Wolf (A Little Red Riding Hood Retelling) (Brother's best friend romance) Page 3

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘He thinks you’re an asshole.’

  He startled, ‘We’ve never even met.’

  ‘He’s overprotective.’

  ‘Sure, I get it.’ He closed the space between us and drew me into him. His lips tugged at mine till I opened for him and he kissed me long and deep, ‘Come with me, I’ll take care of you.’

  I didn’t overthink it. If I did, I’d have found a million reasons why I should have stayed and none of them would have been valid. He was right, I had no life. Maybe this was the opportunity I’ve been waiting for, something to turn everything around, a fresh start somewhere new. Grabbing the bull by the horns I gave him my answer. ‘Okay.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ I chuckled and he captured me into a long kiss that ended up with us very naked and very sweaty.

  We got on a plane. Hunter hated the idea and drove to the airport to try and talk me out of it. But it was too late, I cleared customs and there was no way I was going back.”

  The old lady listens in silence, and we eat our plastic meals—which arrived sometime during my pathetic monologue.

  “And now you’re on your way back?”

  I nod with a mouth full of what they classify as food on this airline, in another lifetime it could have been some kind of pasta.

  “And do you have somewhere to go?”

  “Hunter and his roommate have a spare room for me.”

  “And you get on with them?”

  I grind my teeth, grab my wine, and slug the rest of it into my throat. It curdles in my stomach, but that could just be the thought of seeing him again.

  “I guess so.”

  “I see,” she says, and pats my arm as if she gets it and realises that I am, in fact, a hopeless case, “better have another wine then.”

  5

  Red

  My body protests my movements as I lumber off the plane. The stale air and lukewarm wine making my head throb and my eyes blur.

  Exhaustion feels like a word reserved for tired people; I passed it three hundred miles back over the Atlantic, and now I’m well into weariness. It’s not just my limbs that hurt, it’s everything—my body, my mind, my heart.

  I step off the plane and suck a well-ventilated breath of air-conditioned air and my stomach coils. Hunter is angry but he’s still my big brother, and if I’m honest, I can’t wait to see him. Throw myself into his big arms, wait for him to berate me for the allocated five to ten minutes, and then let him take me somewhere safe.

  I find my bag amongst all the others on the carousel, then make my way out towards the arrivals hall. Anticipation bites at my insides and my heart smashes in my chest, reverberating through my entire body. I squeeze my fists a few times in an effort to relax but it makes no difference at all. I’m a knotted ball of anxiety and eagerness, and all I want is to unravel. I suck in one last breath and the doors to the arrivals hall swing open.

  I scan the faces looking for Hunter, but I see him instead. Shaw Bennett or, as he’s otherwise known to everyone else, Wolf. Self-proclaimed lone wolf of Oakridge—no pack, predatory by nature, totally fierce, loyal to a fault, and the last person I wanted to see.

  My heart ceases, and for a short eternity stays dead in my chest. His eyes are cast down to his phone, but then he lifts his head and our gazes collide.

  A charge of anger, disappointment, and dread strikes me like a bolt of lightning, and my heart restarts just as his face stretches into a beautiful, annoying smirk.

  I narrow my eyes at him, and his stupid smile gets bigger. He stands about three heads taller than anyone else in the room. With his wide shoulders and dark hooded eyes, he looks dangerous, just like I know he is.

  No, no, no, no, no, this cannot be happening.

  As I march over, I study his face. He’s not changed at all, just filled out and acquired more angles and sharper features. He remains leaning against the wall, causal as ever, just watching me come to him. As if things were still the same as they were before when I still wanted to go to him.

  “Where’s Hunter?” I don’t bother with pleasantries; I reserve those for people I want to be pleasant with.

  “Nice to see you too Red,” he scoffs as his eyes zero on my face. “Good flight?”

  “I asked you where Hunter was.” I fold my arms across my chest and glare at him. I have to glare, otherwise I would be staring at the man that I used to know as a boy. The boy who grew up alongside my brother and has become a beast of a man.

  “He had a late night and asked me to come get you.”

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Come on, car is this way.” He grabs my suitcase and starts walking away. I reach for the handle and jerk it towards me. He freezes, looks down at me and sniggers, “really?”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you Shaw!” His eyes widen for a second as I use his real name. I yank on the handle and he just smirks, like the mere gesture is completely ridiculous. Of course it is. He’s a goliath at almost seven feet, and I’m barely a full-grown adult at five feet one.

  “Don’t be ridiculous Red. Come on, I’ve had a long night too.”

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  “Well, Hunter asked me to, so I did.”

  “And you only ever do what Hunter says?” I stab at him.

  He shrugs, turns around, and walks off, pulling me along with my suitcase. I sigh, release the handle, and follow him out of the terminal.

  The chilly London air bites at my skin. I draw in a long breath; it feels like it’s been too long since I’ve been back.

  “This way,” he ushers me towards a fancy looking black car that screams ‘I have a shit ton of money and really small dick’. He pops open the trunk and throws my suitcase inside.

  Wolf rounds the car pretending to be a gentleman and holds the door open for me. “Get in.”

  “I already told you, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  He scrubs a hand over his face and his jaw ticks, “Red.”

  “No.” I stand my ground.

  His knuckles blanch as his grip tightens on the door, “Final warning.”

  “No.”

  He glares at me for another beat. “If my presence offends so much, there’s plenty of room in the boot.”

  I gulp at the threat but don’t back down, “Get stuffed.”

  “Suit yourself,” The passenger door slams shut, and in two steps he rounds the car, slides into the driver’s seat, and speeds off like a demon, tyres screeching in his wake.

  It all happens so quickly, it takes me a full minute to realise he’s ditched me at the airport, and he’s taken my stuff with him.

  My pulse hammers and I grind my teeth, considering my options. I could call Hunter but then I’d wake him, and he’d be pissed that I didn’t get in the car with Wolf. On the other hand, it would be so much sweeter to let Wolf deal with the brunt of his anger when he gets to the flat without me.

  The thoughts make me smile, but only for a second when I realise I’ll miss that shit show if I’m still hanging around here.

  Hunter should have never sent Wolf. He should know better. Then again, he probably doesn’t, and that’s how it should stay.

  Shit, I should have gotten in the car.

  I check my bank balance, brother dearest put just enough funds in there to get a coffee and an airport meal.

  Fuck it.

  I wave down a taxi and give him Hunter’s address.

  I flop onto the back seat; the decadent heat engulfs me, and it takes every ounce of strength I have left not to be lulled to sleep by the smooth rocking of the cab.

  6

  Fourteen years ago

  Wolf 14, Red 12

  Red

  Oakridge was the kind of place where the streets stank of vanity and overindulgence. The kind of place where the rich showed off their wealth and opulence, the kind of place Hunter and I didn’t belong.

  Although we’ve lived here our whole lives, we were the outc
asts—the ugly dirt the rest of the neighbourhood tried to sweep under the carpet.

  I don’t exactly know how we ended up in our run-down house. The ugliest house on the prettiest street. But it’s been the only home I ever had. Hunter once mentioned living somewhere else, but his memories from our childhood are like fog, blurry and untouchable.

  I never knew my dad and I thought I knew my mum, until one day she left to go buy a loaf of bread and never came back. Hunter called the police on the second day, when we were both scared and hungry. After a few scary nights at a stranger’s home, they called our only known relative. Our Grandma Julie.

  She didn’t hesitate when child services called, and she came to look after us. Initially she talked about moving away, about fresh starts and new beginnings, but I screamed and cried and begged her to stay. I didn’t want my mum to come back just to find us gone. I always believed she would be back. Then again, back then I was still naïve, and I thought the world was good and that good things happen to good people. Like me. I was only five and I still thought hope was a real thing.

  So, we stayed, and Grandma Julie made that house our home and filled it with a love so rich it belittled the piles of gold our neighbours slept on. We didn’t know it just then, but she was already sick. Sometimes I wonder if she needed us to take care of her just as much as we needed her. She hid it well, for two years we didn’t connect the dots until her ‘mistakes’ became too regular and much too obvious to be swept away as simple oversights. When the doctors spoon fed us her diagnosis, I watched my brother harden, turn into a provider, a caretaker, and an adult. One that would go on to shoulder all our burdens and responsibilities.

  It wasn’t fair. But Hunter never—not once—made me feel guilty about it. Between Grandma and Hunter, I always believed I had everything I needed. Until the first time I saw the new boy at Oakridge High.

  I sat at the top of the stands as I always did, sketching the tree that hung slightly too far to the left and looked cursed. Gnarled, odd branches that somehow clung on despite the tree clearly being dead. My teeth sank into the softening end of my wooden pencil and the metallic lead flavour coated my tongue when I looked up and saw a boy advance on my brother.

  He was taller than Hunter and broader, maybe the mark of a rich boy being fed properly. Fear zinged through me like an electrical current that stopped everything—my muscles, my nerves, my heart.

  He crossed the oval and stormed right at him. I thought Hunter was going to die that day. The boy was twice his size and even at fourteen years old, he carried himself like a rugby player out to break everyone and everything in his path.

  Sadness flowed through me as I watched him close the distance to my brother. He must have heard about us, the poor kids who didn’t wear designer clothes and had an empty lunch box most days. It was like the rest of those rich kids thought poverty was a disease and if they didn’t remind us of our place every day, they would somehow catch it.

  I guess he had to cement his position in the school somehow, and my brother’s face was going to be the way he made his mark. My body seized with fear and knotted with anxiety while Hunter watched him coming.

  He didn’t move. Hunter never moved, he never ran, and he never stayed down. That’s how we survived; Hunter never gave up on us, even when everyone else did.

  Fear crawled inside me as the bigger boy advanced, he was running now, his gaze locked on my older brother.

  I shuddered.

  If he punched him, he could break him.

  I stood on weak, wobbly legs that felt more like fragile twigs than solid bones. My heart chugged in my chest as the bigger boy closed the distance, he was only a few steps away. I slammed my eyes shut. I wanted to scream, but my voice died in my throat.

  When I opened my eyes again, the boy had stopped.

  He looked my brother up and down and they exchanged a few words. The bigger boy smiled, and in the next moment, Hunter let his ball slip to the ground, and they started kicking it around. I fell back into the stands, my fear fizzing in my veins like bubbles in a Coke bottle.

  I watched in fascination. This new kid didn’t seem to care about Hunter’s faded clothes or ruffled hair. He didn’t see him as lesser, he saw him as a boy with a ball. They played, kicking it back and forth, running around the oval like they owned it, till the boy kicked the ball at Hunter and he in return, kicked back wildly, the ball sent reeling and landed by the stands.

  I studied the new boy as he ran over, and at that instant, I knew that everything in my life was about to change. Like the world whispered something in my ear and it echoed inside me silently, waiting for the day I would hear it scream as it reverberated for eternity.

  His dark hair flew about him in a wild frenzy while he chased the ball, long athletic legs and a beautiful smile. He looked up for a second but didn’t see me, but I got a look at his striking brown eyes.

  “Come on Shaw, we don’t have all day,” my brother called to him.

  Shaw.

  Shaw smiled and dribbled the ball then kicked it over to my brother.

  Two things happened that day: Hunter found a friend and I found the first boy that would break my heart.

  7

  Present Day

  Wolf

  The door barges open and Red stumbles in. “There’s a taxi downstairs that needs his fair paid.”

  I look at her like she’s fallen and hit her head and somehow convinced herself that her problems are now mine, “And?”

  “And you need to go downstairs and pay him.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Cause otherwise I’d have to wake Hunter up and tell him he has to, and that will entail an entire explanation of his asshole roommate ditching me at the airport.”

  “Shit,” I grumble under my breath as she shots me a triumphant smile and watches me walk out the door.

  The taxi driver takes three steps back as he sees me walking downstairs towards him. He puts his hands up and the colour drains from his face. It’s a natural reaction from people who see a man my size walking towards them, especially when they’re being hostile, and I’m calm as fuck.

  He’s already apologising like he’s done something wrong, “How much does she owe you?”

  “£75.” He stammers and I pull out my credit card. He seems to sag a bit against his car then grabs his card machine.

  “Make it a hundred, for your troubles.”

  His eyes grow big and he looks at me like I might have made a mistake. I just dip my head once and he doesn’t wait for any more reassurances. He hands me back my card and I turn my back on him, even as he mumbles something about taking his card and being available day and night. I don’t have need for a driver. I need very few things, the most important one is currently getting Red out of my house and putting distance between us as soon as fucking possible.

  My hands still hurt from gripping the steering wheel so tightly. Even though I knew she was about to step out of those double doors she still managed to disarm me completely. I forgot how striking she was with her arresting green eyes and long locks of purple hair. Except now she wasn’t a sixteen-year-old girl anymore, she’s shed her childhood skin like a cocoon and stepped out every inch a woman.

  When I get back upstairs, she’s sitting on the arm of the couch and her bloodshot emerald green eyes are drooping.

  “Where’s my suitcase?”

  “You mean, thank you.”

  “No, I mean where’s my stuff?” She leaps off the couch and takes a step closer, a finger stabbing the air, “I’ve just had a shit day, a long flight and some asshole ditched me at the airport. I’m too tired to do anything other than shower and sleep, so where the hell is my case?”

  I study her face. I haven’t seen her in almost ten years and seeing her now makes everything I put to sleep in my body come alive. She looks exhausted, but even with her tired face and frazzled hair, she’s stunning. “In your room.”

  She glares at me.

  I scowl at h
er, like it’s her fault she has no idea where anything is, “Third room on the left. Bathroom is next door.”

  She just nods like all the energy has been sapped out of her, and she shuffles out of the lounge and disappears into the corridor.

  “Fuck.” I grumble to myself as I realise there’s no fucking way I’m getting any sleep. I grab my phone and my keys and get the hell out of my house.

  8

  Eleven years ago

  Wolf 17, Red 15

  Wolf

  I knock on the door and don’t bother waiting for an answer before I push it open and walk inside this house which feels much like my own. I've been here so many times and spent endless nights here, it belongs to me just as much as it belongs to the Evans’.

  Hunter has been my best friend since that first day I met him on the oval. He didn’t even flinch as I sprinted at him, but his eyes did grow ten times bigger when he figured out I wanted to play with him and not beat the shit out of him.

  He’s become more than just a friend, he’s like my brother. He’s stood up for me and covered up my messes more times than I deserve, and I’ve put down anyone that treated him as anything other than equal.

  Unlike me, Hunter is a good guy. He's always been a good guy because he’s had to be, even at the ripe age of seventeen he already has way too many responsibilities. Responsibilities he took on when he was only seven.

  He never really had a choice.

  It’s made us polar opposites and it’s why we get along so well. He’s the conscious I never had, and he gets to live vicariously through my sexcapades and other stupid shit he doesn’t manage to talk me out of. Of course, he gets laid too. The guy’s testosterone on legs but there’s one girl that always comes first for him no matter what, his sister Red.