Chapter~2~Vacation Withdrawl.

Nicholas~

The only thing I got from my vacation was the confirmation that I require a longer, more permanent respite. The dread of returning to my life as usual washes over me as soon as I kill the car's engine in my driveway. I suppose I could sell the house and make my boat my permanent residence.

That would do it, but it would also slowly drive me insane. All that solitude, tranquility, and peace with only Zeek, my wolf, to talk to, would have me needing a straitjacket. We have been hunting bounties since I was 20; it was exciting for us, and the money was easy to come by in the beginning.

Now, seven years later, Zeek has had his fill and reminds me every day that I am getting too old for the bullshit anymore. I lie to myself, saying the next one will be the last, but it never turns out to be. It was purposeful that I did not take a phone or computer with me on my two-week sea excursion.

'Nick, you really stink! Open the damn door already!'

'Oh yeah? Well, let's switch places, Zeek, after we've eaten a couple of pickled eggs?'

After unloading my bags from the car, I dropped them on the living room sofa and went into the bathroom for a shower. My wolf is right; I still smell like the cut bait I used on the boat. The first thing I noticed afterward was that the red light on my answering machine was flashing at me. I breathe deeply, scrubbing my hand over my unshaven face as I see 30 new messages.

'Here we go again!'

'Like you aren't curious what happened to my badass, no-holds-barred Wolf?'

'I am not in the least interested! He got shot a year ago, right along with his human. Did you forget about that, Nick?!'

'But did you die?'

Zeek finds my life choices displeasing, to say the least. Admittedly, our existence would be very different if I had followed the path my father, Alpha Titus Reins, and my wolf had mapped out for us. By now, we would be mated with a few pups running around, and I would hold the respectable title of Alpha for the Moon Hill pack.

'Don't start none and there won't be none, Zeek, of course I remember and don't plan on a repeat.'

I, the renegade, had not wanted the responsibility of being the alpha of a pack. I'd wanted freedom, not obligations so, I left, and my father passed the pack to my brother, Sean, who is a year and a half younger than I am. Still, I have no desire to be the leader of the pack; the settling down and mated part is where my secret regrets lie.

Though my sensibility tells me I'd be no good at it. How does one transition from outlaw to husband and father? Is it even possible? For me, I wasn't so sure; if the bounty hunter is removed from the hunt, does the need for the hunt subside? I hit the play button; guess not today.

'Really, Nick? I'd thought you would have lasted at least a couple of hours. I knew you couldn't give it up.'

Perhaps he is right, so I ignore him. The first message is from my buddy and fellow hunter, Marshal, seeking a partner to accompany him to Mexico. This could be interesting.

'Don't even think about returning that call, Nick!'

'And what are you going to do about it, Zeek?'

'Nothing, and that's exactly what I'll do when you're getting your ass kicked. Maybe you'd learn a lesson!'

'Whatever you need to tell yourself.'

Zeek would never do that to me. The forthcoming perusal of messages held an identical repetition. Each swipe of the 'delete message' trashcan icon cultivated my ever-growing disinterest. I've heard these things and more throughout my extensive career. It's all blah, blah, blah to me.

'I told you so.'

'Put a sock in it, Zeek!'

However, he's right; that is, until I get about halfway through the recordings, this message is from none other than a hemorrhoid on my asswhole, Lycan Ian Steel. My eyes rolled at the sound of his voice.

"Nick, I have a job, call me." He said, and I can feel his excitement.

'Oh, hell no, not for Ian Steel you don't, I mean it, I ain't doing it, Nick!'

'What happened to the sock, Zeek?'

The fast-forward button takes me through a few messages, and I hit play again, but it's still Ian. "Nick, where the hell are you? I found Harley."

That had old Zeek piping a different tune! 'Play the next message, Nick!'

Though we have never met her face-to-face, my wolf has been smitten with Harley from afar throughout most of her adolescence, waiting for her to get her wolf. Subsequently, she vanished; yet, fleeing Ian constituted her finest occurrence.

When she'd made it out, I swore Harley was the one person I would never go after for Ian, no matter how much he offered. Five messages remain; they reiterate the opening two. Ian sounds more frantic in each of them.

'Nick, we must go after her! If you don't, he will send someone else who may hurt her.'

A humorless chuckle escaped me. 'I am a bounty hunter, Zeek. I hurt people for a living.'

'You were a bounty hunter, but you wouldn't hurt Harley, and we could make this last job count.'

Since no one is supposed to know I am home, the car engine outside has my attention, and I pick up my revolver before answering the knock on my door. It is my sister-in-law, Delilah. Who presented an equal threat to my well-being as anyone else who would come looking for me unannounced.

She sashays into my living room, drops the overcoat, revealing her naked form to me, before the temptress comes for her prey. "Did you miss me, Big Bad Wolf?"

"No, Delilah, I haven't missed you." I stop her advance. "I already told you, this isn't happening. It should never have happened." I cross my arms over my chest. "Put your coat back on."

Delilah's hands clenched at her sides, and she stomped her foot like a spoiled child. "I will tell Sean!"

Wasting no time, I crossed the room and opened the door. "Proceed according to your feelings, Delilah, but I remind you who has the most to lose here, and it isn't me."