“Thanks for thinking of them. We miss them, too.”
He sucked in his cheeks and fought against the sudden swell of emotions threatening to overcome him. It was times like these when the loss of his folks came rushing back. They’d been as good of parents as any kid could ask for. They’d raised Ashley and him well, with a strong sense of right and wrong and a simple kind of love that he took for granted during his childhood.
He didn’t have long to consider his loss. As Shep returned to his shopping, he felt the strong sensation of being watched. Glancing at the end of the checkout line, he found the source of his discomfort. Reggie and Colt Wilson were glaring at him as if they’d like nothing better than to smash in his face with their fists.
He groaned inwardly and turned toward the front, determined to avoid a confrontation today. He couldn’t imagine what Stasia would say if he arrived at the interview with a fresh black eye. She’d probably stick around another week just to give it time to heal and then he’d really be in trouble. The sooner she left, the sooner he could forget about her.
After paying for his purchase and rushing out of the store, he threw his truck in drive and high-tailed it down Main Street to the Molodoy motel. A familiar figure stood outside one of the rooms, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail and one hand on her waist.
Stasia looked about ready to burst. From excitement or nervousness, he couldn’t tell. But her eyes had grown to the size of tires and a pink flush covered the bare part of her upper chest and neck.
“Finally,” she said, bouncing to his door. She did a quick scan of his outfit and nodded approvingly. “You wore the outfit that I bought.”
He shifted uncomfortably in the light green pearl snap shirt and jeans. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them, but the idea that Stasia had picked them out with him in mind made him a little nervous. She’d said it complemented his eyes and that it would pop on camera.
“Let’s just get this over with, okay?” He swallowed hard and tried not to stare at the way her skinny jeans hugged her rear end. “The Chevelle’s coming along, but I’ve got a lot more work to do.”
“Alright, come on in.” She waved him toward her room. “I’m ready for you.”
He followed her to the door and hesitated. Being alone in a motel room with Stasia was the last place he’d ever expected to be. The very thought sent an unbidden thrill through him.
“Don’t worry, my guys are here, too,” she said, scanning his face.
“Oh, right.” He chuckled nervously.
Of course, they wouldn’t be alone. That had been ridiculous of him.
The inside of her room looked very much the way a motel room should. A box TV on an old dresser. A nightstand, phone, and mirror. The bed had been moved to one side and in the empty space, a small corner had been decorated with three potted plants, two chic chairs, light stands, and two cameras on tripods. Maxim waved a greeting from the edge of the messy bed and a large man with a shiny bald head grunted hello from behind a camera.
“You remember my brother,” Stasia said with a smile. “And this is my cameraman, Vinny.”
Billy nodded nervously at them both. He hadn’t been worried about the actual filming of the interview until he got a look at the bright lights and cameras. How was he supposed to keep his story straight if he felt like an insect under the microscope? He might say anything. He might even confess to a murder he didn’t commit. That would really make Stasia’s day.
“Shall we?” Stasia pointed to one of the chairs. “Have a seat.”
He sat and fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt. The lights were even warmer than he’d imagined and the camera lenses resembled giant bug eyes, staring down at him.
“Don’t think about the cameras.”
Stasia sat across from him and crossed her legs. She smiled sweetly, tilting her head to one side. He couldn’t help but notice the small amount of makeup she’d donned for the occasion. A touch of cherry lipstick that made him crave a taste of her lips.
She gave him another smile and shrugged. “Just keep your eyes on me. Easy.”
Billy grimaced and gripped the top of his legs. Nothing about that was going to be easy.
Maxim went about fitting them each with a microphone and Vinny did a few camera adjustments. Within minutes, they were ready to go and Stasia was beaming with excitement.
“Ready, Vinny?” she asked.
He grunted something unintelligible that she must’ve taken for confirmation.
“Alright.” She glanced down at her notes and then back up at Billy. “Billy Finley, can you tell me what brought you to Alaska?”
His head spun as if he’d just sucked in a balloon full of helium. Still, he kept his eyes glued to Stasia’s honey-brown ones. The cameras seemed to melt away and he felt himself drawn into a world where just the two of them existed. His head stopped spinning and the strength returned to his tongue.
“Well, my father had an old friend in the Sitka werewolf pack...”
He went on to explain how he’d found himself in Alaska, the state of the dwindling werewolf pack, and how he’d taken advantage of those first few months to implement new training regiments for the able-bodied werewolves. Stasia listened to him intently, interrupting only a time or two for clarification.