penis.”
They all turned to stare at the other honey badger and Livy shrugged those massive shoulders and admitted, “I know, I know. I should stop talking.”
Berg headed deep into the apartment until he found the bathroom Charlie was in. She’d put on jeans and was bent over at the waist, finger-combing her wet hair. Not wanting to startle her, he quietly waited. But Berg was having a hard time not staring. She looked really good in those jeans.
Then Charlie abruptly stood and Berg realized she wasn’t wearing a shirt. Just a sheer, lacy bra. He was so surprised, he tried to turn away but rammed into the doorway instead, nearly knocking himself out.
* * *
Charlie was reaching for a comb when she heard that thud, followed by a “Dammit!”
She looked toward the bathroom doorway, but all she saw was a blur.
“Sorry,” a voice said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No problem.” She combed her hair off her face.
“And I thought you were more . . . dressed.”
Charlie squinted down at herself. “The nips are hidden.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing, nothing.” She looked at herself in the mirror, trying to figure out what to do with her hair. “So what do you need?”
There was a pause, then . . . “Do you know who I am?”
There was a room full of big guys in Livy’s apartment and she still wasn’t wearing her glasses. She was lucky to recognize Livy. So she took a guess.
“Deuteronomy?”
“That is not my name.”
She didn’t have time to worry about some sensitive guy’s issues. She had so much on her mind at the moment that she really couldn’t be bothered. Still, she didn’t want to be completely rude. “How about you give me a hint,” she suggested.
“Okay, I gave you a very nice, very expensive Ruger.”
Shocked by that response, Charlie turned from the mirror and really studied the blur standing in front of her.
“You gave me a Ruger?” she asked, “No one has ever given me a . . .” She took a small step back. “Oh, my God.”
Charlie couldn’t help but smile. “It’s you,” she cheered. “My giant, helpful blur!”
“The name is Berg. Berg Dunn.”
“I can’t believe it.” She really couldn’t. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here.”
She frowned. “With Livy?”
“No.” He suddenly chuckled, shook his head. “No. Not with Livy. I live here in New York. Queens.”
Rubbing her hands on her jeans, Charlie moved closer to the blur. “I am so sorry I didn’t know who you were earlier. No wonder you were hurt. But I am really glad to see you again because I didn’t have a chance to thank you—”
“It’s not necessary.”
“It is. Other than my sisters, no one ever helps me. Especially not strangers. You could have easily locked you and that smaller, paler blur in the bathroom and let me fight my own battles. You didn’t. So I owe you big. I just . . .” Charlie briefly closed her eyes. “Well, right now, I have some other . . . issues to deal with. And your Ruger was dismantled and dispersed across a large swath of Italy.” Charlie stood straight, refusing to let the shame of her life bow her. “But I promise. I will pay you back.”
The blur leaned against the doorway. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about paying my debts.”
“For what? You were being hunted. What was I supposed to do? Not help?”
“Most people wouldn’t.”
“We look out for each other. We’re shifters.”
“Oh. Okay. Sure.”
“Wow,” he suddenly said. “You really didn’t recognize me until I mentioned the Ruger, did you?”
“Not really.”
“How is that possible? You’re definitely a shifter. I saw your claws. You should at least know my scent by now.”
“Allergies,” Charlie admitted, pointing at her nose. “Can’t smell anything right now. From May until at least October—sometimes December—I am living on decongestants and Benadryl. And, after making that mad dash out of my room and falling into your life, I don’t have prescription strength anything, including my nasal spray, which I can’t tell you how much I miss.” She rubbed her nose. “It’s so itchy right now.”
“So you can barely see and you can’t smell anything . . . but you can clothesline your sister?”
“I’ve been clotheslining my sister for a very long time now. And trust me when I say she deserved it.”
Charlie turned back to the mirror and decided to put her hair in a high ponytail since she didn’t have access to a blow dryer with a diffuser.
“I’ve never met a shifter your age who has eye problems that weren’t caused by some kind of strange work accident.”
“I believe that.” Charlie began pulling her hair into a ponytail. “But ya know . . . it’s my father’s fault.”
“Your father’s fault?”
“He has the most fucked-up genes . . . ever.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the majority of my flaws and my sisters’ flaws are due to our sperm donor. He is absolutely and unequivocally the reason that we’re all freaks.”
“I wouldn’t say you’re freaks,” the blur said on a chuckle, placing her hairband in her palm.
“Oh, trust me,” Charlie admitted. “We are such freaks.”
* * *
“They are such freaks,” Livy explained, dumping a tray of ice cubes into a plastic bag. She moved across the kitchen and was about to give the bag to Dag when Vic wrestled it from her hands.
“I think you’ve touched his balls enough today, don’t you?” Vic asked before handing the ice to Dag, who appeared extremely relieved. Livy just didn’t know why.
“Don’t blame me for that.”
“Then who do I blame?”
“Who gets in the middle of a honey badger fight?”
