Changed

Chapter Seven

Did he take them all? What would Rachel need?

Declan studied the contents of the drawer, trying to decide what to do.

She hadn’t woken since she’d passed out in his arms at the shop. He didn’t want to bother her, so he’d entered her home to retrieve her things. Her clothes weren’t difficult to sort. He’d left her work things in the drawers and collected her stain-free jeans and shirts. But when it was time to get her panties and bras he was at a loss.

Maybe I should buy her new things. His mood lifted. The idea appealed to him. If I took her shopping I could choose everything that touches her body.

Deciding that would be best, he snatched a handful of undergarments and stuffed them into the duffel he’d brought into the house. Done and ready to go, he lifted his head and gazed at his surroundings, scowling. Rachel kept things clean but the house was falling to pieces. The ceiling leaked in several places, the walls barely covered with peeling wallpaper. Her furniture was obviously secondhand, the dresser and nightstand barely holding together. As a werewolf he didn’t get cold but he did notice the temperature didn’t change when he entered the residence.

He studied Rachel’s bed, taking in the thick but threadbare quilts over the top.

His mate had suffered.

Thinking of her living like this made him see red. She deserved to live in a home that was always warm and safe, surrounded by the pretty things women liked. If he’d known how bad things were he’d have stepped in and claimed her sooner. One thing was certain. She’d never live like this again. He’d see to that. But even if he cared for her would she ever share her past with him? Would she open the door to her emotions and let him in?

Pushing the thoughts aside, he shook his head and strode from the room. She had a new home and he’d make sure she was provided for. He might not be a millionaire but he’d saved more than enough money to support her. She’d never suffer again. She sure as fuck wouldn’t have to worry about leaky ceilings, shoddy wallpaper and stinky fucking carpet.

When he made it to the living room, he paused.

A cushion on the couch remained torn, pieces of foam on the ground. Dark brown smears stained the carpets, the evidence of Rachel’s attack vividly clear. A growl traveled to his throat, his fingers going tight around the handles of the duffel.

Rachel could have died.

He could have lost her before he ever knew her.

Don’t go there. Walk out the door and never look back.

Determined to heed his own warning, he started for the door. He stopped short, freezing when he saw the woman standing in the hallway. She halted her progress, taking him in.

It didn’t take long for Declan to recognize who she was.

Her nose, hair color and eyes reminded him of Rachel but this woman was far older. Years of hard living had obviously taken their toll. She’d pulled her strawberry blonde hair into a low ponytail, the strands lackluster and stringy. Her eyes, unlike Rachel’s, were dull and lifeless. As if that wasn’t bad enough, her clothing looked dirty and slept in. The oversized shirt covering her body was wrinkled, her jeans worn at the knees and stained.

“Who the hell are you?” The woman’s words were slurred and uneven.

“I’m Declan. And you are?”

“Cindy Gentry. Rachel’s mother.” Staring him up and down, she asked, “What are you doing here? Where’s Rach?”

“She’s with friends.” Even across the distance he could smell the booze wafting from her. The female was drinking herself to an early grave. He hiked the duffel up, resting the back of his hand on his shoulder. “I came to get her a few things.”

“Are you the flavor of the month?” She tottered toward him. “If you know what’s good for you, don’t get comfortable. My girl isn’t the settling type. She knows the score when it comes to men. I made sure I raised her right.”

I just bet you did.

For weeks he’d wondered about his mate—her past, her family, her upbringing. His worst imaginings hadn’t come close. This woman—Rachel’s fucking mother—was a total lush. More than likely she woke to alcohol and not coffee each morning. He tamped down his temper, telling himself not to judge. He didn’t know the woman and his mate hadn’t told him enough about her history for him to make assumptions.

“I’d better go,” he said, making a rush to get the hell out of the woman’s path.

“Hey, don’t run,” she said, grasping his biceps. “Damn. I bet you’re in the gym all the time. Is that a farmer’s tan or does your skin look that good all over? I can see why Rachel took an interest.” She squeezed his arm, inspecting his muscles, giving him a grin. “Why don’t we sit down and have a drink? I’m always happy to meet Rachel’s friends.”

“Her husband,” he snarled, ripping away from the disgusting press of her hand. The retort had come to him naturally. Wolves declared partners as mates. Humans declared them as husbands and wives. “I’m not just a friend.”

“Husband?” She blinked, staring at him. Then she started laughing. “Rachel? Married? Give me a break.” She guffawed, her stained teeth gaining his attention. “Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes. My girl ain’t the marrying kind.”

“Apparently you don’t know her very well,” he replied briskly and tried to leave again.

“Hold up, you son of a bitch,” she snapped, grabbing his arm again. “Don’t tell me I don’t know my own child. I had her. I raised her. I know her better than anyone. Do you hear me?”

Rachel was asleep in his backseat. The wolf inside him wanted to return to her. Fighting off the beast had drained her physically but she’d wake soon. He didn’t want her to come to awareness alone. She needed him there to anchor her, offering her any and all of the support she needed.

Enough of this shit.

“Believe me.” Staring at the woman, he let the beast peer through his eyes. He knew his irises would shift color, clueing her in on what he was. “I know her. Very well.”

She paled as she gazed into his eyes, releasing him immediately. “What the fuck!” Backing toward the couch, she grasped a glass paperweight on a nearby table and lifted it into the air. “Where’s my daughter? What the hell have you done with her?”

“I’ll tell her to call you.” He avoided the questions, preparing to get the fuck out of the decrepit home. Trying to be courteous, he dipped his head in a display of respect. “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Gentry.”

“I’m calling the police.” She rushed to the phone on the table next to the couch. Her jaw dropped when she saw the carpet, staring at the bloodstains covering the floor. Her hand trembled as she reached for the phone, fear evident in her face. “If you’ve hurt her I’ll make sure you get what’s coming to you. I’ve seen your car. I know what you look like. And I know what you are. Tell me where she is or I’ll make sure they hunt you down.”

It was a bluff and they both knew it. The human police would investigate but once they learned what Declan was they’d turn everything over to the packs. They knew not to get involved with supernatural creatures. It was a give and take that had allowed everyone in the area to coexist in peace.

“Rachel’s fine,” he replied, keeping his composure. “But if you want to call the police, feel free.”

“You son of a bitch!” She threw the paperweight at him. He moved aside, easily avoiding the object. As soon as it hit the wall the glass made a loud crack and broke into several pieces.

The female has lost her mind. Get the hell out.

Declan’s nose picked up Rachel’s scent. He turned in time to see her standing in the hallway, her blue eyes haunted. He didn’t like how sad she looked, seeming almost broken. Her shoulders were hunched, her posture radiating pain and misery.

“Hello, Mother.”

Rachel wanted to crawl beneath a rock and die in shame.

Her enhanced sense of smell told her that Mommy Dearest had been drinking. She picked up traces of tequila and beer. The horrible stench of sweat and cigarettes clung to Cindy Gentry’s unkempt and dirty clothing. Her mother hadn’t showered in days. No doubt she’d been on a binge. This wasn’t the first time she’d paid Rachel a visit after a few days of heavy drinking, asking for money to buy food and more booze.

She didn’t look at Declan, keeping her gaze on her mother.

What must he think of her now? Was he humiliated? Upset?

She didn’t want to see pity in his eyes.

Over the years she’d stopped trying to make friends. She didn’t want anyone to know what she dealt with on a regular basis. It was bad enough that Chloe had witnessed Cindy on a binge. Unfortunately Declan knew the truth now. He’d seen it firsthand. She’d known it would cut like a knife but she hadn’t anticipated feeling so ashamed.

Her ego—fragile as it was—couldn’t take much more.

Something inside her shifted, warming the chill that had overtaken her. Her despondency didn’t vanish but it did lessen, becoming less powerful somehow.

The wolf.

Her inner beast offered comfort, giving Rachel strength and balance. For the first time she was grateful for the presence, thankful to have something to rely on without asking. The shame remained but it wasn’t as harsh, keeping her from breaking down in a useless wash of tears.

“Rachel,” the concern in her mother’s face abruptly changed to anger, “what are you thinking? Do you know what he is? Don’t you remember the things I’ve told you? This is because of Chloe, isn’t it? I told you that girl is no good now. You need to stay away from her.” Rushing over, she stopped in front of Rachel and grasped her arms. “Tell him to leave. We need to have a serious talk.”

Rachel glanced at Declan. He hadn’t moved, letting her handle the situation.

Sighing, she tried to move away from the hands clutching her arms. “I’m not in the mood to talk right now. Don’t worry, he’s leaving.” She heard Declan growl and hurried to clarify. “In fact, we’re both going to go. We have somewhere we need to be.”

Undeterred, the tipsy woman dug her fingers into Rachel’s arms. “You’re not going anywhere,” she snapped, bloodshot eyes wild. “If you think I’m going to let you leave with him you’ve got another think coming.”

“What do you need this time?” Rachel snapped, fed up after all she’d endured the last couple of days. “Money? A place to crash?”

She reached down, ready to dive into her pocket for cash. She didn’t have much but she was willing to hand over what little she did. She wanted Cindy to leave. She wanted to forget this entire ordeal. Her fingers drifted over the sweatpants Declan had given her. So much for that. She lowered her hand, shaking her head.

“It’s not going to happen. Not today. I have more important things to deal with.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me like that, you selfish little shit.” Indignant, her mother moved closer and lowered her voice, “I’ve done everything for you. Everything.”

“Get out of my face.” The order came out as a snarl. The wolf inside her rose up and that odd shade of red changed the colors in the room. “I’m not in a very good mood. You don’t want to piss me off.”

Her mother’s eyes widened and a scent drifted to Rachel’s nose—acidic and peppery—as she took a giant step back. “What has he done to you?”

“He hasn’t done anything to me.” She could have shared the truth with the woman who’d done a piss-poor job of raising her but she didn’t. Cindy didn’t deserve it. Not after everything her mother had done in the last decade.

“Don’t lie. I know what he is. I should have recognized it from the start—tanned, big, enormous muscles.” Her mother’s gaze drifted to the blood on the floor. “But I didn’t put two and two together until I saw his eyes. You didn’t either, did you? You brought him home and he changed you somehow.” Giving Declan a hateful look, she hissed, “He said he was your husband. Is that what they call it when they bite a human? Do you have any idea what he’s done?”

“They call it mating, actually.” For a moment she considered telling Cindy about Chloe and Jackson. The pair intended to marry to appease Chloe’s grandparents, even though being mated was union enough for the pack. Ultimately she decided not to, figuring her mother would hear the news when she visited a bar and got wind of the town gossip. “I was bitten, but not by him. Instead of being bitchy you might want to thank him for saving my life.”

Rachel braced herself and looked at Declan. She told herself it didn’t matter if he felt sorry for her. Most people did. To her surprise he didn’t look as though he pitied her. He looked pissed off, his gaze homed on her mother, his irises a bright shade of gold.

“We’ll go to the hospital.” Cindy stepped toward Rachel again. “They can help you. There has to be something they can do.”

“There’s nothing they can do,” Declan growled, shifting closer to them. “Human medicine won’t prevent what’s happening. The bite took hold. It’s in her blood.”

“What is happening?” her mother asked, glaring at him.

“I’m becoming one of them,” Rachel answered, trying not to let her fear at the thought show. “When the full moon comes, I’ll change.”

“No!” As her mother shouted she rushed to the phone. “I’m calling the police. They’ll make him leave and we’ll sort this out.” When Rachel started walking away she screamed, “I’ll file a missing persons report. You can leave but you won’t be able to hide.”

Declan stepped between the women, facing Rachel’s irate parent. “I want you to listen to me,” he warned, voice soft but clear. “We’re going to walk out that door. As soon as we do I’m contacting my Alpha, who’ll contact our people. Once he does the police will find out this is a pack matter. They’ll tell you what they tell every human who gets involved with our kind—there’s nothing they can do to help you.”

“You can’t keep me from her.”

“When she wants to talk to you,” he backed up one slow step at a time, “she’ll be in touch.”

Rachel didn’t know if she should hug him or bolt for the door. Uncertain, she wrapped her arm around his waist and edged closer to him. He rested his fingers over hers, the simple touch giving her the comfort she needed. Her mother was tipsy, not drunk. That meant Cindy needed money. If they didn’t go soon Rachel would have to share that she didn’t have any extra money to give. Customers had been scarce the last few months. Everything she had went to bills and necessities. Declan had seen her home so he knew she wasn’t rich. But he didn’t know just how bad things had become.

Resting her forehead against his back, she whispered, “Can we go?”

“Rach…” The way her mother said it made her cringe. She hadn’t gotten out quickly enough. Cindy Gentry might not care about her daughter but she cared about herself. “The electric bill was more than I expected this month. If I don’t take care of it by tomorrow they’ll shut it off.”

Declan shifted against her, giving her hand a reassuring pat. “Then you can stay here for a few days. We have to find a Realtor who can help get the house into shape before Rachel sells it anyway.”

“Sells it?” Cindy sounded mortified and furious.

“Yes, sells it,” he countered, brushing his fingers over Rachel’s. “She’s my mate. What’s mine is now hers. There’s nothing she needs here. There’s no reason to keep the house.”

In another time—hell, in another life—she’d have been outraged Declan had made such a huge declaration. Instead she took a look around, studying the home she’d lived in for years. The place wouldn’t last much longer. She’d been unable to maintain the roof so when it rained she had to place pans around the kitchen to keep the floor dry. No matter how often she cleaned, mold seemed to thrive near the windows. The wood around the door had dry rotted and the floor had started caving in certain places. The house was so different from Declan’s. Whereas his things were costly, well-designed and sturdy, hers were cheap, secondhand and falling apart.

Humiliation washed over her.

She didn’t want a Realtor to see the place. More than likely they’d refuse to help. Demolishing the house would probably be best. They’d get more for the land than they would the home. Shutting her eyes, she pictured her father. There were good memories in this place but not many. The negative outweighed the positive by far.

“I need to buy groceries,” Cindy said with a hint of desperation.

“That’s not my problem,” Rachel retorted, welcoming the anger that rose within her. The one woman who should have cared about her—her own mother—had forgotten everything that had happened to her daughter. Worse? The concern she’d shown earlier had vanished. Rachel usually blamed her mother’s condition for her behavior. Alcoholism was a disease. But enough was fucking enough. “And Declan’s wrong. You’re not welcome to stay here. Get out.”

“This is my home as much as yours. I’m the only family you have left.”

“You’re wrong.” With a small step to the side, she took Declan’s hand and faced the woman who’d made her life a living hell. Her father had left the house in trust until Rachel turned eighteen. She’d been unable to do anything about the money Cindy had blown through—funds that should have provided her a better upbringing. But she’d been able to take control of the house the minute she came of age. That much she’d made sure of. “This is my house and I’ll do whatever I want with it. And I have plenty of family. Chloe. Her grandparents.” Taking a deep breath, she finally accepted the reality of her situation. “Declan and the members of his pack.”

“You’re not thinking clearly.” Cindy pushed buttons on the phone. “You need help.”

Rachel released Declan’s hand and strode to her mother. She ripped the phone from her grasp. “You need to leave or I’m calling the police,” she said calmly, staring her mother in the eye. “It won’t be the first time they’ve hauled you off. Only this time I won’t bail you out. You’ll sit in a cell for a few days. It’d probably be the best thing for you.”

“Ungrateful little bitch.”

Her mother’s hand came up, poised to strike. She knew how the slap would feel—harsh and hot against her skin. This time Cindy’s palm didn’t make it, stopped as Rachel caught her mother’s wrist mid-swing. Her wolf snarled in her head, the fingers wrapped around delicate bones shaking. Rachel kept the beast back, trying to remain composed.

“I’m not going to be around to take care of you anymore.” She let go, trembling as adrenaline rushed through her system. “Get help, Mom. Go somewhere and get the help you need.”

Pivoting, she faced Declan.

For a long time she’d resented him, wishing he’d go away.

Now he represented the life she’d always wanted for herself.

He offered security and strength, promising to care for her in a way she’d always dreamed about. She’d seen how Jackson treated Chloe—doting on her, watching out for her, loving her beyond reason. A week ago she’d have sworn she didn’t want that for herself but it would have been a lie. The truth was she hadn’t wanted to ache for something she’d never have.

“Come on, baby.” Declan extended his hand to her, his expression one of understanding. She slid her fingers through his, shivering at the contact. Pulling her close, he pressed a tender kiss to her temple. “Let’s go home.”

As they walked to the door she called over her shoulder, “If you’re not out of here in five minutes the police will be on their way. I suggest you get in your car and go. Goodbye, Mother.”

She walked away from all she’d ever known without looking back.

A new chapter in her life had started.

It was time to leave the past behind.