12
Savannah
The next morning, I woke in Jaxson’s bed with a groan. My body felt like I’d thrown myself from the back of a van at sixty miles an hour.
Shocking.
On the upside, werewolf healing was amazing. A quick check revealed that my broken arm and almost all my lacerations had healed, and only faint scars remained. But that didn’t mean every single part of me didn’t scream bloody murder every time I moved.
I rolled over in the sheets, which smelled intoxicatingly like Jaxson, and searched the bed and pillows for my phone, but I couldn’t find it. Rousting myself with a groan, I slipped into Sam’s spare clothes and checked the bathroom. It wasn’t there, so I stumbled to the kitchen.
There was a tall glass of carrot juice and a pile of painkillers on the black counter waiting for me. I popped them in my mouth and washed them down with the juice. It tingled and danced across my tastebuds, and I looked at the glass with surprise.
Sam stomped around the corner in tall black boots and a sexy leather jacket. “You’re awake!”
“Apparently,” I grumbled. “I assumed that this stuff was for me, but maybe I shouldn’t have. What’s in it?”
“Just a little drop of an elixir Alia whips up for us from time to time. After last night, I figured you’d need it. Also, you need lunch. It’s not going to feel great on an empty belly.”
“Lunch?”
She checked her phone. “Yeah. It’s two p.m.”
“Holy shit.” I hadn’t woken once. There was something soothing about sleeping in Jaxson’s bed, surrounded by his scent, even if he wasn’t in it.
If he’d been in it, you wouldn’t have gotten much sleep, thus defeating the purpose,Wolfie observed.
Yeah. Probably. But as much as my libido was into Jaxson, I wasn’t into domineering, over-possessive, thoughtless alpha types.
Sure, you’re not.
I looked around. “Seen my phone?”
Busy in the middle of a text, Sam nodded absently to the table by the couch. “Jax got you a new one. It’s all set up.”
My eyes widened as I approached the end table. A brand-new iPhone sat atop its rectangular white box. The thing had to be worth over a grand, while my old one had been a bottom-shelf brick from Walmart that barely ran Google Maps.
With delight and trepidation vying for control of my nerves, I picked it up and turned it over. “Let me guess—no strings attached.”
She laughed. “Plenty of strings. You’re going to spend a lot of time on call for bar duty. The customers really like you.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t know about that plan. Some of those customers tried to take me home last night.”
Sam tucked her phone in her back pocket. “That’s why we’re going to pay them a visit. So grab something out of the fridge. Jaxson is on his way and will meet us downstairs in thirty.”
“Where are we headed?”
“Jax got a lead on the Arrowhead Disciples, so the three of us are going to shake down a biker bar.”
My fingers itched as images of the night before flashed into my mind: the greasy bastard who grabbed me at the bar, the asshole decking me in the face, the pricks who forced me down and bound my hands and feet.
I couldn’t hold back my claws, which ripped out of my fingertips. “Let’s go. I’m ready now.”
Sam laughed. “Not looking like that, you aren’t. We’re taking bikes.” She pointed to a stack of clothes on the couch. “I picked out an appropriate outfit for you this morning. Jaxson’s expense, so I got real nice stuff.”
* * *
Ten minutes and a Naked smoothie later, I was admiring myself in the mirror: killer jeans, T-shirt, and a hot-as-shit leather vest with straps and buckles, topped with a pair of designer shades.
Biker-chick chic.
But the best part of the outfit was something Jaxson had already bought for me: my Swiftley speed boots from The Cordswainer’s Curiosities. Kicking ass and chasing down bad guys was the job they were made for.
The part that I wasn’t certain about was my hair. Sam had quickly dyed it with a potion, turning it dark brown with a few faint red highlights. She figured that since the bikers were looking for a redhead, we shouldn’t tip them off immediately.
It was going to take some getting used to, but at least it would wash right out. I pulled it to the side and wondered what Jaxson would think. Not that it mattered.
Turning, I checked out my franklyamazing backside. “You really know my size, Sam.”
She laughed. “Duh. I’m like your personal wardrobe assistant at this point.”
True. She was as tough as nails but patient and generous with me, despite my early attempts to push her away. I gave her a warm smile. “Owe you big time.”
She shoved her hands in her back pockets and kicked out her hip. “Yeah, well, that’s true. You can start paying me back by ripping those assholes a new one.”
I flexed my claws as my wolf leapt against my chest. “Try to stop me.”