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Graham wasn’t sure what made him tell Alice about school, about losing his father. He hadn’t intended to, not really.
He was just... so tired of trying to hide it all.
Her hazel eyes were a safe place, a haven forever.
Even if she said she didn’t want forever.
They gazed at each other a long moment, and Alice looked down first. Graham waited for her to make an excuse and flee, and was surprised when she didn’t. She sat backwards on a beat-up chair and Graham settled opposite from her on a workout bench.
“My brother and I went to public school,” Alice said quietly. “But kids are kids, and they can be pretty cruel. No one messed with me, but I had to bloody a few noses for my brother. I never learned... real fighting. Just a little schoolyard scrapping. But I was bigger and stronger than other kids, even before I could shift, and I didn’t have to do it much.”
Graham wondered if this the was the place normal people made conversational noises and was glad when Alice went on without prompting.
“My brother, Andy... he’s not a shifter. If he had been...” Alice’s face was complicated.
Everything about Alice was complicated, however hard she tried to deny it.
After a moment, she lifted her chin. “We’re being honest. My brother is sick. Really sick. He hasn’t been able to work, doesn’t have insurance to cover treatment, doesn’t want my parents to know, even if they had any money. My parents are about to lose their house. And they don’t want Andy to know. So... I’m stuck in the middle and a teacher’s salary barely covers my food and the rent for my crappy apartment, so there’s nothing I can do to help either of them.”
Graham wasn’t sure what the right response was, but “Shit,” seemed as appropriate as anything.
“Sorry,” she said, blinking hard to pretend she wasn’t crying. “That’s probably a little too much honesty for what we have. I just... haven’t had anyone I could tell.”
“Can I... help?” Graham had to ask, resisting the desire to pull her into his arms without asking.
Alice’s mouth quirked into a wry smile; even crying, she was impossibly good looking, her face all proud planes and sun-kissed skin.
“I don’t suppose you know what Scarlet’s shift is?” she said, clearly expecting him to take it as a joke.
It wasn’t a joke. Graham knew he was scowling, and hoped he had gotten the expression in place before Alice saw the underlying surprise and fear.
“How would that help?” he asked curtly, forcing his body to stay relaxed.
Alice didn’t seem to notice the effect of her unexpected words, busy wiping her face and pulling herself back together. “It’s crazy. Right before I left to come here, this... guy came to see me. Some big shot in an amazing suit. Mob, maybe? I don’t know. No Godfather accent or anything. He gave me a business card with a number and a name, nothing else. He knew every tiny detail of my life and he offered to pay me fifty million to find out what Scarlet was. And craziest of all, I actually believe he would.” She gave a wry chuckle. “Not that I have a chance in hell of cracking that egg. It’s been dead-end after dead-end, and Scarlet probably thinks I’m stalking her. Or maybe flirting with her. It’s been awkward.”
Graham gave a gruff laugh a little too late to sound completely natural.
He was alarmed.
Deeply alarmed.
He needed to warn Scarlet...
“Don’t tell anyone, okay? It’s not the kind of thing I really want to explain.”
Graham felt his stomach churn as his loyalties clashed. He couldn’t refuse his mate’s request; the weight of his lion’s insistence that they honor her trust was like having the heavy bag on his shoulders, but with claws. But Scarlet should know... he owed her, and that weight felt equal, but with claws of guilt.
Alice was looking at him again, that way that she got, that Graham sometimes felt in his own face, like she couldn’t help looking at him, like she wanted to look away but couldn’t.
He couldn’t deny his mate.
“Yeah,” he said shortly, sealing his fate.
The relief on her face was the barest salve to the fire of his guilt.
He stood up abruptly and wasn’t sure what to say. To his gratitude, Alice stood too. “Thanks,” she said shyly. “I mean... for that, and... I’m glad we’re being honest, you know. It’s nice to have someone... I trust.”
Shy gave Alice a whole level of appeal. She usually blustered through things with a cow-catcher of confidence that Graham was beginning to understand was just a facade.
And while her strength and competence was incredibly sexy and hot, it was her vulnerability, her weakness, that did something unexpected to Graham’s insides.
“I... want to be,” Graham said, then got himself tangled around the grammar. “Be someone you trust, I mean....”
But don’t, he wanted to add. Don’t trust me. Don’t have faith in me. Don’t believe the best of me, because it’s all a lie. You were right to run...
He should tell her the rest of his story, he thought, but he couldn’t get the words from his mouth. He knew what she would do, and he wouldn’t be able to bear her reaction. She’d be horrified. She’d be disgusted.
She’d be afraid.
Right now, she wasn’t afraid, she was looking at him with unexpected softness and thoughtfulness.
Before Graham could figure out how to tell her the rest of what he wanted to, Alice cleared her throat uncomfortably, balled up a fist and punched him in the arm. “Anyway, thanks,” she said cheerfully, not quite looking at him. “Good workout.”
And just like that, she was gone.
Graham rubbed his face and threaded his fingers through his unruly hair.
For someone who wanted to keep things uncomplicated, she certainly set him on a roller coaster of emotions.
He wasn’t sure how long he sat there before the phone in his pocket buzzed. Scarlet had given it to him so that she had a legitimate way to contact him, and he took it out expecting a text from her.
The number was unknown, but Graham knew who it was immediately by the content of the text:
PEOPLE ARE SNIFFING. $1000 TO KEEP QUIET.