C20 Neither do you

"Put a hand on her again. If you look at her wrong again, I'll put you under, got it?"

Pete smiled at the people gathered behind us. "Let me go, or I'll make sure my dad..."

Spencer slammed him against the wall a second time. "Let your father do as he pleases. I don't have a fucking dime to give you, and if you want me thrown in jail, I'll make sure I get thrown in for something worthwhile." He leaned closer, sneering in Peter's face. "She's too good for you. And you know it, don't you, you piece of shit? So stay away from her." He grabbed Peter's wrist and twisted it hard. Peter shrieked loudly, the pain on his face clear to see. "Now you know what it feels like."

Spencer let go and grabbed me by the shoulders, pulled me out of the arcade and took me straight to the range.

Then he took me home and taught me all the dirty moves to take a person down, lecturing me about not letting anyone get close enough to hurt me again. Then he bought me ice cream, telling me I was worth more than that shit, whether it came from money or not.

The memory came out of nowhere, shining through the shittiest of days. Things may have gone back to normal between us after that, but he had cared about me in my darkest moment, had had my back at a time when my heart was broken, and I had taken an interest in his work ever since, helping him in my spare time.

I couldn't allow an innocent to suffer, let alone my only family. No matter what Spencer had done, he had never done it with bad intentions. But now here I was, torn between him and a man I had just met, one who spoke to me without needing words and who didn't deserve what I had to do.

How could I choose?

Tears finally fell from my face, splashing my hand. I continued to draw the trees, letting myself feel a sense of loss. Loss of control. Unable to embrace inaction any longer. All to make a decision that would destroy another.

I felt caged, trapped, so I traded the sun for a moon, the trees curving into Paul's face . The edges, the soft lines, everything gushed out of me, like a waterfall. Perhaps Paul would never understand my future actions, but someday he might understand this....

Beneath his face, I drew how I felt it, not how I saw it, conjuring the sketch of a wolf. The trees and the moon became his crown.

I wasn't sure why I had chosen a wolf to represent him. But that was how she saw him. A leader, an alpha male, someone who led his people from behind, not in front, making sure they were safe. I hoped he understood from my outline that I would never risk his home, his people or his people. No matter how much I had to risk him.

Darkening the shadows, lifting the light from the page, I worked quickly and effortlessly, letting the pencil become an extension of me. I poured into him what I felt about him: his strength, his determination, the way he embraced both sides of who he was.

Finishing the final touches, I blinked back to reality, my hand aching. But what I witnessed nearly shattered my heart.

It was him, but in a way I couldn't articulate.

Power, strength, honor.

A knock on the door made me jump out of my skin. Not knowing what Rose wanted, I shouted, "Wait a minute!".

Wiping my tear-stained cheeks, I sniffled, trying to wipe away the evidence of my tears. I finally opened the door and gasped, "Paul ?".

"Hi." He smiled shyly. "I hope you don't mind that I came upstairs."

"I ..." I didn't know what to say. "No. Of course not. About earlier..."

"It was my fault." He glanced over his shoulder, checking the hallway. "May I come in?"

"Sure. I waved him through and wrapped my arms around myself so as not to grab him. "I'm sorry I ran away. It's just..."

"No. I shouldn't have pushed you or rushed you. That's my fault."

The way he looked at me, like I was an innocent virgin, annoyed the hell out of me. "Paul , I'm a grown woman. If I didn't want you to touch me, I would have stopped you long before you got into my underwear."

Her upper lip twisted. "Is that true?"

"Yes. But the timing of it all. The situation. It sucks, to be honest. And I think if we'd gone any further, we both would have regretted it."

"We wouldn't."

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you."

My mind tried to come up with an answer. Paul stalked, stalking into the room. I lifted my chin. In defiance. I don't know, but I didn't move, waiting for him to close the distance between us.

His foot touched something on the floor and he paused to see what it was. "Your drawing." He picked up my sketch pad. "I almost stepped on it..." He hesitated, looking at the drawing I had made of him. I froze, in the same panic that always assailed me when people looked at my work, especially when it was something so personal.

He frowned. "You said you had learned to see beyond what people see. With your art."

"That's my definition, yes," I replied warily. "But it's still just an opinion. I didn't mean to offend if...".

"It doesn't offend me." He looked me in the eye, unsure. "Can I keep it?"

"Sure."

He nodded distractedly. "I have to go."

"Go?"

"Yes. I have a meeting." She hesitated. "I need to ask you something."

"Okay." My brow furrowed in confusion. "Like what?"

"What's your plan before you leave?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"With us. When Mary's fixed your truck. What's your plan?"

What are you getting at? "I don't have a plan.... I mean..."

"With us," he blurted out. "What would your plan be with us, before you leave?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it."

"Lara..."

Shit! She's getting suspicious. And why wouldn't she? I said I'd broken down on my way to a funeral and here I was, showing no urgency, going on dates with him, making plans with Mary . I had become too complacent, too comfortable. No wonder he was acting weird. Everything had gotten out of control. And I had to act fast.

"Could we go dancing?" I suggested, thinking of my plan to drug him and get him out of town. "Or maybe go out of town for a picnic. Just the two of us."

"Dancing?"

"Or a picnic. It could be like another date, maybe?"

I looked down at the ground, feeling like an idiot. How stupid. But it would be easier to drug him somewhere where people didn't know him if he said no to the picnic. When he got dizzy, I could say he was drunk, take him to the truck and wait for him to pass out. Then, I would handcuff him and load him into the back of my truck, taking care of him along the way. I'd use the time to show Scott , get Spencer to safety and then try to get the three of us out of Shitville.

"Dancing sounds great," he replied tersely. But he wasn't happy about something. "There's a place called The Gray Robin not too far from town. I can take us there."

No. I'll drive." I cleared my throat from nerves. "It'll give me a chance to get the truck running before I take it back out on the road. And it will give us a chance to say..." I sighed.