She slips her hair tie off of her wrist and pulls her hair into a ponytail to get it off of her neck as the heat starts taking a toll, her cheeks tinting red between the weather and her tirade. “Look at me and what do you see?” When none of us answer, she scoffs. “Exactly. That macho, intimidating bullshit might work for men, but not for most women. We’re either prey, or a challenge; there are plenty of men that fighting back would just excite them more and escalate things. And if we manage to kick a guy’s ass for bothering us? We’re suddenly ‘crazy bitches’, and it only serves to piss them off,notmake them look at us with respect or fear like you think.”
Her voice rises with her vehemence. “They don’t just move on, either. Plenty of them become obsessed with the idea of getting revenge, of regaining their power by putting us ‘back in our places’. They stalk us to work, follow us home, and wait for a chance to jump us with some of their friends so they can beat the shit out of us or rape us.”
Her violet eyes are hard enough to cut diamonds as she glares, trying to drive the point through our thick, oblivious skulls. “I wish it were as easy as punching someone in the throat and them leaving me alone because they were scared of me, but that’s just not the world we live in. So excuse the fuck out of me for trying to keep a situation from escalating by suffering through some lewd jokes and offering placating smiles while subtly making my way to a safer place. Stabbing your problems in the face might work for you three, but I don’t get that same luxury, so maybe skip the lecture unless by some miracle, I magically wake up with fangs.”
Releasing Stryker’s hand, she storms off towards the truck, leaving the three of us behind in awkward silence. I’ve never stopped to think about any of that before, because... why would I? It’s a problem that’s never affected me, never had to give any thought to, until Risa brought it up. And now that the double standard’s been brought to light, my mind starts wandering, trying to figure out what else I’ve been woefully oblivious to my entire life.
I condemned that stranger inside for ignoring an unknown woman’s suffering, but aren’t I just as guilty? The only reason I was even pissed is because it had to do with the woman I’m in love with, otherwise it never would have crossed my mind. How many people have I passed on the street that were mentally screaming for someone to notice them, for anyone to care that they were slowly dying, barely able to breathe through the pain?
How many people have I stood next to, thinking I was utterly alone in my suffering, only for them to feel exactly the same?
“I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to lock her in the house,” Bane groans. “Everything feels ten times more dangerous than it did five minutes ago, especially since she can’t shift.”
Can’t shift, not hasn’t shiftedyet. At least he’s started to accept it, too.
Stryker’s attention is rapt on Risa’s retreating form that hasn’t once looked back. “No. She’s smart; she knows she comes off as vulnerable, so she’s twisted that into an armor that makes people want to protect her instead of take advantage of it. She’s the sort that would seduce someone so she could slit their throat when their guard is down, knowing she can’t land a hard enough punch when cornered. Honestly, we might want to take a page out of her book instead of going on like we’ve been. Look how well the direct approach worked out with Marcus’ brothers.”
I cringe, unable to argue the point. “Hatred spreads like a cancer if you don’t catch it early; it’s how you end up with grudges passed down through generations. Hell, look how a handful of rabid wolves made the humans turn on all of us, slaughtering us on sight and lumping us all into the category of monsters like we weren’t people anymore. It took decades to get us to the point we’re at now, and even then, it’s only because they think we’re myths, not because they decided to coexist.”
Bane nods absentmindedly, lost in thought and his speech distracted. “Might be better to cut ties and start over, anyway. Everyone in the clearing knows she can’t shift, and the rumors will start spreading. They respect what we’re capable of, but that doesn’t equate to loyalty. And if anyone we’ve pissed off over the years wants revenge, they’ll realize Risa’s the perfect way to get it. Our reputation is the only thing that might keep her safe at this point.”
I hold up the keys. “Come on, she’s going to get even more pissed off when she’s left standing outside of the truck having to wait for us. We can sit down after dinner and figure out a long-term plan, but decisions made in the heat of the moment never seem to end well.”
A bit of amusement creeps into Stryker’s tone as he boasts, “I beg to differ. Biting Risa was the best thing I ever did.”
***
Bane slams on the brakesand I toss an arm out across Risa’s chest as we lurch forward in the backseat. Kayla’s long, blonde hair is a windswept mess obscuring her face as she bends over to clutch her knees, catching her breath. Rising up, she approaches Stryker’s window that he’s rolling down, chest rising and falling heavily with a fearful look on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Stryker asks, hand on the buckle of his seat belt.
Kayla’s eyes flit between us all, biting her lower lip before rushing out. “Grayson and Victor. I overheard them talking and hoped that I’d cut you off in time.”
I tilt my head to the side. “Why didn’t you shift then?”
Her eyes meet mine, the harsh afternoon sun brightening their normally dark brown color. “Seemed disrespectful when your mating was so new, and after what happened to Marcus, we’re all trying to be extra careful.”
Bane gets her back on topic. “What were they saying?”
She cringes. “Planning an ambush, got a few others on board. They’re waiting at the drive entrance to the clearing, using the store to stay out of sight. Figured they stood a better shot hitting you there than breaking into your house.”
Stryker’s face becomes devoid of emotion, knowing what we’re going to have to do. It’s a shame, but peace crafted from fear never lasts forever.
Kayla seems to be the only smart one left, trying to spare herself the fate everyone else is setting themselves up for. “I can stay here to keep an eye on your mate so she’s out of the blast zone while you handle it.”
Bane and Stryker start quietly murmuring plans, but after the incident at the store, the thought of leaving Risa alone with anyone other than us is just going to mean my head won’t be concentrated on the fight. “That’s alright, I’ll stay with her. Bane and Stryker and more than capable of handling things without me.”
If I hadn’t been looking for it, I’d have missed the tiny flicker of panic that skates across Kayla’s irises, there and gone in a blink. After the fact she ran all of this way instead of shifting into her fox to get here quicker, when she could have carried her clothes in her mouth, I already had a bad feeling. Since I don’t trust anyone outside of those in this truck, I was willing to concede I was being paranoid.
Before the second strike, that is.
Kayla reaches into her back pocket, and I shove Risa’s head down. “Gun!”
With a curse, Stryker reacts instantly. Instead of going for cover, he snaps his hand out of the open window, grabbing Kayla’s wrist and making the shot go wide. He disarms her easily, tossing the gun to Bane. Releasing her for a fraction of a second, he slams his door open, sending her sprawling.
From this angle, with the door left open as he climbs out, my view is blocked. It doesn’t stop me from envisioning it though; her strangled gasp, Stryker likely stepping on her throat. “I’d ask you how many others were in on this plan,” he purrs, “but I couldn’t trust a word out of your mouth anyway, so I’m not going to bother.”
Kayla manages a wheeze. “Please.”
