Harley
"Run! Run, Harley!" Mathias screamed. The house had already burst apart in a mass of debris and flames and now the dark curling smoke cloud reached up to the sky.
This was wrong. This was all wrong. Mathias was supposed to yell at her to run before the house exploded. But here he was, running alongside her.
With a firm grip on her elbow he pulled her closer, urging her to run faster. He'd never done that before, run with her. Yet she felt better knowing he was right there and not left behind, getting shred to pieces by a vicious rogue.
A howl tore through the sky behind them.
"I'm right here," Mathias said, huffing for breath. "We've got to get out of here."
"I'm too slow," she told him, her lungs burning.
"I'm not leaving you," he promised. "I'd never leave you."
The two bolted for the road--the same road Harley had been found on by a pack member when she was seven. If they followed that road into town, they'd be safe. No wolf, rogue or not, would risk exposure. They just had to make it there.
Close. The break in the trees was maybe thirty yards away. Mathias urged her faster.
Pounding footsteps behind them. Harley tried to push her limbs faster, but the cold fear spreading through her veins threatened to liquify her legs.
It didn't matter anyway. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her away. "Mathias!"
Harley gasped, jerking upright as bashing at the door ripped her from sleep. Where was she? It took a moment, but finally her brain made sense of the room around her.
Pack house. She was in the Willow Creek pack house.
Without thinking, Harley ripped open the door. Was something happening? Were they under attack?
"William Grey, just what do you think you're doing?" Natalie's voice sliced in from down the hall at the same time Harley whisper-hissed, "Will? What--?"
Will, clothes wrinkled and dark hair in wild tufts, glanced over at Harley with half-lidded eyes. "Harley."
Acutely aware of the fact she was dressed in an overly large t-shirt and short-shorts, Harley pulled at the hem of her nightshirt and asked, "Are you...Are you drunk?"
He frowned sloppily. His head kept wobbling, as if his skull wouldn't quite balance on his neck. "No, no. I'm not drunk. I'm tipsy."
She could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Will--" She met Natalie's eyes.
Natalie sighed and stepped forward. "Will, why don't you go sleep it off on the couch?"
"I told you...I'm not..." He blinked slowly, then gave a slight shake of his head. His hand latched onto the doorframe for balance.
"Natalie, It's okay." Harley assured. "I'll handle it."
With a grimace, Natalie crossed her arms and sent the back of Will's head a distrusting look. "You sure?"
Harley reached out for Will's elbow and began to guide him into her room. "I've got it. Thanks."
She clearly didn't want to leave Harley to handle an intoxicated rogue hunter. Still, she said, "Come get me if you need anything."
Getting Will to sit on the bed was easy--he practically fell onto her crumpled white sheets. Taking his shoes off was harder. He liked to wear hiking boots most of the time, the same heavy brown pair he wore currently, and in his drunkenness he'd tied the laces into knots. How had he gotten them on in the first place?
After what felt like forever, she finally yanked off his second boot and let it fall to the floor with a thud. "Will?"
Sprawled in the middle of her bed, Will had his eyes closed, his breath even. He had to be asleep.
She let out a deep breath and sat on the edge of her mattress. It looked like she'd be sleeping on the floor for the rest of the night. Will had his arms spread wide--monopolizing the entire bed. There'd be no way she'd fit.
The lamp on her side table cast a soft light around the room. Harley glanced down at Will, taking time to really look at him. Scruff lined his jaw and though it might be a trick of the light, dark circles rested under his eyes. Whatever had him so unkempt must've also led him to drinking. She tried not to worry. Will was a grown man. He could take care of himself.
Still, was he going through something? And why, when he had so much to drink, did he decide to come to the pack house?
Dear Lord, she hoped he hadn't drove over here. The last thing the pack needed was one of their members behind bars for a DUI.
"Talk to me," Will said so suddenly she jumped.
"Will..."
He peered over at her. His dark hair contrasted with the white of her pillow case. Almost unwillingly, she found herself tracing the way the longer locks of his curved as they rested on the pillow. "You won't talk to me."
A disbelieving laugh bubbled up her throat. He was most likely intoxicated, it was barely past two in the morning, and he wanted her to talk to him. "You need to sleep off the alcohol, big man," She said, "go to sleep."
"No."
"No?"
"I fin-" he hiccuped once, "finally got in here. You really think you're something, don't you?"
Tired and beyond confused, Harley's arms crossed over her chest. "Excuse me?"
Will sat up slowly, in the way an old man did when he had a lot of aches and pains. "You think you're tough...that you can handle whatever this is by yourself. But I'm sick of waiting around."
She rubbed at the bridge of her nose. "You're not making any sense."
"No, you're not making any sense," he said, "why won't you talk to me? Why won't you tell me what's going on?"
"Is this why you came to the pack house, Will? To confront me while you're two sheets to the wind?"
"It seems to be working so far." He grabbed her by the arm, surprisingly gentle. "Why are you shutting me out?"
The self-derision in her chest made her chuckle humorlessly. She shook off his arm. "Don't pretend you care, Will. I know, okay? I know you're sick of my shit, so let's just move forward."
"Sick of your--" Despite his drunkenness, Will's eyes narrowed with control. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I could ask you the same thing."
He put a hand on his chest and then, as if it weighed too much, let it fall to his side. "I'm talking about the fact that you were fine one day and then next thing I know, you're barricading yourself in your room like you have that one disease."
She resisted asking him to clarify about "that one disease." "I'm not barricading myself in here."
For a drunk guy, he still had pretty good control over his facial features. At least, enough to give her a look that said, don't even try that with me.
"Even if I was," she continued her words snapping, "why would you care? You should be overjoyed that I'm not running around blathering about my situation."
"Your situation? Harley--"
So was that it? He was going to play the naive card? Harley stood, looking down at him. "Oh, cut the crap, Will. Jamie told me, okay?"
"Jamie told you what?" He frowned at her. Already he seemed to be bouncing back into sobriety--wolves had a great recovery rate.
"I just wished I didn't hear it from her of all people."
"What did she tell you?"
She pulled fingers through her brown hair. "That you're sick of me playing the sympathy card!" She just barely held herself from yelling the words. "That I apparently play the victim and everyone in the pack is tired of it, but too kind to say anything. At least Jamie was nice enough to tell me."
And then, strangely, Will was laughing. And laughing. "Oh, Harley." Swiping at the skin under his eyes, he said, Jamie didn't tell you that to be nice. She lied to you."
"Lied to me?"
"Yup. She lied to you because she's not blind."
Perplexed, she pointed at him. "William Grey, you are the most confusing man I have ever--"
Out of nowhere, he reached up and yanked her down next to him on the bed. His hands were warm as they cupped her cheeks and he leaned forward, deliciously close and--
Kissed her. Nothing more than a whisper of a kiss, a light brush of his lips along hers. Harley's lungs forgot how to take in air and then...
Then it was over.
"Jamie lied because she's jealous. Because she knows I have feelings for you."
Will went on, as if he didn't notice the way Harley's brain seemed to implode with the sudden information. "I'm not sick of anything you do Harley. And neither is anyone else. Ask Bailey, or Cam, or Ben. You don't play the victim--and if you did, you have a right to. More so than any of the rest of us."
She was 99% sure that if she tried to use her vocal chords right now only a jumble of random syllables would come out. So she stayed quiet and told her heart to stop doing that weird pounding thing.
Will curled some of her long hair around his finger, mostly sober now. "We were worried about you, Harley. Promise me you won't run off to deal with these kind of things yourself. That next time Jamie or anyone says anything you'll come to me first."
She swallowed and nodded, her heart feeling like a hot coal in her chest and her stomach as if it was lighter than air.
"Good. Now, I've revealed some deeply personal information about my feelings, so I think it's only fair you reciprocate and put me out of my misery."
Harley laughed, a true honest-to-God laugh. Then she wrapped her arm around Will's neck and pulled him forward, catching his lips with her own.