1
Lachlan
“I don’t give a shit what you say. She’s the one crying.” An irrational fury spins inside of me as I tug my ball cap down, adjust my sunglasses and drop my duffel on the floor next to my feet, gritting my teeth in an effort to not throat punch the guy sitting in the restaurant booth in front of me.
I’m not known for my temper.
I’m known.
That’s for sure.
Too well known.
I tear my eyes from the space where the auburn-haired angel just disappeared down the back hall of the restaurant. Half of me wants to tear a ragged hole in the back wall and pin her down, but I keep that urge under control for now.
From the moment I saw her, my dick was hard and my heart felt alive. It wasn’t just lust either, it was like I needed to claim her. Confusion and desire race through me but the compulsion to find out who she is and make sure she’s okay is irrevocable.
When I left the bus station earlier today, walking down the main street of this small town, something drew my eye through the window of a local tavern. A customer sitting at a booth adjacent to the window was ranting at a waitress. Throwing his arms around and pointing at the plate in front of him.
When I looked at the angel standing there taking his rage, it was like the earth shifted under my feet.
I saw wide eyes like a spring doe and auburn waves running down over one shoulder as she bit into her lip fear tensing forehead. Her face was completely fresh with a natural pink on her cheeks and lips that looked stained with a fine Cabernet.
She was stunning. Heart stopping. I’d use the word beautiful but it’s not enough. It implies Photoshopped faces in magazines and a certain acceptable symmetry.
No, this girl was more.
She was fire and candy but with a wisdom way beyond her years in wild green eyes that told me more about her than I knew about most people in my life.
And I wondered, do her eyes speak to everyone like that? Or just me?
I needed it to be just me.
One look at her face and there was a click inside of me. I couldn’t stand for anyone to hurt her. For a split second, an image of a wolf and his mate flashed through my mind. Clear as if it was happening right in front of me. Only they weren’t wolves, they were us. The two of us. Together. I shook my head, but it stayed there in an outline, like when you look at the sun.
I was sure I was losing it.
I’m having a breakdown. Walking out on my life, now having visions. Voices are next, I’m sure of it.
After I’d looked at her through the window, I stormed into the restaurant.
Out of the corner of my eye I see what I’m guessing is the owner or manager stomping toward me through empty tables. “Hey, get out! You can’t come in here and harass the customers.” He puffs up his chest and squares off with me and I look down at him with fire in my eyes.
He takes a half step back, which is a smart move.
“The steak is raw! My drink is watered down!” The customer starts up again behind me and I spin around and slap my hand on the wooden tabletop, making the plates and glasses jump.
“I said, I don’t give a shit. You are going to fucking apologize, you’re going to mean it, and you’re going to make sure she knows you mean it. She didn’t cook your fucking food. She didn’t make your drink. Why the hell were you yelling at her?”
I glance toward the back hallway hoping she’ll reappear. My fingertips twitch and there’s a pull toward where she disappeared that I can’t explain.
The manager takes a deep breath and I nod toward the hall. “Go get her.” Then I turn to the customer who looks like he finally realizes this is not a game he’s going to win. “When she comes out, you’re going to apologize. If you have a beef about your shitty steak and Martini, you take it up with him.” I jerk my head toward the manager. “Not some poor girl who is just trying to do her job and has zero responsibility for the fucked up mess in front of you. We clear, gentlemen?”
I shoot a glance at them both through my sunglasses. The manager looks like he’s about to say something, but his common sense must get the better of him because they both give me a reluctant nod. I rap my knuckles on the tabletop and bite into my bottom lip, giving the manager a look of impatience.
With a final huff, he turns and heads down the hall as I step back, kick my duffel back along with me and take a seat at an empty table to wait. The wolf image spins around in my head again and I realize my heart beat feels like a hammer against my sternum. But it’s not just the wolves. It’s the other vision I had along with it.