Filthy Thief: Junkyard Shifters, #7

By Liza Street

After leaving his fated mate at the altar, he doesn't deserve her forgiveness, and he sure as hell doesn't deserve her love.

 

Kenzie can't forgive, but she's doing her damnedest to forget. Since the day the love of her life betrayed her, she has started a virtual assistant business, learned some self-confidence, and dated half the single men in Medford, Oregon. But not one of them can hold a candle to her rough-yet-tender ex-fiancé.

 

Wolf shifter Noah has more than his fair share of regrets. Every single day, he should have told Kenzie that he loved her. He should have realized his get-rich-quick schemes didn't impress her, and worse, that they could rip her away from him. He never got his chance to say goodbye, so when she shows up at the Junkyard, he needs to do whatever it takes to earn her trust.

 

This is their second chance.

 

He'll fight like hell—again—to keep her safe. Even if that means pushing her away and losing her forever.

 

Filthy Thief is the seventh standalone novel in the Junkyard Shifters series. Get your copy today to fall in love with this dirty-talking, bad-boy wolf shifter!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Liza Street
• Release date: Nov 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201127794

Book preview

Prologue

Five Years Ago

Kenzie was getting married tomorrow. She couldn’t believe it, but it also felt completely right and true. Her fiancé sat across the dinner table and her stepmother sat between them. Kenzie and Noah hadn’t wanted a giant rehearsal dinner or anything like that, so they’d decided to have Marnie over for dinner and call it good. The wedding would be small, with a handful of friends and family, and it seemed right that the rehearsal dinner reflect that.

You’re sure these imaginary friends of yours will be coming? Kenzie asked Noah, a teasing note in her voice.

His smile was patient and long-suffering, because his supposed friends had been a point of contention between the two of them for two years. The argument had lasted for so long that the sting was gone for Kenzie, and she figured if he wasn’t introducing them to her, then there was a good reason. And everything else between them was perfect, so this weird friends thing would not be an issue.

She wouldn’t let it be an issue.

Because seriously. Everything was perfect.

She was living in a fairytale.

From the time she’d met Noah, they’d both been all-in. One hundred percent, no doubts from either of them.

Marnie pushed her plate forward and sighed in a happy way, grinning at Kenzie and Noah in turn. Her bright blue eyes twinkled, accentuated by the smile wrinkles at her temples. You two cooked an amazing meal. You’re such a great team.

Well, we wanted to thank you, Kenzie said.

Thank me?

It’s because of you that the two of us even met. Kenzie grinned, remembering how Noah had shown up one rainy night, knocking on Kenzie’s door, looking for Marnie. He and Marnie both belonged to some sort of wilderness club, and there’d been some kind of wilderness emergency…Kenzie had never been clear on the details. The most important part of that night, though, was how clearly interested in each other Noah and Kenzie were, from the very beginning.

I’m so happy for you both, Marnie said, reaching to either end of the table and taking each of their hands in her own. Her eyes shone with unshed tears.

Kenzie felt herself tearing up, too, so she laughed. Okay, enough of that. I’ll probably be crying happy tears all day tomorrow. No sense in starting early.

Speaking of that, you should get your rest, Marnie said, then looked pointedly at Noah.

What? Noah asked with a laugh, holding up his hands.

I thought we talked about you spending tonight elsewhere. It’s bad luck to stay together the night before the wedding.

Says who? he said, but he stood. Let me just help Kenzie with the dishes, and I’ll head out.

Kenzie stood, too. Nah, I’ve got it. You did most of the cooking, anyway.

See? Marnie said, smiling fondly at them. Good team.

The best team, Noah said, coming around the table to kiss Kenzie. In a softer voice, he whispered, Are you sure you’re okay spending the night without me?

It’s my last chance to starfish in my bed as an unmarried woman, she said, laughing. Get out of here, future-husband-of-mine.

If you say so… He leaned in for another kiss, and at the touch of his warm, smooth lips, Kenzie very nearly changed her mind.

But Marnie cleared her throat expectantly, and Noah pulled away with a regretful smile.

Until tomorrow, lover, he whispered.

Until tomorrow, she repeated.

And then he left.

That was the last time she saw him.

1

Present Day

Noah woke to the sounds of one of the Junkyard couples having loud and enthusiastic sex. He guessed it came from the trees maybe fifty or so yards from his trailer. Shifter hearing was the worst at times like these.

Giggles.

A man’s grunt. I’m going to fuck that smart mouth, you bad girl.

More feminine laughter.

Frowning, Noah ran a hand over his beard. He’d moved to the trailer at the north side of the Junkyard in the hopes of avoiding all the lovey-doveyness of the happily mated Junkyard residents. Luckily, most of the pairs moved out of the Junkyard once they met their mates, because some weird magic allowed just those people to get through the invisible barrier which kept the rest of the shifters inside.

Noah wasn’t jealous of the mated couples who could leave. He had nowhere better to be. Nobody was waiting for him. Nobody cared.

And that was just how he fuckin’ liked it.

He checked the wall calendar Octavia had given him to brighten up the interior of the camp trailer he called home. His brew had been going for a week. Perfect. He’d wait for the two lovebirds—Jase and Blythe, by the sound of it—to finish their outdoor exercise, and then he’d move on to the next steps of making his moonshine.

"Fuck, yes, Jase said. Take it like that, babe. You’re so gorgeous."

Blythe’s laughter had faded, and now she moaned in pleasure.

Noah rolled his eyes, then he looked down at his dick. A few years ago, listening to something like this would get him hard. He’d always been more voyeur than exhibitionist. There was one time, with Kenzie, when—

No. Shut that shit down.

That was in the past and he had to believe she was better off now.

He sat up and waited for Jase and Blythe to finish. After what he felt was an obscenely long time, they finally left. He half-heartedly thought of jerking off, but there was no real desire behind it, so he got dressed, grabbed a large camp stove and his pack of supplies—copper tubing, three empty gallon jugs, and the ingredients to keep his little system going—and went out into the cool morning.

It was early, and other than Jase and Blythe, he suspected not too many of the Junkyard shifters would be out and about. He wasn’t in the mood to talk, so this suited him fine.

In fact, he would rather avoid detection entirely. Selfish, maybe, but it wasn’t like anyone here actually needed him. He decided to call forward his Ghost—his skill that none of the Junkyard shifters knew about, the aspect of himself that made him different.

He was the only Ghost he knew of, although others existed. Ghosts were shifters who had been born with the ability to sneak past the senses of others. It wasn’t hereditary, as far as he knew, although it was possible that if one of Noah’s parents had the ability, they hadn’t been aware of it. He’d only discovered it by accident, playing hide-and-seek with his shifter friends as a kid.

Noah hadn’t told anyone in the Junkyard about it. There was no use for it here, no real reason to sneak around, other than occasionally wanting to move beneath everyone’s radar. Jase would probably like to know, as the alpha, but Noah hadn’t found any good reason to say anything.

Deep breath. He concentrated as he breathed, cleansing his emotions, cleansing his skin. He knew exactly when the magic took shape. The world around him took on a muted clarity. And this was the danger in being a Ghost—when you did it, you lost your usual heightened senses. Now, Noah’s nose and ears weren’t any better than a human’s.

However, nobody would be able to sense him. They could see him, sure, but they’d have to come right up on top of him.

Relieved that he wouldn’t be tracked or interrupted, because yeah, he was feeling exactly that antisocial, Noah moved through the woods. His moonshine station was next to the pond, halfway buried and housed underneath a makeshift roof to keep it from getting too hot.

He set up the camp stove and his boiler with its copper tubes, then lugged the giant barrel from its station. The barrel was heavy, but not prohibitively so. He remembered doing this with his packmates when they were teenagers. How they’d struggled to get all the details right. It should’ve been idiot-proof, but they hadn’t known what the hell they were doing.

Thank the gods of drunkenness for YouTube tutorials, or Noah and his friends would probably have all poisoned themselves.

Next, he strained the contents of the barrel into the copper boiler and turned on the camp stove. He checked that the tubes were submerged, their barrel filled with cool water from the pond, then sat back to wait for his moonshine.

It wasn’t the most scintillating of pastimes, but Noah liked listening to the soft burbling sounds of the moonshine. The liquor gave him something to trade, something to gamble with, something to talk about with the others when they got together every now and then. It gave him something to drink when memories of the past were unbearable.

He toyed with a piece of wire, trying to coil it around itself and into the shape of a wolf. It didn’t look half bad, but he didn’t know what he would ever do with such a thing. He fussed with the metal and tried not to think about anything at all, but that was impossible. He had never understood meditation. The closest he got was while he was in his wolf form, running. Even then, thoughts of his old life intruded. Kenzie, mostly. Ha, who was he kidding? It wasn’t mostly Kenzie; it was all Kenzie. The pout she wore in her sleep, which was always more pronounced on the nights he came home late from a job. The way her mind worked—organized and analytical, yet full of fanciful, creative ideas. One minute she’d be outlining the best way to get from Point A to Point B, and then she’d just say, Ah, whatever. Let’s just get in the car and go. You’ll figure out the way.

She’d trusted him to get her there. And until the very end, that had worked for them both.

While the moonshine trickled into one of the waiting jugs beneath the tubing and Noah fussed with the wire wolf, Noah let his mind wander into places he rarely allowed. Kenzie in bed, her thighs clutching the sides of his head while she came against his tongue. The fullness of her breasts in his hands. The tantalizing way her ass jiggled as he’d slammed into her from behind.

And after their lovemaking, they would pant and cling to each other, two souls landing back on earth together and knowing they were exactly where they belonged: in each other’s arms.

It wasn’t always perfect, though. They’d fought, too. When she lost her temper, she could give him the kind of scolding that put his wolf’s tail between his legs. He’d never argued back, because he always deserved it. He hadn’t told her the truth about anything.

Regret washed over him, thick as a wool blanket on a hundred-degree day.

She’d trusted him, and again and again he’d broken that trust.

So, no, it hadn’t been perfect.

But that wasn’t why he’d left her.

2

Kenzie Park’s To-Do List of Worldwide Domination

-Social media calendar for Christy

-Newsletter for Christy

-Newsletter for Ellen

-Strategy call with Zane

-Date with what’s-his-name. Mark?

-Before date, check date’s name on Food & Friends app

-After date, ice cream and an episode of Interstellar Love Connection

---

Kenzie Park hated waiting. She hated it so much that she would rather be late to a date than get there early. So on a cloudy Thursday in August, she ambled into Nonna’s restaurant, ten minutes late. The scents of marinara sauce and garlic assaulted her nose. She clutched her stomach, feeling nauseous from anxiety, but she’d promised herself she would go on one date a month. Queasy nerves were not going to keep her from checking this item off her list.

Her reward: mint chip ice cream and streaming her favorite show.

Alone.

While the host helped the couple in front of her, Kenzie checked the dating app, Food & Friends, for her date’s name and photo. Mark. Dark hair, bland smile. His skin was tanned like he spent a fair amount of time outdoors. He looked a little boring, a little familiar, but that was probably because Kenzie had checked out his photo a couple of times before agreeing to the date. She didn’t love being that shallow, but if there was zero attraction, a date probably wasn’t worth either of their time. If there was too much attraction, Kenzie was afraid to risk it.

Mark fell happily in the middle.

She straightened her shoulders and willed her anxiety to go away.

At least the restaurant was familiar. She usually chose Nonna’s because she liked the low lighting, the laidback atmosphere, and the lasagna. Heck yes, the lasagna.

Hello, the host said, giving Kenzie a warm smile. A little pin on the host’s shirt read Taylor. They/Them. Their hair was cut short and two diamond studs sparkled from each ear.

Hi, I’m meeting someone, Kenzie said. I’m not sure if he’s here yet, though.

Taylor nodded. We have someone waiting for a woman named Kenzie.

That’s me.

The host led Kenzie through the crowded dining room. Kenzie was a little disappointed it was so noisy—she’d chosen a Thursday night for the date to avoid this.

You’re busy tonight, she said to Taylor.

College students are moving back to campus, they said. I think that’s where most of this crowd came from.

Oh, that’s right, Kenzie said, mentally smacking herself on the forehead. If she’d thought of it ahead of time, she wouldn’t have gone out this week. Oh, well. She couldn’t control every aspect of the date.

Here you are, Taylor said, bringing Kenzie to a table where a man with dark hair sat.

Mark’s hair was slightly thinner at the temples and there was a widow’s peak that hadn’t shown up in his photo, but that didn’t bother her. After all, Kenzie’s photo didn’t show her love handles. Nobody was as perfect as the images they sent out over the internet.

"Hi, I’m