Savage Redemption: Fierce Mates: Cougar Pride, #6

1

Delilah checked the rear-view mirror. Positioned above the rear-facing car seat was a second mirror which reflected the face of her little darling, McKenzie.

McKenzie was an angel, Delilah told herself. McKenzie was perfect.

As soon as Delilah turned off the car and pulled the parking brake, McKenzie was screaming.

Shit. I mean, shoot. Delilah jumped out of the front seat and climbed into the back. She unbuckled McKenzie’s car seat and picked her up.

Little bean, just ten pounds at her well-baby visit last month. Her tiny face was screwed up in rage.

Come here, you little parasite. Delilah yanked down her tank top and unfastened the clip on her nursing bra in one quick, well-practiced movement, then brought the baby’s mouth to her breast.

McKenzie, Delilah’s perfect, beautiful little angel, wanted to nurse approximately every thirty minutes. While McKenzie fed, Delilah looked at the pawn shop she’d found in the yellow pages of an ancient phone book. It was in a well-shaded strip mall with pine trees on all sides. Four other cars sat in the parking lot. Most of the business, it seemed, was for a taqueria at the end. Delilah could really go for a taco right now. And one of those milky soda drinks. Nursing made her so damn thirsty.

While she held the baby with one hand, she reached for her purse with the other. It was awkward getting her wallet open, but everything was awkward when she was nursing. Three months in and she still didn't feel like she had the hang of this mothering thing.

There were two dollars in her wallet. Probably not enough for a taco, but it might be enough for something to drink.

Then again, if the pawn shop would take any of the stuff she had in her trunk, maybe she would walk out of there a richer woman. She looked down at McKenzie's calm face and whispered, Tacos for all.

McKenzie started to doze at the breast, and as tempting as it was to just let her sleep and enjoy a few extra minutes of peace, Delilah was hungry and there was work to do. She straightened her top and climbed out of the car, McKenzie in one arm and her bag in the other. She stood next to the car for a second, feeling stupid, because with these things in her hands, she wouldn't be able to take the box out of her trunk.

Well, sorry, little bug, back in the carrier you go.

McKenzie didn't complain about going back in the carrier…at first. But once the buckles were in place, she let out a squall that Delilah thought would make her ears bleed. Delilah stared at the baby, at her tight auburn curls, her pale face red with rage. Tears collected in Delilah's eyes. There was nothing Delilah would like more than to comfort and rock her infant, but in order to care for McKenzie, Delilah had to make sure she had enough money so she could eat, too.

After nestling her wallet at McKenzie's feet, Delilah took the carrier off of the car seat base and hauled it out of her old, silver sedan. She hooked the carrier over her arm and went back to the trunk. Inside the trunk was a cardboard file box full of junk.

Delilah stared at the box with a doubtful eye. There had to be something of value in there—she'd been hauling this box around from homeless shelter to apartment to mobile home to the current rental house where she lived. It was the box that never got unpacked. Her original idea had been to go through the box, sort the items, and clean up anything of value. Then she could present the pawn shop person with treasures that might be more appealing.

But in the months since she'd had the idea of going to the pawn shop, her life had been dominated by McKenzie.

Delilah swung the carrier around. McKenzie immediately stopped fussing, her blue eyes wide with interest at the scenery outside. No doubt about it, the kid liked trees. She liked the outside air. And she liked nursing.

Delilah set the carrier on the ground and hauled the box out of the trunk. She put the box on the ground too, then closed the trunk and locked the car. She got the box under one arm and carried the baby with the other. It was awkward as hell, but most things were these days. Delilah looked down at McKenzie and said, It's gonna be great, just you wait and see. We're gonna walk out of this pawn shop as rich bitches.

At the door to the shop, Delilah peered into the grimy window. She could barely make out a man sitting behind the counter. His face was covered in a full brown beard and his attention seemed to be on something in the corner of the room. Delilah reached for the door, but with the carrier and the box, she didn't have a free hand to open it.

It's okay, we are just fine, she said to McKenzie. Positive thinking, that's the way to go.

She set the file box to the side on the ground, opened the door, then scooted the box into the pawn shop with her foot. Something clanked amongst her treasures, and Delilah winced.

The man behind the counter looked up. He didn't say anything.

Hi, Delilah said in her bubbliest voice. I called earlier. You said you're taking merchandise today?

He grunted. She took that as affirmation.

Smiling winsomely, she said, Great. So I have some great stuff here. It's a little hard for me to carry it over. Just a sec.

McKenzie made discontented noises as Delilah awkwardly got the box back into her free arm. The pawn shop was tiny, with one narrow aisle that led up to the counter. Delilah had to walk sideways to avoid knocking things off of the shelves. She finally reached the counter, breathless.

So, hi, she said again.

What do you got?

He speaks, she thought. All kinds of good stuff. There's some jewelry in here, and I think an old clock. I don't know what all is in here, honestly. But I'm sure it's worth a lot.

He gave her a doubtful look and flicked his gray eyes down to the box.

Delilah looked at the box too, as if seeing it for the first time from someone else's point of view. Her heart fell. It looked like a bunch of crap. No, she told herself firmly, she had brought good things here. It was worth a fortune, she just knew it.

The man pulled the first item out of the box. It was a Mets cap, and had probably belonged to one of Delilah's ex-boyfriends. Worthless, he said.

Well, I'm not a Mets fan myself, either, she said with a grin.

He didn’t return Delilah’s smile. He reached in again, and this time pulled out the old clock. He turned it over in his massive hands, appraising it without much care. He turned the key at the rear and a soft tick tick came from it. Shrugging, he set it on the other side of the counter, away from the Mets cap.

Five minutes passed, with the man taking out Delilah's forgotten belongings and setting them on either side of the counter. Her heart lifted with hope every time he set an object next to the clock. Maybe she could get two hundred dollars out of this visit. Maybe three hundred. Her mind whirled with possibilities. Three hundred would take care of McKenzie's daycare the following week. It would give Delilah a little more time to find a better job, because the one she had now paid for daycare, but not much else. Not rent, not food for Delilah, not diapers for McKenzie. And Delilah’s savings—built up from all the extra hours she’d worked during her pregnancy—were gone.

The box was nearly empty now. Delilah was afraid to look inside it.

The man pulled out a couple of necklaces, some costume pieces that Delilah had gotten from her grandmother when she passed.

Cheap shit, he said, setting it next to the clock.

Delilah felt her temper flare. If it's so cheap, why are you interested in buying it?

Didn't say I was, he said.

Delilah forced her mouth tightly closed. She needed to be friendly, even if he wasn't. She was going to be a light shining in the world, bringing happiness to everyone around her.

McKenzie started fussing.

Well, this is the last one, the man said, reaching into the box. His hand came up, holding an old knife with a bone handle.

Delilah’s stomach sank. She couldn’t sell that. I'm sorry, that's not for sale. It was my grandfather’s. I didn't know it was in the box.

Shrugging, the man went to drop it back in the box, but then suddenly he stopped. His bushy eyebrows rose up his forehead. I'd pay for this, he said.

Biting her lip, Delilah shook her head. I can’t sell it.

It was the one thing she had from her grandfather. He hadn’t been rich, but he’d treasured that knife. Delilah had promised him she wouldn’t sell it. After Delilah had gone into the foster care system, she’d broken more promises than she could count. This was the one promise she had left.

Have it your way, the man said.

Delilah watched as he put the other items back in the box, the ones that had been next to the baseball cap. These were all things that, Delilah guessed, would definitely be coming home with her.

Next, the man started looking through the pile he had set next to the clock. He started with the necklaces, turning them this way and that. He reached under the counter and came back with a magnifying glass, which he held up to the jewels.

McKenzie's fussing got louder. Delilah gently swung the carrier back and forth. The side of it dug into her leg, but a bruise was a small price to pay for keeping McKenzie from a full-blown rage-fest.

After what felt like two hours but was probably only ten minutes, the man spoke again. A small pile sat right in front of him. It included the clock, one of Delilah's grandmother’s necklaces, and some other trinkets. Fifty.

Delilah’s mouth fell open. "Fifty dollars?"

No, fifty pesos, he said sarcastically. Yes, dollars.

She had hoped it would be so much more. But in a bright voice, she said, Well, okay then. Fifty dollars it is.

He unlocked an ancient cash register and pulled two twenties and a ten from it. Delilah sadly did the math in her head. This wasn't enough. She would have to figure out something else. Maybe find a cheaper place to live while she looked for another job. The thought of moving with an infant made her feel so, so tired. But if she had to do it, so be it.

After putting the cash in her wallet, Delilah carefully placed the leftover items back in the box. Surprisingly, the man helped her.

Delilah got the box under her free arm and turned to go.

Then she stopped. Hang on, the knife.

The man stared at her impassively.

I believe you forgot to put it back in my box, she said in a cheerful but firm voice.

My mistake. He nudged it from around the pile that he had paid for.

She balanced the box on the edge of the counter, collected the knife, and sidled awkwardly down the aisle toward the door.

Once she and McKenzie were safely outside, she looked down at the baby in the carrier and said, I do believe that man was trying to rob us.

Delilah's arm felt like it was about to fall off. She had been holding that carrier the whole time in the pawn shop. She should have set McKenzie down while the guy at the counter was doing his thing, but she knew that would've been a recipe for a big crying jag.

With a sigh, she quickly set the carrier down on the ground and shifted the file box to her other arm. Then she leaned down to take the carrier again. Switching arms was a good thing.

Hang on, I'll help you with that.

Delilah turned around, thinking she must have really misjudged the man in the pawn shop if he was now helping her with her heavy load. But the man who had spoken was coming from the taqueria. He had auburn hair and an engaging smile.

Wow, thanks. Delilah gave him a what she hoped would pass for a smile and passed over the cardboard file box.

He took it as if it weighed nothing and followed her to her car. Delilah watched him from the corner of her eye while she hauled McKenzie’s carrier. One person already had tried to steal her grandfather's knife today, and she wasn't going to give anybody else the opportunity. But the man didn't seem interested at all in the contents of the box. He set it carefully in her trunk and gave her a wave as he walked away.

Delilah fit McKenzie's carrier into the car seat base, bracing herself for the inevitable crying. Sure enough, McKenzie started up.

Delilah gave her a look. You know, some babies love the car.

McKenzie cried louder.

But apparently, I have a very unique baby, Delilah said with a sigh. I love you, bug.

After double-checking that all of McKenzie's buckles were in place, Delilah climbed into the front seat and started her car. She glanced over to check that the way was clear and saw the auburn-haired man leaning against a red truck. He held a tiny notebook in his hand. Delilah watched as he made a single mark in the notebook before closing it.

Looks like he's checking off his daily act of kindness, she said with a laugh.

McKenzie didn't seem to think it was amusing.

Delilah looked longingly at the taqueria, but she pulled out of the parking lot to drive home. She still had some ramen noodles and a couple of eggs. She would make a meal of those while she came up with a plan for next week. Not as good as feasting on tacos, but it would do for now.

2

Ben winced. He could hear that baby screaming all the way across the parking lot. Damn shifter hearing. He could hear too much, all the time. Most of what he heard these days were the voices in his head, telling him he'd never measure up, telling him he'd never be good.

Good for nothing—that’s what his older brother had called him.

He watched dispassionately as the tattooed woman drove away, the baby still squalling in the back seat. He was glad he had helped her. Maybe he should've done more, bought her a burrito or something. Poor lady looked malnourished with that blue tank top hanging loose about her, but maybe