Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine

Chapter 22

My father, stepmother, and Evelyn look at each other hesitantly.

My father is about to start pounding on the door, but my stepmother catches his hand. “Let it go.”

I watch from the window in the kitchen.

“Come, let us leave,” she says. “Perhaps the man was released from prison as well! There are all kinds

of people in prison. Who knows why this man had been sentenced to jail? And Tony…he may be some

lowlife convict like Grace…but that male has Alpha genes…”

Evelyn nods. "Come on, dad."

My father hesitates. Then says: ”Let’s wait… If Assistant Director Curtis holds Evelyn accountable in

the future, then we'll think of other ways."

Such posturing!

He doesn't have the guts to come in and challenge Jay now.

“Convicts are not to be trusted,” my stepmother says. Meaning not just Jay, but me too.

It doesn’t come as a surprise, she was always cold to me.

Evelyn frowns. "Had the man just now … really been in prison? He looks unkempt but there is

something familiar about him—”

“Enough.” It’s Jay. “Come away from the window, Sister. Don’t let them think that they have any power

over you.”

He’s right.

“I’m sorry you had to see all of that,” I tell him. “It’s embarrassing.”

Jay shrugs.

"Thank you." If Jay had not come back, I would have been beaten by my father just now.

My eyes burn.

I’ve always been the outcast, the unwanted one.

Even as a victim these last years, they still don’t want to help me.

Only to use or hurt me.

"Don't thank me for the help, Sister. Isn't it what I should do?" He points at my ankle. Then scoops me

back up into his arms as if I don’t weigh anything.

“Jay!”

He laughs and spins me then sets me gently back on the bed. ”It hasn't healed yet. I'll apply the arnica

for you."

This man was ready to beat the shit out of my father. Now, he’s kneeling beside my bed, rubbing my

foot and taking care of me.

“I feel like I’m in some kind of fairytale.”

He snorts and glances around the tiny apartment.

Alright, so that’s a stretch. “You know what I mean. My very own knight-in-shining-armor.”

Jay is quiet and his brows draw together. He tends to my ankle then wraps it carefully. The whole time,

he doesn’t say a word. Then he finally stands and his eyes are bottomless and black when they meet

mine.

“I’m no hero, Grace. Don’t ask me to be.”

I bite my lip.

I hate that he thinks of himself as anything less than the man I see in him. Because he is good and

honest and true. He’s put himself in harm’s way for me twice now, and he asks nothing in return.

He treats me better than my own family.

“You’re a good man, Jay,” I say softly. “I won’t put you up on a pedestal or make you uncomfortable, but

your actions speak for themselves. And you’ve always been honorable to me.”

He flinches and then his face goes blank. I’ve seen this look on him before. When he’s building up his

own walls or has emotions that he doesn’t want me to see.

I tilt my head. “I know I haven’t known you long. And I know my senses aren’t as sharp without my

wolf…but I can still see what’s right in front of me.

He nods and I take it as his way of letting the conversation go.

But I can’t let it go. Not yet anyway. Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

I bite my lip. Then I slide over on the bed. He sits at the end of it and lifts my foot so it’s elevated on top

of his knee.

"Why don't you ask me what those three came here for?"

"I won't ask if you don't want to tell," he says.

“I appreciate that. But it’s nothing difficult to say. They are my father, stepmother, and half-sister.”

“Okay.”

"But now, they are no longer my problem."

After hesitating for a moment, I prompt again, "Don't you have anything else to ask?"

He shrugs.

“I know you would have heard my father scolding me in front of you, saying that I had been in prison.”

“So?” His eyelashes flicker, then he lifts his eyes. "What do you wish me to ask?

I wish he wouldn’t drag this out.

I’m ashamed of what happened. Of the accident. Everything I lost. Of the time I spent in jail. I’ve made

my peace with it, but this is the first time that Jay is learning of it.

I can only imagine what he must think.

"I was sentenced to three years in prison for drunk driving and killing a person, Jay. I was released not

long ago."

He’s silent. Many people would change their attitude when they heard something like that. After my

release, I learned very quickly how people would change their opinions of me. Every time I applied for a

job, the interview would start out great and then once they learned of my conviction, their smiles would

turn to sneers and they would ask me to leave. And that was on the human side.

For those few interviews that were wolf-owned companies… it was having no pack affiliation. Turns out,

no one wants to hire a rogue.

Being exiled from my pack, I couldn’t even approach any old friends or pack mates to see if they might

hire me. They are banned from communicating with me.

“Jay, there’s a reason I pick up trash for a living. No one else will hire me.”

“Okay,” he says.

To what part?

As I wait for his reaction, for him to say something or judge me with his beautiful eyes, I feel as edgy as

I did when I stood before the Pack Council awaiting their verdict.

“Okay,” he says again. Then he resumes lightly massaging my ankle.

"That... that's it?" I blink in surprise. "You don't mind?"

"Why should I mind?" he asks. "As you said, from now on, we only need to care about each other, and

there is nothing else to care about."

My heart seems to swell in my chest.

My eyes fill with tears.

I’m not sad. I’m not quite happy. I’m just overwhelmed with emotion.

I’ve lost everything, and yet, here, with a total stranger, I’ve found acceptance.

How ironic that my family—who should’ve loved me unconditionally—were completely incapable of this.

"Jay, I am so lucky to have met you."

Something dark flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone in an instant.