Taking out the Trash
New Episodes release every Tuesday
Parker is in over her head. After inheriting her hoarder mother's failing estate, she sinks every penny into it. She wakes up after a drunken night of online chatting to find 6 of the sexiest veteran shifter cleaners on her doorstep. She's never heard of shifters... and why are all six of them calling her mate?
Season 1 - Episode 1
I would die in this very spot, and no one would have a clue. Six hours… I'd been trapped under this pile of random shit for six fucking hours. My hips and back ached from how long I'd been stuck in this exact position. I'd tried everything I could think of, but the massive pile of unknown stuff never moved.
Something heavy had landed on my back, keeping me pinned face down on scattered newspapers and the occasional book. How did I know there were books when I couldn't see them? Because of the sharp corners stabbing into me.
If that level of depressing suckage wasn't enough, I had to pee. My bladder hurt… felt like it was about to burst. Because of course, the first time I decided to drink alcohol, I'd end up shit faced and trapped under a pile of a hoarder's treasure. To relieve some of the pressure off my cheek, I dug my shoulder into the newspaper floor and tilted my head until my forehead pressed against the mess underneath me. The small amount of relief I felt from the change of position was enough to stop me from going insane. For now.
"You've got to be shitting me." I grumbled into the ancient newspapers. Someone at the door wouldn't matter. I couldn't get off the floor… erm, pile of stuff that acted as a floor, to answer the door. Whoever was on the other side would eventually think someone wasn't home and leave. And so would my only chance at being rescued.
"Ha." I couldn't stop the sarcastic laugh from escaping. Even if they did come in, whoever they were wouldn't want to sign up for this insanity. I didn't even want to deal with this nightmare my life had become. Thanks mom.
Ding dong. Ding dong.
Who rang the doorbell multiple times? Seriously, just go away and let me die. Sure, I would be in the hall of shame for dumb ways to go, but I'd already accepted my fate. Not only would I die in one of the most embarrassing ways in history, I'd go with the dullest life experiences. Why? Because I'd always done what I was supposed to do… every single expectation my parents had, I jumped at the chance to please them. I was an idiot. A boring, lame, not once destined to save the world, sheltered little girl that grew in an inexperienced woman. Fuck, my life was pathetic.
"Parker, are you okay?" The deep voice sent shivers through me.
I imagined this unknown man growling in my ear. Then my senses came back to me. While I was on the verge of being crushed to death, someone had broken into my house. Great, just what I needed. Good luck mister robber. If you can find anything valuable, then you deserved it.
The logical side of my brain caught up to current events. First thing, a robber wouldn't call out my name as he broke into my house. Second, I didn't know anyone with a voice so delicious… uh; I meant distinct. Yeah. Should I respond or hope they gave up and left? My mother would have insisted I remain silent. Her voice slid through my memory. "Men were a distraction to a woman's career." I rolled my eyes at the phrase she'd said throughout my childhood and even after I'd moved out on my own.
Fuck that. If I was going to leave this world, it would be after doing something ridiculous. I'd call the man with the delicious voice over, then I could die from embarrassment. "I'm over here!" What I'd intended to be a shout came out more as a breathy groan. I barely had room to breathe. It seemed shouting was impossible.
A burning hot pain shot through my neck as I tried to turn my head to see the footsteps that approached. Nope, that wasn't going to happen. My mysterious, silver tongued hero or burglar's looks would have to remain a mystery just a bit longer.
Just like last time, his voice made me shudder. With a voice like that, the man had to be hot as hell. I hoped he had a beard… and tattoos. Not only would it make my mother roll in her grave, I'd always loved looking at burly, tatted up, bearded guys. Add in hair that was long enough to pull and I couldn't think of a good reason to ever leave the house.
The crushing weight finally lifted off me. I sucked in a deep breath, then immediately regretted it as I choked on the oxygen. My lungs seized as the rush of air shocked them. Hands grabbed my arms and shoulders, then the world tilted as they lifted me to my feet. I bent over and grabbed my knees as my equilibrium spun. Hands patted my back, helping me calm.
Actually, there were more than two hands. I counted enough to equal three people. When I got my breathing under control, I dared to follow the black boots that stood at the top of my vision. My gaze slid up, taking in black cargo pants that rode low on a pair of hips. Further up, a black tactical vest contained… bottles of cleaning solution. What the actual fuck?
The moment I went full vertical, my balance tilted again. I stepped back to catch myself. In front of me stood a massive man, the kind I had to look up to just to catch a view of his chin… his bearded chin. My fingers itched with the need to touch it. I didn't. It would be weird to stroke a hot stranger's beard. Wouldn't it? I shook my head. Of course it would be weird.
I turned, taking in the other four men and one woman standing all around me. The sound of newspapers sliding preceding my right foot slipping out from underneath me. The giant of a man caught me before I fell on my ass in front of everyone.
They all wore similar black tactical gear with cleaning supplies. Colorful bottles of solution, a duster, a roll of trash bags, and… was that a broom and a mop with shoulder straps? Who in the hell were these people?
"Parker, are you okay?" The deliciously deep voice asked from behind me. After a few tries, I accepted the fact that I was speechless.
My brain nudged at me, telling me I'd missed a crucial detail. Every brain cell misfired as I looked them over again. Correction, five of them wore black tactical gear. Every single one of them was drop dead gorgeous, and it made me feel out of place. One of the guys stood off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest. I blinked. No, that couldn't be right. I blinked again, but the sight stayed the same.
A man stood taller than those closest to him. Peeking over his crossed arms was a ruffled white fabric with black lace woven through it and tied in a bow. There was even a small scattering of chest hair sticking over the edge. The hem of the skirt ended well above his knee, revealing a badass tattoo that covered his entire right thigh. My gaze traveled up to his face. A plush black beard contrasted with the skimpy maid's outfit he wore.
"I…" Words failed me again. I gestured to the man whose outfit didn't fit the others.
He rolled his eyes as he tightened his grip on his arms. "They thought it would be funny to prank me. Did you know, not only did they buy this ridiculous outfit, they stole the rest of my clothes, so I'd have to wear this?"
"Uh, no. I don't even know who all of you are." For whatever reason, it hadn't dawned on me that all these incredibly attractive people were standing in my house. Like inside, where they could take in the horror of what my mother left me to inherit. Mortification slammed into me. They'd seen the awful mess. "You all need to leave."
"Parker?" The burly man's voice from behind me caught my attention. He waited until I turned around to continue. "You don't remember asking us to come here, do you?"
Ice slid down my spine. I'd been pretty drunk last night, but since I'd never had alcohol before and I'd decided to take shots of everything in my mother's 'social hour' cabinet, I wasn't even surprised I'd woken up with a hangover.
"How much did you have to drink last night?"
"Seeing how I'm awake now, apparently not enough. Who are you, and how do you know me?"
The man bared his teeth at me, making a sound that I could only describe as a hiss. "Never again. From now on, if you need something, you ask us."
I dismissed him with a wave of my hand. "Why would I ask you anything?"
"Because we're your mates."
Hard stop. Mates? A giddy feeling in my belly told me he didn't mean a friend. I held a finger up for him to give me a minute. A sharp pain slid through my abdomen, reminding me I had yet to relieve myself after my drunken night of mistakes.
One of the other men spoke up. "I know it's a lot to take in, and you're probably really confused, but we are all your fated mates."
I'd read enough werewolf romance novels to know what they meant, and they were dead wrong. Shifters weren't real.
"Yeah mate, tell us what you need, and we'll get it for you."
"I need to pee." And with that, I stomped out to the nearest bathroom and locked myself inside.