Page 34 of Defeated

I didn’t think I was good enough, and even now, those doubts have implanted in my head, and I wonder if I stayed away from finding a place to settle because I didn’t think I was good enough to have it.

Chris is watching me closely. “I won’t ask why you were running, or even why you didn’t come to Winter Lake with Colton, though I’m sure he asked you. Sometimes you can run right into a thing you didn’t know you needed.”

“You mean running into you?” I squint at him, trying to determine exactly what he’s getting at. After that kiss, is he flirting with me? Or is this something else?

His lip quirks in a half smile, and I remember the way he kissed me on the street, and I don’t think I would mind if he wanted to do it again. “Bennett, the Winter Lake beta. We ran into each other in New York.” His lip quirk kicks into a crooked smile, and I’m smiling back before I’m conscious of it. “Well, more like he nearly knocked me down when I was trying to cross a road.”

My eyes pop out. “What?”

His expression is wry as he nods. “New York traffic…”

That’s all he needs to say. I get it.

Expensive apartments chased me away from San Francisco. I lasted a day in the big city, before the noise, sirens and smells chased me out so fast, I barely stopped there long enough to put my bag down.

“He was leaving the city with Mack and asked me to join them.”

“Then you went to Winter Lake, the retirement town?”

He smiles fondly. “Warren and his mate Tina came along, then Penny. Adela too—she used to be a nurse, but she’s retired. Aerin…” His smile fades. “Aerin’s story is not mine to tell, but she found a home with Mack, our alpha. Before Winter Lake, I never settled anywhere for long.”

I’d like to ask about Aerin, because I’m sensing there’s a story there. If it’s a bad one, as I think it is, Chris is right. It isn’t his story to tell, but hers. “And now you have a pack?”

He nods. “Now I have a pack. We made a home for ourselves in Winter Lake and took the name Winters as ours.” He lifts the stuffed toy. “Do you want to take this?”

I eye the prize I’d won for myself at a fair. I’d never admit to it, but it had been… fun.

After years of moving on, of work, of grind, and of hustle, I hadn’t thought I’d been capable of unwinding or having fun.

I’d stumbled into the fair on my third night here and instead of walking on by as I’d done in the past, something had pulled me toward the bright lights, the laughter, and the sweet candy floss wafting in the air. Some intangible thing that I couldn’t ignore.

The fair had been free, so I told myself I’d wander around for a few minutes, then leave. Crowds were dangerous because it would be the easiest thing in the world for a shifter to creep up on me in one.

But I hadn’t left.

I’d wandered from booth to booth, laughing at others playing games and badly losing, absorbing the laughter, and letting it lift the weight from my shoulders.

And then one of the booth owners had asked if I wanted a turn on his ball toss.

“Two dollars,” he’d told me. “And you can pick your prize.”

Two dollars could feed me for a day. It wouldn’t be the most nutritious or filling of foods, but I know how to stretch two dollars.

I’d opened my mouth to say no.

Then I’d seen it. A small blue bear with big, black button eyes that would be perfect to celebrate the tiny studio apartment I’d gotten and the night cleaning job that came with a boss who didn’t pry into my personal life, paid promptly, and didn’t try to grab my ass.

“Yes, I’ll play,” I’d told the man and fished out a couple of precious few notes from my pocket.

The bear would be a reminder of my fresh start. Something I could look at and feel accomplished at this new life I’d built for myself. Sure, it wasn’t much, but in time, I’d buy more, make the apartment prettier and maybe get a better-paying job.

Two days later, the shifters chased me through the streets and made me realize I’d been celebrating too soon. This place isn’t home, and settling anywhere for too long will always be dangerous.

“Zoe?” Chris’s concerned voice punctures my thoughts.

I blink, bringing him back into focus.

He’s still holding the blue bear, offering it to me.

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