The Alpha's Fight: Huntsville Pack Book 3 (10 page)

"I
knew
I liked you." Tillie flashed a happy smile. "A wolf who will share will also watch your back." 

Lia made a non-committal noise and studied the license—
her
license, she had to keep reminding herself that—wanting to feel a connection to her name, but only emptiness filled her. Knowing who she was didn't bring back any sense of memory. She was still blank on the inside. But at least she had a name and a place now. It was a start.

"And I'm from Oregon?" She looked at Ryder. "Are we in Oregon?"

"No. Tennessee."

"Why the moon am I in Tennessee?"

"We don't know that yet, the sheriff is still investigating. We'll get you home just as soon as we can." Ryder tossed a plastic bag to her. "I got you a starter pack."

Lia caught the bag, the speed of her reflexes startling her. She kept forgetting how fast she could move. "A starter pack?"

"Some clothes. You can buy more in town."

Lia—it was just as strange to think of herself as Lia as it had been to adjust to Jane—peered into the bag. "Oh, thank you." She pulled out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that said Hudson on the front. The underwear made her blush. It was lace and it seemed awfully intimate for a man she barely knew to be buying something like that for her...even if he did smell better than dessert.

"Ooo, pretty," said Tillie catching sight of the panties. "I'm going to be a good grandma and not ask how you know anything at all about women's underwear."

Lia quickly stuffed everything back into the bag as heat crept up her cheeks.

Ryder cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling. "I had to guess on some of the sizes because they didn't have your size in everything. I hope it all fits okay."

"I'm sure it will be fine." The bra looked perfect, actually. She wasn't as thrilled with the underwear which was a skimpy thong. However, she couldn't help but smile.
I know what kind of underwear I like. I didn't remember that before.
Funny how the oddest things could trigger a moment of discovery like that.

"Does this mean I can leave now?" She gestured to her purse.

"Not yet. The sheriff is still investigating. Do you remember anything new from that night?"

She shook her head. "No. I have a sense of motion and I remember hearing things like growls and crashes, but I don't know where I was or why." And just like that, the triumph over her underwear preferences evaporated.
There are so many holes in my memory, I could be Swiss cheese.

"I know where you were. It's a bar called the Rowdy Howl. Kind of a rough place."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I can't picture you there."

Lia thought about it and decided she couldn't picture herself in a seedy bar either. She wasn't even tempted by the nursing home's open bar. Alcohol wasn't her thing. "I must've had a reason though."

Ryder nodded. "I know. I thought I could give you a lift into Hudson. If you want, we could stop by the Rowdy Howl on our way and see if being there helps you remember something."

"You mean now? We're going today? Why?" she asked.

"Unless you have something better to do here in retirementville? I thought you might like to buy some more clothes and we can check in with the sheriff, see if he has any new info. And the Rowdy Howl will be empty, so we won't run into any trouble." He stood and waved for her to do the same. "Come on. It's perfect weather for a ride."

Lia ran back to her room and swapped out her scrubs for the clothes Ryder had brought her. The shirt was a little big and the thong was a lot like dental floss in a very wrong place, but otherwise the clothes were perfect. The soft cotton felt so much better on her skin than the scrubs ever had, but she had to be honest, the underwear made her a little growly.

"All set?" Ryder asked when she stepped into the hallway outside of her room. "The clothes look good."

"Yeah, thanks."

"Shall we go?"

"Lead the way." She waited until he headed down the hall to take a little sideway step to try and loosen the thong a bit.

Noticing she hadn't kept up, he looked back. "You coming? Or are you really a turtle shifter and this is your maximum speed?"

"There are turtle shifters?" She hurried to close the distance between them.

He shrugged. "Haven't met one, but anything's possible. I met a sloth shifter once, though."

She blinked at him, trying to picture that. "A sloth? Really?"

"Yep. They move about as fast as syrup in a freezer."

Ignoring the thong, she fell into step with him. "How did you meet him...or her?"

"I've been places, I've seen things."

"What things?"

"I was part of the Pack League." At her blank look, he added, "I was a pro-fighter."

"Oh. That's...nice."

He laughed. "Nice? I can tell you aren't into sports."

Lia shrugged. "I wouldn't know if I am or not. I don't remember ever watching any kind of game or fight."

"Trust me. If you loved sports, you'd be more excited.'"

"How would you know?"

"Because true sports fans never use the word nice. I've met lots of people. I know what loving sports looks like. Anyway, I used to travel all over for fights."

"Hence the sloth shifter."

"Yep. Hence the sloth. Among other interesting people." By then they'd reached the front entrance of Crescent Pines. He held the door open for her and waved to the security guard. "I'll have her back in a few hours."

***

T
he day that greeted her outside of the nursing home burst with sunshine and a pleasant summer breeze. Lia blinked as she adjusted to the sudden influx of light. She sucked in the smell of clean air, expelling the odors from Crescent Pines in one big whoosh. The nursing homes of the world—shifter or human—really should invest in some good aromatherapy.

Ryder led her to a black motorcycle with a scratched finish. Handing her a helmet, he said, "Put this on and hop on." He patted the back of his bike.

He put on his helmet, a glossy black that matched the bike's finish and swung a leg over his seat. The motor started with a roar that made Lia jump, her fingers fumbling with the helmet's chin strap. She climbed up behind him and slipped her hands around his waist, trying hard not to notice how firm and solid he was. Her senses went on high alert and flooded her with urges—inappropriate ones that blazed through her like wildfire.

"Hang on," Ryder yelled back to her.

Lia clenched her arms and thighs as the bike shot off more like a rocket than an earthbound vehicle. She had no choice but to cleave tight to him. It was either that or let the speed blow her right off the bike. Between her reaction to Ryder and the dratted thong, it was going to be a very long ride.

They rode along curved hills for about a half hour which was just enough time, as it turned out, for Lia to lose her mind. The urges were winning. With the vibration of the bike between her legs, she found her mind filled with pictures of Ryder and her naked. The intensity of her imagination set her squirming and, to her embarrassment, Ryder noticed.

"Stay still," he yelled over his shoulder. "The curve up ahead is pretty steep. So whatever dance you're doing, stop it. Lean with me."

"Sorry," she said, but the wind stole her words, tossing them behind her.

He gunned the motor and the bike picked up speed. Lia forced herself to look at the sky and the blur of forest streaming past them in an effort to keep her thoughts pure. For whatever reason, Ryder sent her libido into overdrive. Maybe Tillie had been right. Maybe they did smell good together. It wasn't like she really knew the guy or had any other rational reason to react the way she did. One whiff of Ryder and her headspace got all kinky and overheated.

Not that she would ever act on it.

Because the last thing someone who had no idea who they were needed was to start a new relationship.
If I do have a mate, they'll end up fighting over me and someone will die.
The violence of that knowledge—which she hadn't realized she possessed until then—hit her like a punch.

***

T
he Rowdy Howl sat off the road, hidden behind a tall row of pine trees. There was no road and the only way to find it was to already know its location. Ryder pulled his bike up to the building—a large, windowless log cabin—and cut the engine.

Pulling off his helmet, he turned back to Lia. "We're here."

She squinted up at the weathered sign above the door. Someone had carved the bar's name into the wood. The cabin had seen better days, some of the logs appeared rotten and showed signs of animals chewing on the wood. Down at the end, she thought she saw claw marks, deep gouges in parallel lines as if someone had been trying to hold onto the building. "Yeah, I see that."

"Anything look familiar?"

Lia hopped off the bike. Removing her helmet, she handed it to Ryder. "No. Not yet." But she shivered as she said it. The forest had gone still around them. No birds sang and even the wind stopped moving. Everything seemed to be holding its breath. It made her spine itch.

Or maybe that was just the thong.

Lia took a step to the side, hoping to dislodge the tight underwear a bit.

Looking at the small clearing in front of the building she said, "How did I get here? Did I have a car? Did someone bring me?"

Ryder shrugged. "I don't know."

She studied the door, both afraid and curious about what she would find inside. What had happened to her in this place? And why had she been there?

Ryder strode over to the door, his boots thudding against the ground, and opened it. Waving her in with a hand, he said, "Shall we?"

Lia nodded and tried to walk as confidently as Ryder, not wanting to show how much the bar affected her. Confronting her recent past when she still had no real sense of the present made her heart pound.

The bar was dark, the only light from a few naked light bulbs in the ceiling. Shadows crept in from the corners, the darkness swallowing up details. A few waitresses looked up when they stepped inside. One stood behind the bar, checking off bottles of liquor on a list. Another wiped down tables while a third swept the floor.

"We're not open 'til dusk," said a lithe blonde as she swung the broom back and forth.

"Sorry. We just wanted to see the place." Ryder tilted his head toward Lia. "She was here a few days ago and is having a hard time remembering what happened."

"I think I remember you," said the blonde. She stopped sweeping, and leaning on the broom, gave Lia a once-over. "You got hurt pretty bad."

"Yes, that's right," Lia said, unable to keep the anxiousness out of her voice. "Do you know what happened?"

The blonde shrugged. "A fight. Like always." She pointed to the tables. "They've been smashed to bits so often, we stopped screwing them back together and just use duct tape."

"Did I do anything? Say anything?"

The blonde shook her head. "Sorry. We're too busy to really pay attention to anything but the next drink order."

"Or diving for cover when the fists start swinging," added the other waitress wiping down the tables. She had long red hair and dark eye liner around her green eyes.

"That, too," the blonde agreed. "I only remember you just because you almost died. Took me hours to get the blood stains off the floor." She pointed with her foot to a spot on the floor that was darker than the rest of the wood.

Lia stared at it, desperate to remember but coming up with nothing.

"Is Anita here?" Ryder asked.

All three waitresses looked at him in unison. No one said anything for several long seconds. Nervous, Lia stepped behind Ryder.

"She's in back. I'll get her," sighed one of the women finally.

Anita turned out to be a tiny woman with lots of hair. Her braid reached past her hips and Lia couldn't fathom the amount of work it took to deal with so much hair. Her dark eyes, big on her delicate face, met Lia's.

"Oh, it's you." She drew back as if not wanting to get too close.

"Do you know me?" Lia almost choked on the words, her heart had climbed so far up her throat.

Anita shook her head slowly. "No. I know your purse though." She pointed to the bag hanging on Lia's shoulder. "You look like the picture on your license."

"Do any of you recognize me?" Lia called out to the rest of the women. One by one they looked at her and shook their heads. Focusing back on Anita, she asked, "Can you tell me what happened the night you found my purse?"

Anita frowned at her and crossed her stick-thin arms. "There was a fight. That's all I know."

"Mason was here," Ryder murmured to Lia.

"He was back over there." Anita waved to a dark corner at the far end of the bar.

Lia took two steps toward it, but then stopped short. Something pressed against her skull and made her brain throb. She closed her eyes, trying to push past the discomfort to the place where her memory hid from her. It all sat just out of reach. She could feel it, knew it was there, but finding the path to it or the key to unlock it was beyond her.

A warm hand cupped her elbow and from the scent of leather, she knew it was Ryder. "You okay? You're swaying."

She opened her eyes and looked at him. "I'm good. Thanks. Just trying to remember." She went to the spot Anita had indicated. A large circular table stood in the shadows surrounded by wooden chairs. When she touched the back of one of the chairs, it wobbled under her hand, the legs uneven. Pulling it out, she sat. The top of the table was sticky and the smell of old beer filled her nose.

"Mason," she whispered to herself. "How do I know you?"

Ryder settled into a chair next to her. "I can't picture you in this place."

"I know. Me neither." She shrugged. "But maybe being knocked on the head changed me. Maybe I was a big partier. Maybe I was always in trouble and running with the wrong crowd."

Ryder chuckled. "Well, you're still in trouble and I wouldn't call living in a nursing home running with the
right
crowd. That hasn't changed."

"I don't know. I might be a completely different person now. What if I was a criminal?" She bit her lip, disturbed by the thought.  Something flashed at the edges of her mind, and chasing it, she closed her eyes, rubbing her forehead with one hand to encourage it.