But I failed him. Not until years later, but still… I let him down, and whatever horrors he suffered at the hands of the humans is entirely my fault.
What if—No. I can’t deal with this right now.
I force the memories away and concentrate on the feeling of Neil’s hands running through my fur. He pours a few more cups of water over my back, then leans back on his heels.
“I think that’s the best it’s going to get for now,” he says, patting me on the head between my ears. “You ready to get out?”
I stand, careful not to slip on the slick bottom of the tub, and Neil pulls a towel down from the rack and starts rubbing it over my fur. The thin piece of terrycloth doesn’t do a very good job, but once he’s rubbed me down as well as he can, he motions for me to hop out. My paws hit the floor and instinct takes over. I shake out my fur, sending a spray of water all over the floor, the tub, and my mate.
He blinks, then lets out a quiet laugh as he wipes at his face. “I should have expected that, huh?” He glances down at his ragged outfit, now splattered with water and fur and who knows what else. “I guess it’s my turn to get cleaned up now.”
My eyes are glued to him as he starts stripping down to his boxers, leaving his clothes in a pile on the floor. I caught glimpses and hints of his body throughout the events of the evening, but this is the first time I’ve gotten to actually look. He’s on the smaller side—as is typical for an omega—but the lines of his body are enhanced by lean, well-defined muscles. He’s certainly not a gym rat, but he takes care of himself.
He must feel the weight of my gaze on him because he winks, then waggles his brows and pretends to do a little strip tease with his socks. I chuff and poke him in the stomach with my nose.
“That’s cold.” He mimes an exaggerated shiver, then laughs and moves closer to the tub. He pauses, frowning at the mess of fur and dirt my bath left behind. “I think I’m better off sticking with a sink bath.”
I chuff again, the closest to laughter I can come in this form and he grins at me.
“At least it will be quicker.”
He maneuvers around me to get to the sink and splashes some water on his face, then runs his fingers through his hair. He grabs the hand towel sitting on the counter and wets the corner, running the fabric over his chest and arms, scrubbing at spots of dirt and blood until they’re no longer noticeable. Dropping the towel into the sink, he leans up and grabs a can of body spray or somethingon the counter. He takes the cap off, takes a sniff, then wrinkles his nose and puts the can back.
“I’m not interested in smelling like ‘eau de middle-aged frat bro’, so water will have to do,” he says, picking the towel back up and rubbing his underarms.
I’m glad. The only thing my mate should smell like is me.
He stares at himself in the dirty mirror and turns to either side. “I think that’s the best I’m going to be able to do for now.”
Still in only his boxers, he shoos me out of the bathroom and gestures for me to return to the living room while he heads to the back of the trailer where I can hear Raquel moving around. He disappears into the bedroom, and after a brief whispered conversation with his friend, returns a couple minutes later dressed in a T-shirt with a kitten on it that’s just a little too tight and a pair of black skinny jeans.
Noting my amused look, he shrugs. “Raquel’s clothes fit me better than Danny’s, and they’re better than nothing.”
I pad forward and butt my head against his hip until he reaches down to scratch my ears. There’s no way to tell what the future will bring, so, for now, I’m just going to enjoy all the pets I can get.
Fifteen
Neil
Thesunisbeginningto peek over the horizon as we pull out of the trailer park, me behind the wheel of Danny’s truck and Raquel following in her own car. Before we left, Raquel gathered up the money from the coffee can, and I rifled through Danny’s wallet—gruesome, but pragmatic. He’s dead, he doesn’t need it—but I knew the total wouldn’t get us very far. I’m not sure where our final destination is except forfaraway from Vegas, but we’re going to need more funds to make our escape possible.
Not only that, we need the money fast, and none of my regular methods of getting cash are going to work. Doyle almost certainly has his goons looking for us, and the human cops might not be far behind when Danny’s body is discovered. They’ll probably chalkhis death up to an animal attack like they did my dad’s, but that’s not guaranteed. Especially if Doyle has people in the Las Vegas Police Department, which is more probable than not.
So, with very few options, I stole Danny’s truck. Technically. The truck is bigger, more comfortable, and about a decade newer with at least a hundred thousand fewer miles on it than Raquel’s hatchback and, just like his wallet, Danny doesn’t need it anymore.
But we do.
We desperately need money, and now that we have the option of Danny’s truck as an alternate method of transportation, I figured the easiest way to get some cash would be to sell the hatchback for scrap. The independent alpha my mom knew owns a junkyard not too far outside the city limits. Though I haven’t kept in touch, he’s helped me out a couple times in the past, and he’s normally willing to pay half decent money for junk cars.
It’s not a foolproof plan for sure, but it’s the best one I’ve got.
Wolfie is staying out of sight by lying across the front bench seat with his head resting in my lap. His eyes drift closed as soon as we hit the main road and his breaths slow to a steady, comforting rhythm. I have to admit, I’m almost jealous. At this point I’ve been awake for nearly twenty-four hours and a headache pounds behind my eyes. I’m practically counting down the seconds until my head can meet a pillow.
I wouldn’t turn down a long, hot shower either. A sink bath just isn’t the same.
One problem at a time, Neil…
The stoplight ahead turns red, and I slow the truck to a stop, closing my eyes and leaning my head back for a few seconds while I wait for the light to cycle. A horn blares, startling me out of my poorly timed cat nap, and I slam on the gas, shooting through the intersection before registering that the light is still glowing red. There’s no cross-traffic so I avoid a collision, but there’s a flash of light behind me.
