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Frankie huffed. “And this from the man whose only plan was ‘get the hell outta Dodge.’” She headed into the studio’s only bathroom, turning on the light overhead. The cramped space sported little more than a lightbulb with a pull string, a cracked sink, and a working toilet, but she always kept a small travel bag stored under the exposed sink pipes.
“That’s still the plan,” he called after her.
In other words, she was simply stalling him, but for some reason, he was indulging her.
Closing the door, she stripped off the damp trench coat in exchange for the jeans and an old t-shirt sweater from the travel bag, before she emerged. “And did your plan include an untraceable, ‘for sale’ property off the E.U’s radar?”
Silence followed, and Jace frowned.
She cast him a smug grin. “That’s what I thought.”
She stepped closer, offering the trench coat back to him.
Shaking his head, he reached inside the pocket of his leather coat. “Keep it.” He removed a flask before he unscrewed a cap and took a drink.
She lifted a brow, but he simply cast her a smug grin and extended the flask to her.
She shook her head, before turning her back to him.
In the mirrors, his eyes followed her, like it didn’t occur to him to look elsewhere, or like he didn’t want to. A delicious pressure built low in her belly, stirring something there. Temptation, or something close to it.
“So this is your brilliant plan? Hide out? In the city?” he asked. “For how long?”
“No. You’re mistaken.” She shook her head, giving him an incredulous look. “All I’ve done is given you lead time toformulateyour brilliant plan, and get the hell outta dodge isn’t that.” She grabbed a refillable water bottle she kept by the barre, for occasions such as this, and filled it with tap water from the sink. She took a quick drink. “Consider it payment for standing up to that asshole you called a region lead for me.”
Jace huffed, something close to a laugh, but not quite. He tipped back the flask again. “No payment needed. I’d been biding my time, wishing I could take out that bastard for years.” Slowly, he eased toward her then, a test, like he wanted to come nearer but saw her hesitate.
At her reluctance, instead he brushed past her, allowing himself to wander. His steel-toed boots echoed against the old wood floor as he traced a large hand across a curled graffiti letter. “I should’ve put a bullet in him when I had the chance.” His tone was gruff, strained.
“But you didn’t because you’re a good man.”
He glanced toward her then. In the dark, lupine gold flashed.
She smiled. “Or something close to it, at least.”
She held her water bottle out to him, offering to share, but he refused. A quiet, heavy tension settled between them again, neither of them certain what to say.
She nodded to the open space. “Sorry it doesn’t have heat. It’s going to get cold tonight.”
Jace lifted a brow. The way he looked at her made it feel like she had a secret she hadn’t yet shared with him. “Why do this?” he asked. “Why help me?”
She set her water down on the floor, softly. “Because everyone deserves a fighting chance.” She drew closer to him, placing her hands on the barre surface to rest her weight there. “You put your own life on the line to help me, even if you say that wasn’t why.” She met his gaze. “That means something.”
The tension between them stretched for a beat.
“So what is this place?” Jace asked, glancing toward the window.
“My dance studio. Or it would have been anyway. If I had opened it.” Frankie lifted a shoulder and shrugged. “Technically it belongs to the pack for tax purposes, but it was purchased from my personal funds. It’s my name on the deed.” She nodded to one single picture she’d hung on the far wall. A younger version of herself in costume at some dance competition or another. She couldn’t even remember which. It’d been aspirational placing it there.
A dream of something she’d never have.
Of a life that was shaped for herself alone.
Not the life of a pack wolf.
Jace eyed the old photo. “Dance?” He lifted a brow. “Really?”
The costume she wore in the picture was red and glittering. A little revealing from the devious grin that sparked when he looked at it. An old favorite of hers. She’d been proud of how she looked in it.
