Home > Tarian Outcast (New Tarian Pride #3)(4)

Tarian Outcast (New Tarian Pride #3)(4)
Author: T.S. Joyce

“I don’t understand,” he said, pulling her arm and spinning her toward him.

She didn’t meet his eyes. She stared right down at his shoes. “I was gonna marry him.”

“What happened?”

Stupid, stupid tears running down her stupid cheeks. “He didn’t show up. Walk safe, Shifter Man. You covered my boobs tonight, and that was really cool of you. You stuck up for a stranger. I thought nice boys didn’t exist, but you proved me wrong. Thank you for that.”

“Wait, he didn’t show up? For your wedding?”

She gave him a cheeky smile. “My dress was really pretty. His loss.”

“Lie.”

“What?”

“Lie. I can tell when a person doesn’t believe what they’re saying, and your voice shook like a damn leaf in the wind on those two words. It is his fuckin’ loss. Fuck him.” A snarl ripped from his throat. Okay, she changed her mind. Shifter Man was a little scary. He lurched forward and yanked the phone out of her hand.

What are you doing?” she asked as he gave her his back.

Shifter Man lifted the phone to his ear and, oh hell, this was bad, bad, bad. You didn’t give the snake, aka her ex-fiancé, attention! You gave him the cold shoulder and hoped he got bored, found another hoochie to entertain him for a while!

“She’s busy,” he growled into the phone.

Oh, God, had he just called Dayton? Katy tried to grab the phone from his hand, but he twisted away from her.

“With me,” Shifter Man said. “She found a real man. You didn’t make the cut, you needle-dicked little soul-sucker. That’s what you do, right? You drain her until there’s nothing for you to play with anymore. You had your shot, you missed and, holy fuck, did you miss big. She’s got the softest tits I’ve ever felt, the best lips, best sense of humor and, God, can she kiss. Your existence doesn’t matter anymore, fuckboy. She found something better. Text her again, and I’ll drive to your fucking house and pull your guts through your mouth hole.”

Oh God, oh God, oh God! She lunged for the phone again, but the angry lion shifter palmed her face and kept her at arm’s length. She wasn’t currently smart enough to figure out an escape from his professional wrestler move, so she just swung her arms wildly at him, hoping to land a punch, which she did not. And then she gasped when he released her suddenly because she fell hard into his stony torso. He wrapped his arm around the back of her neck, pulled her up on her tippy-toes, and then that golden-eyed snarly man kissed her.

And he.

Kissed.

The hell out of her.

There was tongue. But like the yummy kind of tongue. Not too much, not too little. Like…a professional amount of tongue. She just parted her lips and let him on in like some floozy. Her legs went numb and buckled, but no worries. The big and powerful shifter held her in place, squished against his sexy body.

She didn’t understand what was happening until she heard the click of her phone camera.

And then he released her, making sure she was nice and propped up against the nose of the minivan. As her heart pounded out of her chest cavity and she huffed breath like she’d just run a damn marathon, he sent the smooching picture to her ex.

In a swirl of action, he handed her back the phone, the autograph, and the pen, and then did an about face and sauntered away like one of those sexy action heroes walking away from an explosion. Which he basically was, because her ovaries just went boom.

“My name is Kannon!” his deep voice echoed behind him as he disappeared into the dark.

“Whoa,” she whispered to herself as she stood splayed against the minivan. “Even his name is cool.”

Chapter Five

Whore.

That one word had taken her from the highest high to the lowest low.

Katy had been driving to the hotel in a daze, actually going the speed limit, hands on ten and two. She’d pulled up to the first red light in town, and her cell phone on the passenger’s seat had lit up with a text from Dayton.

Whore.

That was all it said.

She’d never been called that before, and it felt like a slap right across the face.

That word was dangerous and unfair to a woman, and it made her feel differently about Dayton. Made her respect him even less.

She was single, allowed to move on like he’d done before he’d even ditched her at the altar. She’d never called him names, never screamed at him or tried to emotionally destroy him. She’d gotten quiet and sad and disappeared from all social media, from her friends, from her family, from the world, until he’d decided for the twentieth time he wanted her back and wanted to try again.

She wasn’t the whore.

He was.

A burning built in her chest, and there was that grit she’d waited for, that seed of anger at how unfair everything had been.

She hadn’t been pissed when she’d sent all the wedding presents back or as she struggled to pay for the wedding that never happened. Anger had never filled her chest as she’d explained to friends and family that Dayton had simply changed his mind on forever. Only shame. Only sadness. Only feeling like not enough.

But as she coasted along the quiet streets of Telluride, she couldn’t stop the word on repeat that echoed through her head.

Whore.

Whore.

Whore.

A piece of her was finally starting to hate Dayton.

With a frown, she parked in the hotel parking lot and pulled her phone off the passenger’s seat to stare at that awful, degrading word lighting up the screen again. She’d slept with two people her entire life, both serious relationships. Dayton had slept with dozens, but would he ever be called a whore? No. Men were called studs. Higher numbers made them heroes to their friends. She wanted to puke.

Blood boiling, she opened up her main social media account and re-activated it. Then she changed her relationship status from it’s complicated to single and swore to herself that she would never speak of her love life on it again. Her cousin commented on it almost immediately. About fuckin’ time. Fuck that loser. Hey Dayton, if you and your dumb friends are still watching her, I’m talking about you. You’re the loser.

Another comment came through from her aunt. You’re better off without that dead weight. Good to see you back on here.

And another. You deserve better. See you tomorrow, sweet girl. First round of drinks is on me. It was from Drea, her best friend.

What was this feeling swirling in her chest cavity? Relief? Heartache? Did a heart ache if it didn’t exist anymore? Was it pride in herself that she’d taken a tiny step in her emotional journey and stood up for herself? Perhaps it was all of them, and she had someone to thank for kick-starting it all. Kannon. He’d gotten angry on her behalf and put an instant stop to Dayton’s manipulation. He was strong. One of those iron-willed men who didn’t take shit from anyone. It had stunned her when he’d threatened to pull Dayton’s innards from his mouth. He’d said it with such conviction that Katy had believed him. Kannon was dangerous, but he’d aimed that terrifying energy at the man who’d hurt her. She knew it was dumb, but to her, Kannon had turned into her own personal hero tonight. In more ways than one.

The old her would’ve felt guilty about all the vitriol aimed at Dayton in the comments of her relationship status change. She hadn’t mentioned him, but apparently the people in her life had been waiting for this. Maybe they’d been waiting to see any spark of strength, because Katy knew what she’d been. Weak for years. They’d been waiting to see a little backbone.

So, fuck it. She was leaving the status announcement up, and Dayton and his dumb friends could read it or not. It wasn’t her problem if they were still watching her. It was theirs.

Sorry, not sorry and all. Signed, The Whore.

Katy opened the picture that Kannon had taken of them. Honestly, she’d opened it up for an escape as she sat here in the quiet minivan, her head loud with that devastating word. She’d wanted an escape from the pain of that slap. Whore.

The picture of the kiss was clear and sharp. Their faces were bright from the high beams, his arm around the back of her neck like they were in the throes of a passionate kiss, and not just a surprise lip-lock. His grey beanie was pushed to his hairline, exposing just a little of his black hair, his cheekbones chiseled in the lighting. The corner of his lip was curved up like he was smiling. It was probably a wicked smile, but in the picture, he looked happy. And so did she. Her hair was flipped to the side and hung down her shoulders in shiny waves. She couldn’t have taken a better picture with a boy if they’d staged it. The spontaneity made it kind of beautiful.

Behind them, there were fireflies in the dark woods that lined the empty road. It was cold for fireflies, but okay. How pretty.

When she zoomed into the tiny gold lights, her smile fell from her face. The lights were all in pairs.

Those weren’t fireflies at all.

Chills rippled up her spine.

They were the glowing eyes of animals.

Katy huffed a breath and turned off her phone in a rush. They’d been surrounded by animals, and she hadn’t even realized it. Had Kannon? Was he okay? Were those just his friends? His Pride members? Or whatever they were called? What if he’d been attacked after she’d driven away? What if they were bears or wolverines or rabid beavers or something?

She twisted in the driver’s seat and her stunned attention landed on the suitcases, plural, because Kannon’s luggage was definitely still back here, resting right on top of hers.

Shit.

He’d forgotten his suitcase? Maybe the whole kiss incident had wiped his brain cells, too.

She hefted her suitcase out of the van, closed the door, locked it, and then dragged it into the hotel lobby. She checked in and made her way to the elevator to find her floor. Good, old room number 369. She smiled to herself as she made her way out of the elevator. Her room number really had 69 in it. Befitting of someone like her, hashtag she’sahooooooo. Katy belted out a single, echoing laugh and scared a man down the hallway who was trying to get into his room.

   
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