In a Badger Way (Honey Badger Chronicles #2) - Shelly Laurenston Page 0,76
obsessive, too . . . irritating to be tolerated by lion females who were not related to him. Of course, Matt could easily get into another Pride, but their mother had always said her two sons were “together forever.” Then she’d remind Matt that he had to take care of James. “It’s all on you. Never forget that.”
And he didn’t. How could he when he faced that weight on his shoulders every day he came home?
Matt poured himself a scotch. “Yes. I met with her.”
“Why?”
“I thought we could work some things out. After all these years.”
“And how did that go?”
Matt didn’t answer, just drank his scotch.
“That woman can’t be trusted and you know it.”
Matt poured another scotch. “What does trust have to do with anything? I was just—”
“Bragging. You wanted to brag. To a woman who could probably not care less about you or what we’ve achieved.”
We?
“Then why do you care we met?” he had to ask.
“She wants something from you. Don’t you see that?”
“She doesn’t want anything from me.” And that’s what had always bothered Matt about Stevie Stasiuk. Considering what a loser life she’d had growing up, it amazed him that she refused to ever ask him for anything. And when he gave her things, like jewelry or nice clothes, she never seemed interested. Maybe even bored. As if she were above all that.
And then her sisters. Good God, her sisters! He’d tried to be nice to them, but they’d made it clear they didn’t like him. Thought he was too old for her. And they obviously didn’t have thoughts that were higher than “flowers pretty. Day hot.” They were cretins.
Stevie, though, he’d overlooked her genetic defects because her brain was so powerful, and he respected her for that. It wasn’t enough, though. It was never enough.
He’d gone through most of their relationship never knowing what she’d wanted from him, but he did know that it had all blown up that morning when he’d been talking to her—he couldn’t remember exactly what he was talking to her about, though—and one second she’d been sitting there, glaring at him, and the next he had a fork sticking out of his face.
Because that’s where she’d shoved it!
He’d called the cops, of course. He was a shifter but he didn’t really believe that logic many other shifters had of handling that sort of thing on their own. What else were cops for besides dealing with crazy women who suddenly attacked their boyfriends? But the cops didn’t seem too interested and she didn’t even get a night in jail. The whole thing appeared to be forgotten by everyone except Matt and his family.
Then he’d woken up one morning a few months after the breakup to find Max MacKilligan standing beside his bed.
“Drop these charges against Stevie, or I’ll come back and cut your throat while you’re sleeping.” Then, for visual effect, she’d dragged her forefinger from one side of her neck to the other. While smiling.
Not needing a fight with the MacKilligans, he’d dropped the charges. Not because he was frightened, of course, but because it just made sense.
But his brother had never really let the whole thing go and was still angry Matt hadn’t made sure she’d been charged and punished to the fullest extent of the law. James had always felt that Stevie was beneath his brother and didn’t deserve any of the attention she’d always gotten.
“She’s a freak,” James had insisted then . . . and now. “And you continue to suck up to her.”
“Let it go, James. It’s over.”
“Is it?” he asked. “Is it really?”
chapter FIFTEEN
Shen pulled the car into the attached garage at his sister’s house and turned off the motor. All he could think about was getting on that great couch, watching some late-night TV, and eating some bamboo.
Ahhhh. Life was good.
“So,” Shen said to Stevie, turning his head toward her, “want to go inside and—”
He stopped talking because he wasn’t talking to Stevie’s face. He was talking to her ass.
With her body between the two seats, she was leaning over so she could reach the back.
“What the hell are you doing?” Shen demanded. “Why am I talking to your ass?”
“I’m trying to get my backpack.”
“You could have just gotten out of the car, opened the backseat door, and pulled it out that way.”
“You and your logic! This seemed like a good idea at the time. It’s just the bag is stuck under the seat and . . . got it!”