Page 11 of Fastlander Fealty

If she didn’t respond to him right away though, she would see that icon moving toward her in the tracking application though, and that was the fear right now. She wanted him to stay where he was, and give her space. It was likely the last time she would ever have space again.

She’d sprung for the nice cabin in case she invited Captain over here. Rook had encouraged the purchase after he’d told her, “Men don’t like fucking poor bitches.” She was pretty sure that wasn’t true. Men fucked whatever.

She inhaled deep and opened her eyes, carried her glass of red over to the table where her phone sat, and she poked the screen to wake it up.

She’d expected Rook’s name to come up, but it was an unknown number instead.

Hello, mystery girl.

Her heart thumped harder against her breast bone, and she rushed to sit on the couch and set down her glass. She pulled the phone up and typed out, Who is this? Send.

It would be Captain. She knew it. She’d given him her number. Her plan was working.

A little ping of something dark touched her stomach. She wished it was Owen. He’d been genuine when he’d warned her against Captain. He cared about himself too much to treat a woman well. There had been truth in Owen’s tone. And sure, she wasn’t here for a long-term relationship or anything. She would likely watch Captain die at some point. But she’d appreciated Owen giving her the warning, like she was the type of woman who deserved to be treated well.

It had meant something to her.

Get any more autographs today, or is mine still the only one in your book?

Oh, now her heart was racing! She sat up straighter. Owen? Send.

The one and only. Disappointed?

No! Send. Not at all. How did you get my number? Send.

Memorized it when you gave it to Captain Asshole.

She laughed at the nickname, and the sound of it startled her. Silver hadn’t heard that noise from herself in a while. Her hands trembled as she typed. How is your night going? Send. It felt easier to text than to talk to him in person.

Rough. Got in a fight with a couple of my Crew. A picture came through of a bloody towel on a bathroom floor.

Oh my gosh! Why? Are you okay? Send.

We always fight. It’s no big deal.

And she got that. Prides fought a lot too, and especially the males. Ranks changed constantly.

How is your night? He asked.

Fine. Delete, delete, delete. She lifted her phone and took a picture of the glass of wine with the fireplace in the background. Send.

Looks peaceful.

A smile took her lips and she took a sip of her wine and relaxed back into the deep couch cushions. Peaceful. Yeah. I used to pray for moments like these. Her finger hovered over the send button. That was allowing him to see something too deep, but this felt safe. This was the job, right? Kind of? Let him see parts of her and gain his trust, so he would share too? Send.

Me too. Hell, I would still be praying for it but I’m in a new Crew. It’ll never happen now.

I’m guessing you’re from a big family? Send.

Fourteen siblings. My parents bred like hogs.

She smiled again. She knew he was a boar shifter. They were notorious for huge families and family groups. They were also known for being absolute monsters, but Owen seemed okay.

Small family here. One brother, both of us were brought up by a single mom. I loved it. Send. Geez, she was just spilling her entire life. She was okay with sharing some, but needed to be more careful.

Where did you get the scar on your cheek?

The smile faded from her face, and she put the phone down in a rush. She stared at it, heart thumping away in her chest. She took another sip of her wine, and another. She stood and turned her back to the phone like it would make the flashback go away. She’d been held down, and the blade had been searing hot. It was as much a burn as a scar. Rook told her she’d been very lucky that it had healed so well. Very lucky. Lucky.

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