At his reaction, she relented a little. “I gave her some painkiller and an icepack. She’s resting.”
“Can I see her?”
“She doesn’t want to see you,” Marketta said firmly
Taken aback, Sean asked, “Did she say that?”
She bit her lower lip. “No.”
He put his hands on his hips, ready to do battle. “Then how do you—?”
“Look, she’s feeling pretty raw right now. Von’s blaming herself for everything that happened.” Marketta flipped a strand of long, artificially wavy black hair over her shoulder and matched him glare for glare.
“Damn it!” He threw his head back, closed his eyes, and counted to ten, beating back the urge to push his way inside. When he was sure he had control, he opened them to find Marketta watching him warily. “I’m sorry. I had a feeling she was going to do that. It’s one of the reasons I came over.”
“What’s the other?” she asked suspiciously. “You popped her cherry. Hoping for a repeat?” Her gaze dropped down to his zipper.
He growled. Then presented Marketta his back, fists clenched by his sides. He wanted to grab her by the neck and shake her like a rag doll for suggesting such a thing.
Is she wrong? Even now his cock felt like a steel rod in his pants, his beast riding him hard to complete the bonding. Grimly he acknowledged the truth of her words. Choking on misplaced pride, he forced himself to say, “Tell her I came by to check on her and that I’m sorry.”
It took every bit of strength he possessed to turn and head for the stairway.
“Before you go, answer one question.”
He stopped and waited.
“Why’d you come here? Not this apartment, but why are you here?”
“I came for Von,” he admitted. He took another step.
“You’re white,” she called out.
He halted again and looked over his shoulder. “And?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Some folks might have a problem with that.”
“I love her. You really think I give a damn what other people think?”
His hand was on the railing, foot hovering over the first step when she called out again, “You’ll need to wake her every hour, make sure there’s no swelling on the brain. New ice packs every twenty minutes, and alternate cold with heat. For what it’s worth, I think she loves you, too. Don’t blow it.”
Sean turned, unable to believe he’d heard right.
Marketta stepped out into the landing, watching him through narrowed eyes. “Well? You just going to stand there or are you coming inside?”
He slowly returned to the apartment. What was that, a test? If so, he must have passed.
When he drew even with Von’s cousin, she said, “I never really cared for Derrick, but it’s her life, you know? I can’t tell her how to live it. I hear how she talks about you, and how she talks about him. I think you have a chance with her.” She pushed the door wider and motioned for him to go in.
Inside, he stopped in the living room and looked around. The place appeared exactly as he’d imagined it since Von described it in her letters.
Marketta came past him and sat in one of the chairs. Sean followed her lead and settled onto the other. “Thing is,” she continued, “Von’s fighting so hard not to be like her momma that she’s forgetting to be herself. You know what I mean?”
Sean nodded.
“Everything about Aunt Nookie ain’t bad. She made some bad choices and got caught up in some stuff. Momma said Nook always did like to party a little too hard and had to be the center of attention, but Von’s nothing like her momma. Personality, temperament, all completely different, but she can’t see that. I think that’s why she clings so hard to Derrick.”
She pinned him with a look. “If you really love her, be patient. She may need more time than you have to bring her around to your way of thinking. But if you really want her, don’t give up.”
Marketta rose to her feet. Sean stood as well and trailed her to the door. “When she wakes, tell her I had to go.”
“All right.”
“And Sean,” she paused in the open doorway, “you hurt her, I have a bullet with your name on it.” She gently patted the huge purse she had slung over one shoulder before closing the door softly behind her.
Sean blew out a breath. Von always said Marketta was protective of her. He wondered if Hooch had any idea of exactly what Von’s family was capable of when it came to her safety?
Now that Marketta was gone, Sean took a longer, more leisurely look around Von’s living space. The front door opened right into a small living room with the standard white walls and neutral carpet. Von’s living room set was one of those light blue, overstuffed sets covered in soft material with brown and blue pillows in some sort of design. A glass rectangular coffee table with wrought iron legs sat in the middle of the grouping.