Page 23 of Conner's Luna

Conner just pats my knee comfortingly. "You'll figure it out, smart girl."

My eyes drift closed as the last energy leaves me. "Rest, babe. I'll get you something to eat," he murmurs.

It's wrong to feel so safe with a man who can beat up another one so easily, but I can't help but feel that way. Later, I'll analyze my feelings again. For now, I let the hum of the pickup lull me to sleep.

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Conner

My wolf growls, pacing. The scent of Braxton's blood in the tight confines of the truck makes us both ready to destroy something. The image of Lydia looking at me scornfully, as if it's my fault I beat the shit out of her precious male, burns on the back of my retinas. It all makes the alpha in me wild with rage and confusion. I can't claim my mate and I can't protect my pack.

I tighten my fingers on the wheel, shoving him back down so that I can order Bailey her rabbit-food meal. At least I can feed Bailey. I get her hot cocoa and an apple pie, just in case she likes that sugary shit. Pulling up to the first window, I glance over at her and watch her long, blond eyelashes flutter.

She's an enigma. Her corkscrew-curls and soft mocha skin clearly tell me that she's of mixed race, but her blond eyelashes could belong on a Swedish supermodel. She's adorably sweet-natured, but didn't hesitate to tell Trey to fuck off. He's a blind fool.

The girl at the window makes too much noise as she hands me my food and takes my credit card. I glance back at Bailey to see her waking up.

"You're always feeding me," she murmurs. Straightening, she takes the bags in her hands. "Are you really a trust-fund baby?"

I shrug. "Yeah, we've got money. It's not mine, so I really don't think about it."

She just smiles at me and yawns indelicately. "Money is the number one reason couples fight," she says quietly.

"I've heard that, too. Sex is the second," I tell her. Especially when one person cheats, I add silently. My wolf curls up his lip. The sweet scent of honeysuckle lingers under the stench of Trey and Braxton's blood, tickling his nose and making him lick his chops. How the fuck does Trey resist that perfect scent?

Bailey sits up more and the sweatshirt I tossed over her falls down to her waist. The growl escapes before I can bite it back. Braxton's blood decorates her shirt and for a split second my wolf forgets that it's not Bailey's blood.

She's not hurt, I remind him. Just shaken up a little and probably pissed at the state of her notes. I noticed how neat and organized they seemed to be as we picked them up today.

"Babe, you really need to type up your notes. Why write them out on paper?" I ask.

She takes a sip of the cocoa and sighs. "I usually do, but during labs, I don't have room on the tables here to keep my laptop separate. Stuff gets spilled on the laptop and it breaks and then I don't have notes at all anymore. I have some stuff saved in my cloud, but I've lost my laptop too often, so I transcribe my notes later. I just haven't had time lately to type them up."

I try to follow her rambling closely, but Bailey is still half-asleep, and it doesn't make sense. "How many laptops have been broken?"

"Three. The third was just yesterday," she replies sadly. She turns her head and looks out of the window.

My stomach tightens. She's not clumsy enough to break three laptops in as many months. That's bullshit. Fuck Trey and his pack of shitheads.

"You getting a new one?" I ask her.

She shakes her head quietly.

"I'll get you one," I say.

"No. You can't do that. It will just break, anyway," she says softly, but with a note of sheer stubbornness threading through her voice.

I look at her, really look at her, and see the signs of fatigue, of stress. It's been a week since I took her to see her mom and she looks even more tired than she did that day. I pull up to her house and hurry around to her door before she tries to jump down by herself.

"Thanks, Conner," she says. "Let me just grab some money for the food-"

"No," I say, cutting her off. "Don't," I order when she opens her mouth to protest. "You helped my brother," I tell her. "It's the least I can do."

She smiles sadly. "He helped me, first." She gathers her stuff in her arms and looks at me with an odd look. "Bye, Conner. Thanks for helping me."

When she walks away, I get this sinking feeling in my gut. She sounded like she was telling me bye forever. I climb into my truck and wait a full five minutes, just staring at her quiet house, before I pull away.

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