“No.” She drifted over to him, leaning against the counter. “I just told him I was someplace safe and that I thought it best to stay away for a while. I don’t want him to have information Slater or anyone else could use against him if things get sticky. The more plausible deniability he has these next few days especially, the safer he’ll be.”
Asher nodded, studying her worried expression. “You and Michael are pretty close, I gather.”
“He’s like a brother to me. We’ve been family to each other for the past eighteen years, since we were both eight years old.”
Eight years old. Asher exhaled a sigh. “Since you lost your mother.”
“Michael and I met later that same year. My mom had been missing for a couple of months by the time child protective services came around to the apartment and took me in as a ward of the state. I bounced through a few group homes and foster situations that year, but nothing stuck. I guess I made sure of that. I kept running away, rebelling even more every time they tried to discipline me. I was, as most everyone put it, difficult.”
Asher felt the corner of his mouth tug in a wry smile. It didn’t take much to imagine a younger version of Naomi, headstrong and angry and independent, balking at the slightest attempts to break or contain her. Here she was, half his size even full-grown yet she’d had more courage as a child than he’d had even as a teen and a young man.
“Where did you finally end up?”
“On the street,” she answered flatly, shrugging. “It was better than anything the state had in mind for me. At least the predators were easier to spot. I’d rather take my chances with the addicts and scumbags living on the street than the monsters who live in nice houses and smile at you as they invite you inside but don’t show their claws until you’ve finally decided to trust them.”
“Is that what happened to you?”
“A few times. But I trust my gut more than I ever trust anyone else, so I always managed to get out of there before the worst could happen.” She glanced at him then, her soft sherry gaze bleak. “Michael had it much worse than me. He had a proper family once, the loving parents, the big house and a dog, the whole white picket fence Utopia. But then on his eighth birthday, he made the mistake of confiding in his mom that he thought he was gay. She told Michael’s dad and instead of having cake and ice cream, his father beat the living shit out of him. It was so bad, Michael had to get his jaw wired shut.”
“Christ,” Asher muttered. His gut churned the way it always did whenever he heard about children being mistreated, and he struggled to find words of comfort.
Naomi swallowed audibly, emotion thick in her voice. “His parents told the doctors and the social worker who came to the hospital that he got in a fight at school. Michael didn’t deny it. He never told anyone the truth. As soon as he was sent home to recuperate, he split and never looked back. We ran into each other later that year. I spotted him trying to lift a wallet off a tourist outside a fast food place. He got caught and the guy’s shout drove him away. I saw where Michael ran to, so after I finessed twenty bucks out of an ATM, I bought a couple of burgers and drinks and brought them to him. We ate together inside a drainage pipe near the highway, and we’ve hardly been apart since.”
Asher studied her, marveling at her fortitude. He even admired her little streak of larceny, considering she’d used it as means of survival and kindness, rather than for her own gain. Even her hits on Slater’s casinos seemed to be done as a means of providing for others more than herself. The problem was her motivation. She wouldn’t be the first person to lose their life because of an insatiable vengeance.
“How does Michael feel about you taking so many chances when it comes to Leo Slater?”
“He doesn’t like it,” she admitted. “He’s been begging me to let it go for a long time.”
“Smart man. I like him already.”
She slanted him a sardonic look. “Anyway, I promised him this last job would be it for me. No more stealing from Slater. We have what need to keep the shelter going for a while, so I’m done with that now.”
Asher narrowed his scrutiny of her, sensing there were things she wasn’t saying. Things she hadn’t promised Michael. “You’re done taking money from Slater, but you’re not finished with him yet. Are you.”
Not a question, but a flat realization.
“I told you, Asher. I have a debt to collect from him. For my mother, for what he did to her and believes he got away with all this time. All the beatings and other abuse she suffered. And, finally, her death.”
“How can you be certain he killed her? People disappear, Naomi. Even mothers sometimes walk away and leave everything behind.”
“Not her.” She shook her head, resolute. “The only thing we had was each other. That is, until Slater came along. He dazzled her with fancy cars and clothing, with promises of a better life—for both of us. But all he did was use her up. He destroyed her, first with the beatings, then with drugs. By the time she disappeared, she was only a husk of the woman my mom had been before she met him.”
“And you want vengeance.”
“That’s right,” she whispered, nodding. “I want to make him suffer. I want to ruin him, and then make sure he understands that it was me all along. I want to make him pay for all the things he’s done, things that can’t be excused or ignored just by greasing someone’s palm or through any of his threats.”
Asher grunted. “It’s understandable, Naomi. I can’t tell you I wouldn’t want the same things if I were you. But you have to realize even if you get your revenge on Slater, the odds of you walking away with your life are slim. Less than slim.”
She shook her head, quietly dismissive. “I don’t care what happens to me.”
“That’s where you and I differ, then. I do care what happens to you.”
As he stared at her, Naomi’s expression softened at those words. It only lasted for an instant. She exhaled and gave him a flippant roll of her eyes. “Right. Because I have a mark under my chin?”
“Yes,” he answered solemnly. “Because you are a Breedmate.”
But there was something more he was feeling too. Something he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge, let alone express. When he thought about keeping Naomi safe, everything lethal and violent in him seemed to take on a deeper meaning.
