Page 29 of Soul Bound

His hand pauses halfway to his mouth, his fingers hold a fry in them. “You lived on the streets?”

Oops.I didn’t mean to let that slip, a tinge of panic shoots through my veins, worried about what he’ll think of me now knowing that fact. Will he judge me for it? “For a couple of years.” I swallow. “I had to get away from home. It was no longer safe for me to be there.”

His eyes fill with pity and I hate it. “Whathappenedto you, Arizona?”

I give him a small sad smile and shake my head, “That’s a story for another time. I think I’ve shared enough about my past for one day. And you never did explain the nickname,” I remind him.

He wipes his face with a napkin before answering. “You know the Eagle’s song ‘Take It Easy?’” I nod my head. “The lyric in it says something about going to Winslow, Arizona.”

“Oh.” I grin at this. “White Fang is still a better nickname.”

“Not even close.”

We eat our food in comfortable silence for a little while. I end up eating most of the grilled cheese and drinking half of the milk. Ranger is still unimpressed by my eating habits, and I ignore the look he sends me when I tell Jackie I’m done with my meal and she can clear the table.

I can still feel his eyes on me when Jackie leaves the table with our plates, “Stop looking at me like that. I’ll eat an apple or something later.” I slip out of the booth when he does. I reach back to grab my bag but remember I still don’t have it with me since I haven’t been to the motel to grab it yet. God, I really need to shower and grab a fresh set of clothes from my bag. Pruitt had lent me the shirt I’m wearing, but I’m still wearing the same jeans and underwear as yesterday…yuck.

He grumbles something under his breath that I don’t understand as he waits for me to stand. He places a hand on the small of my back as he leads me out of the restaurant. I try to ignore the tingling feeling where Ranger is touching me as we exit. Jackie waves at us from behind the counter and I give her a small wave goodbye as we walk by.

Ranger opens the door of his raised SUV for me and helps me up into the passenger seat since there isn’t a running board for me to step on. He even stands there and waits for me to buckle up before closing the door and rounding the vehicle.

“We’ll stop at the motel on the way to Pruitt’s so you can go grab your things. You’ll be staying at their house or with me. The motel is disgusting and not at all safe. It’s owned by a fox shifter, and he’s shady as fuck. You’ll be safer with us.” Ranger pulls out of the diner parking lot and heads down the quiet road.

“What if I didn’t want to stay with you guys?” I lift my chin stubbornly.

“I’d say tough shit,Winnie.”

I notice his eyes sparkle with humor when he uses the nickname Esme had given me. No one in my life had ever bothered to give me a nickname, and now I have two different ones.

“Fine,” I relent, mainly because he’s right. I spent all of five minutes in the motel room when I got into town, and it was dingy and dirty. I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping in that bed at all. And the shower…shudder. “I just need to use a computer when we get back,” I remind him.

“You can use my computer to contact your friend,” he promises. Ranger is one of those guys who makes driving lookcool. I don’t know what it is, but there is something about the way he drives with one hand on the wheel with his posture all relaxed that makes my stomach clench. Maybe it’s the dark pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses he put on when he climbed into the driver seat a minute ago? All I know is, Ilikeit.

Oh no.

Am I starting to crush on this brooding werewolf? Surely not, right?

Right.

* * *

It takesa lot of effort to not sit and stare at Ranger as we drive back to the house. It takes everything in me to keep my eyes staring out the passenger window instead of on him. I don’t know what came over me earlier, but there is no way I’m going to allow myself to develop feelings for the dude. It must be the lack of sleep and the crazy roller coaster of emotions I’ve been on the past three days that brought on those unwanted emotional...stirrings.

He held to his word and stopped at the motel for me to grab the few things I have to my name. It’s not much, just a canvas backpack and a few changes of clothes, but I still feel better having it in my possession. And I won’t tell Ranger this, but seeing the motel in the light of day made me realize just how decrepit it was. Last night when I checked in it was already nighttime and the dark did a good job of hiding how gross it was.

When we pull into Pru’s driveway and he stops the car, I don’t wait for him to come around and open the door for me like he has been doing. The door opens easily since lucky for me, he didn’t set the child locks on the passenger door. My boots crunch in the gravel as I make my way to the front door. I look back at Ranger to make sure he’s following, but he’s still sitting in the driver’s seat, looking at something on his phone.

The glass door to Pruitt’s lake house is unlocked when I approach, so I let myself inside. The house is quiet, but a white Jeep and a black truck are in the driveway, so know someone must be home. I inwardly cringe when I see the wires hanging out of the ceiling where the chandelier used to be. I make a mental note to give Pruitt some money to replace it.

The decorations in the house are modern and industrial, but the home still feels warm and homey—even with the mass quantity of windows on the back wall. The home I was raised in was decorated in a way that screamedmoney. The furnishings were all stiff and uncomfortable, but were the most expensive on the market. The rugs were hideous, but they cost more than a car. The wallpaper was hand-painted and done in obnoxious prints and colors. The chandeliers were all made of real gold and the marble flooring cost three hundred dollars a square foot. It was like living in a very expensive museum.

I pass a gallery wall full of pictures set in dark black frames. My parents didn’t keep any personal pictures out at our house, so I find myself examining each one of Pru’s.

One picture is of a dark-haired man and a blonde woman who looks a lot like Pruitt. She’s smiling down at her pregnant belly while the man beams down at her. He looks at her like she hung the moon. I can’t imagine someone ever looking at me like that, the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally looked at me like I was something they picked off the bottom of their shoe. I don’t think anyone has ever loved me now that I think about it.

Wow, that seems like a problem I should have brought up in all those months of therapy. Doctor Bev would havelovedto sink her teeth into that one. Oh well, it’s a little too late for that.

The next picture is of Pruitt in a lace wedding gown. A tattooed man has her wrapped in his arms, and they both smile at the camera. The guy looks so much like Ranger and Ransom, I have to assume this is Ryker, the one Weylyn brother I haven’t met. While he looks like he’s never been happier in the picture, I can tell that he’s been hardened by life. Ryker screams danger and seems a lot less approachable than Ransom or Ranger.

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