Chapter Four: Bad Man

Grant

There was a chill in the air when I walked out of the rinky-dink small town police station. It was the second time I ever walked in there of my own volition, and I hated the way everyone’s eyes lingered on me—especially the sheriff.

As far as he was concerned, I was still that same fourteen year old boy who used to break into the local convenience store after closing to steal snacks and shitty cheap beer with my brother.

River had cleaned himself up, became a model citizen for Alex’s sake. As far as the village was concerned, the wrong Hawthorne brother had died, even if the police knew I hadn’t had a drop to drink the night we had our accident.

And I agreed with them.

I dropped off the hoodie and filed an official report about the attempted kidnapping, just like I promised Alex I would, but not before taking a good, long whiff of that hoodie’s stench for myself.

That piece of shit was in for a world of hurt if I ever smelled him around the village again. He was scared enough when he thought I was just a big man, but if I got my hands on him, I’d be tempted to introduce him to the beast inside.

Even before the curse, this wasn’t the kind of thing that I’d let slide without a fight. If River were still alive I would have beaten the dirtbag to death right then and there, and we would have had one less child-hurting scumbag in the world. But now that I was Alex’s sole guardian I couldn’t risk the prison time.

I had to be careful to keep it out of the public eye, but with this curse I had the nose to track the fucker if he dared set foot in my territory again.

Rolling my shoulders, I pushed down the excitement my wolf felt at the prospect of being let out to play.

This was one of the rare mornings I had to spend in town. Normally, I’d spend the better part of my days alone in the woods, cutting lumber for the local mill, but one of my saws busted on me yesterday, so now I had to make a pitstop at the hardware store to pick up a replacement.

The cashier nodded to me as I walked in, but I ignored him, making a bee-line for the tools section. My wolf had been on high alert since my run in with Deidre last night, so it was best to minimize my contact with people until I found a more permanent way to calm him down.

I didn’t think much of it when I heard the bells ringing above the front door, but then her scent hit me, wafting in on the early autumn breeze like smoke from a bonfire.

My breathing quickened, and I felt my mouth begin to salivate as the wolf in me pulled toward her like a dog on a chain.

Taking a quick glance around, I pulled my flask out of my jacket pocket, sneaking a sip, pretending I couldn’t see the judgmental eyes of one of the moms from Alex’s school.

It didn’t used to sting when people looked at me like shit under their shoe. I was used to it after growing up as Pete Hawthorne’s son. No one ever expected me to be any better than I was, so I didn’t care about trying.

Not until last year, at any rate.

Now, I had Alex to worry about. I knew what the other parents thought of me, the kind of shit they told their kids about who I was and the shady shit I used to get up to . . . Most of it was true, but that didn’t mean Alex needed to hear about it.

When I lowered my flask, I stumbled backward in surprise when I was met by a pair of silver eyes and a coy smile.

“Good stuff?” She asked, her eyes flitting to my liquor as I tucked it into my jacket.

“Can I help you?” I grunted, forcing a sneer to my face.

Usually I didn’t have to work so hard to look unapproachable, but the damn beast inside of me was practically wagging its tail at the sight of her, let alone the fact that she was paying attention to me.

Being this close to her was damn dangerous, and she didn’t even know it.

“That depends, do you know anything about patching floorboards?” She smiled sheepishly, making my traitor heart skip a beat.

“Of course I do,” I huffed, turning away from her hypnotic gaze, though I could still feel her eyes on me.

Being rude to her wouldn’t have been my first choice, but I knew what she was going to ask, and there was no way in hell I could risk being alone with her.

Even if she was just asking for help now, I could sense the interest lingering behind her words.

She was at the hardware store because she planned to do the repair herself—there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that asking me was just an excuse to get to know me better.

If it weren’t for this fucking curse, I would’ve jumped at the chance.

“Would you . . . be willing to help me sometime?” There was an uncertainty to her voice, like this conversation was a bomb she was trying to diffuse.

“Nope.”

I tried to walk away, to escape her smokey aroma, but she followed, undeterred by my very apparent lack of interest in the conversation. “Are you always this much of a jerk?”

Stopping on a dime, I spun on my heel, almost causing her to crash into me as I leaned down into her personal space. “Yes. I am. Now get the hell out of my way.”

She stared up at me like she was contemplating biting my damn head off, but to her credit and my chagrin, she didn’t give ground, standing toe to toe with me. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Not a damn thing,” I snarled.

My face was barely an inch away from hers, and the beast inside of me yipped and snarled like a caged animal.

It wanted me to grab her, kiss her, take her in my arms and make her mine right here in this hardware store, but nothing the monster inside of me wanted so badly could lead to anything good.

I pushed past her, grabbing the saw and stalking toward the checkout counter as though just brushing up against her didn’t set my soul on fire.

“You’re an asshole,” she called after me, and I could feel the sharpness of her glare.

Without looking back, I raised my middle finger over my shoulder at her. “Yep.”

Onlookers stared openly at our altercation, and I could practically hear the gossip already.

Everyone already knew I was a piece of work, like a dog with a bite worse than his bark, but Deidre was the new girl in town.

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that once they found out she was the Ethel Carey’s granddaughter that there was going to be talk.

Everyone knew how much work River and I used to do for Ethel before River died, so seeing me publicly scream at her estranged granddaughter was going to raise more than a few eyebrows.

I hated driving this wedge between us. Alex would hate it even more when word got back to her—and it would, if the PTA mom watching me from behind the wall of assorted nuts and bolts planned on blabbing to her kid about it.

It wasn’t a good look, jumping down the throat of the woman who saved Alex last night, but it was better for both of us this way. If Deidre kept her distance, I could keep the beast under control, and well . . . she wouldn’t have to deal with having me in her life.

But goddamn it, I wanted her.