Page 138 of Conner's Luna

"Now, your mom. Holy fuck, that female loves a good spanking," Dad adjusts himself as I stand abruptly.

"Leave Bailey alone," I tell them, before bolting from the room as my uncles and dad roar with laughter behind me.

"Conner," Uncle Alex calls out after me. "You need to tell Bailey everything. After she moves to our land. Tonight."

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35 - A 98% Sure Thing

Bailey

"Merry Christmas to me," I mutter under my breath. It is seriously December the twenty-fifth. Christmas Day and what am I doing?

Watching huge wolf-men move our furniture into our new house. It's an adorable house. A cottage-style two-bedroom that sits in a pretty garden with low rock walls and pathways hedged with lavender plants. Despite the label 'cottage' and the fact that it ostensibly has only two bedrooms, at least two of our RedMoon rentals could fit inside its walls. It's a little like stepping into a modern fairytale.

I should buy a red coat. With a hood.

Dad wraps an arm around my shoulders, glaring at the men who studiously avoid his gaze. Even wolves respect D.A.D.D.s.

The Grim shoulders one of the smaller men out of the way to tilt a mirror through the door. It's not our mirror. I don't know where it came from, but half an hour ago Velia and her mom showed up with a truckload of beautiful, expensive furniture. A food delivery came as well. On Christmas Day.

I'm not in the best mood, despite the thread of excitement and the friendliness of Velia and her mom. I had to leave Conner this morning and go back to the rental to finish packing all of the stuff I didn't have a chance to last night. When I got back, my lab equipment was missing. Wolves were there, packing things up. Alpha Alex wasn't trying to hide our exodus anymore. I asked one of the wolves there if he had seen anything in my room, but he said 'no.' In the whirlwind of the next few hours, I lost track of everything.

Yep. I'm screwed big-time. Not only has all of the stolen equipment disappeared, but so have my notes and, worst of all,BisabuelaCharlotte's diary. I was only through about twenty pages of it. It's in handwritten Spanish and I have to translate most of it. All I've discovered so far is that she loved speculating on the color blue and loathed a girl named Dessie, who has blue eyes. Ironic, ifAbuelais right about our family andMami Wata. Charlotte wanted everything to be blue. Her clothes, her shoes, her house, her future husband's eyes. I guess no one gave her the blue-eyed-babies speech.

I feel sick at the thought of the missing items, but I don't know how to broach the subject with anyone. What do I say?Hey, I stole about eight thousand dollars’ worth of equipment from my place of employment and now it's all missing?

Tears prick my eyelashes and I walk away from Dad to hide them from him. I'll tell Conner about the missing stuff as soon as I see him, but he's M.I.A. until tonight. I check the clock that a wolf is carefully hanging on the wall. It's three in the afternoon. Hopefully, he comes soon-

Strong arms wrap around me from behind and a kiss is dropped on my forehead. I spin around in his arms with my smile blooming across my face. "Conner!"

"Hey, babygirl," he murmurs. He still looks wrecked, with dark circles under his eyes, but there is a peace in his eyes that I never saw before.

Those green eyes crinkle at the corners when I ask him, "are you feeling alright?

"Are you?" he responds, gently wiping a stray tear from my cheek.

My smile wobbles. "I have to tell you something," I whisper.

"Me first, OK?" he says softly. He smiles sadly as he tugs me away. Moments later I’m buckled into his truck and we’re pulling away from my new house.

I start to protest. I really need my things returned and I should confess to stealing from his uncle. Oh crap. He's going to hate me and kick me off his land hours after Dad and I moved. I'm so stupid. I'm the dumbest smart person ever. "You'll be angry with me," I confess to him, "and I want to get it over with."

"No, Bailey. Let me say what I need to," he demands quietly. "Nothing you can say will make me mad at you."I want to tell him. It lingers on my tongue, but Conner is acting so oddly that I literally bite my words back. A few minutes later, we pull up to a small cabin. "It's a heat cabin," he explains. "Somewhere a female can go hide out if she's in heat and needs privacy."

There is nothing here but the tiny cabin. We somehow traveled so deep into the woods even the sunlight barely shines through the trees. It feels like early dusk.

I step out of the truck warily. There is only one small window, too tiny for an adult to fit through, but there are heavy steel bars on the outside, anyway. The door is reinforced metal and when Conner ushers me inside and shuts it, I see that there are no less than three locks. The first is mechanical. When the door clicks behind us, it whirs into place automatically. The next lock is a regular deadbolt. The last is a thick bar, like a chain, but more heavy-duty.

There is an alcove with a large, sturdy bed, a kitchenette, and a small living space adorned with a couch and flatscreen hung up on the wall. Everything here has a distinct feeling of indestructibility, but I saw the claw marks on the bottom of the windowsill outside before Conner hustled me past. Creepy.

"This is, um... sturdy," I say quietly.

"It's safe," he replies softly, "and private."

I look at him seriously. "My blood will soak into the wood floor and never come out."

"Statistically you have a much higher chance of being attacked by someone you know," he offers, grinning wickedly.

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