Nick sighed. “Derren does what Derren wants to do. He’s always been like that.”

“He doesn’t like me.” She cringed at how petulant she sounded.

“He can’t make that assessment—he doesn’t know you.”

“Neither do you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, baby. I know that you love dancing, drink mainly cocktails, have more stilettos than is reasonable, you don’t like mushrooms or anchovies, and you enjoy listening to music and sketching clothes.”

Startled, words failed her. He’d always ignored her, sometimes even looked right through her, so how could he know anything? “But…but how? You asked Taryn?”

“I told you the first night I came here that I’d missed watching you. I might not have spoken to you whenever I went to Phoenix Pack territory, but I was always paying attention to every single thing you did.”

And that got to her, soothed her wolf’s damaged ego. He was supposed to be an ass so she could continue rejecting him.

“I know you thought I didn’t give a shit.” He briefly massaged her nape. “That’s my fault. Derren used to poke fun at me for how much and how hard I watched you.”

Shaya tried to hold back from asking, but the matter had been playing on her mind since Derren had mentioned it. “He said he owes you his life. Is that true?”

“He owes me nothing. Maybe when he finds his mate, he’ll finally stop following me around.” Derren deserved that kind of happiness, but Nick wasn’t sure if his friend would even recognize his mate while his loyalty was so completely and unnecessarily devoted to Nick.

Part of the reason that Derren was so grateful to him for being alive was that he had been completely determined to track down and kill the person responsible for him being locked up—it had been the only thing keeping Derren going while he was in juvie. Having heard his story, Nick had been able to understand why. That was why he had helped Derren track the bastard down—a bastard who was now very much dead. The problem was that it had made Derren feel even further indebted to Nick. Dumb ass**le.

She should leave it alone, Shaya knew. She should act disinterested. But as she was way too curious for that, she lasted only a few minutes before blurting out, “How did you save his life? In a pack war or something?”

Nick inhaled deeply, hesitating to speak. He really didn’t want to tell her about his past, but he was already keeping so much from her. Telling her at least some things would be fair. Plus, being tight-lipped would lessen his chances of her letting him in. “When we were in juvie—”

“You were in juvie?” Shaya practically squeaked.

“—a group of human guards cornered him and were torturing him with electrical rods and Taser guns while at the same time beating the shit out of him. It looked like they intended to rape him too before finishing him off. That kind of thing happened a lot. Many shifters die in juvie. I intervened and stopped Derren from being one of those very unlucky shifters.”

It took at least two minutes for her to recover from the surprise of his admission. It hadn’t just been what he’d said, it had also been the way he’d said it—emotionless, flat. But she knew better than to think that Nick was aloof about it all. She’d quickly come to understand that the more enraged Nick was, the more toneless his voice became. After giving him a few minutes to calm down, she finally asked, “How did you end up in juvie? What happened?” When he didn’t answer, she pressed him. “Nick?”

“We’re here.” He pulled up outside the salon, relieved to be able to escape the conversation.

Feeling like she’d been dismissed, both Shaya and her wolf bristled. If he wanted to be cagey, fine. Whatever. But, really, it wasn’t fine. Not simply because she was extremely intrigued, but because she wanted to know more about him. Wasn’t that her right?

Realizing she was again being weird, she cursed herself. She shouldn’t be sulking because he hadn’t confided in her. This should be what she wanted. Sharing stories would counteract her effort to keep a distance between them. Trying for nonchalant, she shrugged. “I shouldn’t have asked. Your past is your business.” Before she could open the door, a hand was curling around her throat and turning her head slightly. At the dominant move, her wolf backed down a little.

“I’m not disregarding you,” Nick told her in a low voice. “I just don’t want to scare you off. I don’t have pretty stories wrapped in red bows, Shay. I don’t have fun memories to exchange with you. I wish I did, but I don’t.” He drew circles on her throat with his thumb. “I meant it when I said you deserve better, but I also meant it when I said I wasn’t selfless enough to leave you alone. I can’t risk you running even faster than you already are.” As she nervously licked her bottom lip, a growl rumbled out of him. “Do you have any idea how much I want you? Any idea how much I want to know what’s like to be buried deep inside you?”

At that moment, Shaya had that deer-in-the-headlights feeling. His strong hand was around her throat, tension was riding his body, and his hungry gaze was trained on her mouth—feeding the need that was twisting her insides. It occurred to her just how vulnerable she was—how easily he could hurt her, and just how badly he could hurt her. But he never would, she was certain of that.

Before he lost control and kissed her, Nick released her throat and leaned back. “You need to go.”

Swallowing hard, she nodded. “Thanks for the ride. Bye, Bruce.” The dog merely looked at her blankly.

Once Shaya was inside the salon, Nick moved his gaze to the rearview mirror. Yep, the red Rolls-Royce was still a little distance behind Derren. The car had been following them for the past two minutes. Irritatingly, a white van was also following—the same white van that the human extremists used. Deeply suspecting that the Rolls-Royce was the Nazi’s car and that he had something to say, Nick drove away from the salon, not wanting him anywhere near Shaya. As he suspected, the Rolls-Royce followed him to the local park where Nick had yesterday taken Bruce. Similarly, so did the white van.

As Nick parked in the small, half-empty parking lot at the edge of the park, Derren’s SUV took the space on his left, and the Rolls-Royce took the space opposite Nick’s car. The van pulled up a few cars away from the Rolls-Royce. As Nick got a glimpse of the driver of the van, he noticed the familiar profile. Logan. Fucker.