Chapter 35

Shirley

To say the last few days have been hectic would be an understatement. With all of the protests going on around the town and the inner circle having to deal with the backlash, we’ve all been under a great deal of stress. I’ve been trying to help however I can, but there have been obvious setbacks in our timeline due to the uproar. And since Keith has to investigate the activity, we haven’t had any meetings - leaving me to mainly work on my own.

I don’t mind it really. I’m used to sitting behind a computer, handling tasks on hours on end by myself. However, there seems to be a weight hanging over me each time I think of Keith or his friends out on the streets trying to keep the peace. It makes me wish I could do more, but I’m not sure it’s my place.

Finishing up my work for the day, I lean away from my computer as I rush out a breath, my gaze sliding over the quiet interior of the house. Even with today’s responsibilities done, I still feel an aching strain lingering over my mind and skin. I need to ease it somehow and I know just the thing that can help.

Getting up, I go to the kitchen and begin checking the cabinets for a bottle of wine or even something stronger. But I’m disappointed when I find that there’s nothing, causing me to abandon my search. I scowl as I look around, wondering how Keith could have failed to leave me with some kind of liquor to enjoy on an evening like this. However, I remember that he has more important things to worry about and I’m an adult perfectly capable of taking care of this problem on my own.

Calling Warren, I only have to wait ten minutes until he’s pulling up in front of the house. Climbing into his car, I ask him to take me to the nearest liquor store and then I lean back in my seat, trying to relax as I focus on the trees for comfort. As we drive, the forest clears more and more, indicating that we’re getting closer to town. And as I finally see the buildings begin to appear, a specific one catches my attention and causes me to ask Warren to pull over.

Getting out, I’m left in front of a dive bar that looks clean and quiet, causing me to nod with approval. I had planned to enjoy a drink alone at home, but I wouldn’t mind a little bit of background noise as I get a buzz.

“Care to join me?” I ask Warren just before I close the door. But he gives a shake of his head.

“I’m okay, miss,” he tells me. “I’ll wait out here until you’re done.”

Giving him a thankful smile, I officially close the door and then walk toward the door. Just as I expected the inside of the bar is admittedly nice and not too busy - much better than a few other places in town. Determined, I go to the counter and request my drink of choice and the bartender immediately gets working on my order. I’m then left looking around, sneaking a glance over my shoulder at the other patrons.

Only, it seems that one manages to escape my notice. That is, until he’s sliding into the seat next to me.

“Hello,” Ralph says and instantly I lean away from him, giving a cautious look as he offers a smile that isn’t quite right.

“Hi…” I trail out, still studying him. Great. My attempt to catch a quick and enjoyable drink has already crashed and burned. I’m just thankful that I had decided to draw my mole back on before I’d left the house.

“I’m glad I ran into you,” he informs me, and I don’t like the way his voice carries his words. He still looks worn down, but there’s almost something more manic about him. I feel my spine becoming stiffer with every passing second.

“Is there something I can do for you?” I ask, suddenly wishing I could get my drink to go. Or maybe I should just cut my losses and cancel the order. Warren is already waiting outside - I could make a quick escape.

But the way that Ralph is looking at me…it somehow keeps me in my seat.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Ralph states, settling more into his chair.

“About?” I ask, raising your brow.

“Your sister still hasn’t shown up,” he states, his voice firming. “Or even called.”

I try to offer a laugh in response. “It’s only been a few days. You can’t just expect her to give in that easily. I haven’t even heard from her,” I explain to him.

“That’s the thing…” Ralph says slowly, the dip in his voice making my fingers twitch. “If she’s really that ‘overwhelmed’ by our bond and needs to clear her head…then wouldn’t she be reaching out to you - her sister - for support?”

I’m not sure what to say to that. I try to piece together a reply quickly, but it never leaves me as Ralph begins to speak again.

“I don’t think she’s coming back,” he states coldly, nearly baring his teeth. But then he shakes his head and laughs, though it lacks actual humor. “That bitch tricked me and made me reject my mate, and for what?”

Still, I’m unable to speak as I take in Ralph’s demeanor as I can sense what seems like hate behind his words. But how is that possible? It can’t be. I’ve charmed him to be absolutely crazy for Anya and even if I’m not actively using it, the charm should still hold.

All I can think is that he’s not coping well with losing Jean, or these sudden changes. But even then…should he even really be thinking about Jean? Obviously, I’ve never experienced a mating bond of my own or know what it feels like once it breaks, so I’m at a loss.

“She probably has her reasons,” I try, though my voice sounds distant and weak. It causes Ralph to stare over at me, his gaze practically venomous.

“I hope that’s true,” he draws out. “For her sake. And for yours.”

His last words strike me like a punch to the chest, causing my breath to catch. However, I’m able to keep myself stable as the bartender suddenly cuts in, causing Ralph to lean away as he looks towards him. When the bartender steps away again, Ralph nods towards my glass, finally standing.

“Goodnight, Shirley,” he says, his use of my name making me want to shudder - especially as I’m not sure when he learned it. But I’m distracted as Ralph meets my eye one last time, giving me a smile that is completely sinister.

“Enjoy your drink.”

Without another word from either of us, Ralph stalks out of the bar, leaving me frozen on my stool as I stare down at my glass. However, I don’t reach toward it, I don’t even slide my hand to the cold glass to try and cool my heated skin.

I just hear Ralph’s words echo through my head again and again - see that wicked smile that I know will be in my nightmares tonight.

Suddenly, I don’t really feel like drinking.