by Shea Balik
How was he to know the man worked for a rival pack that planned to attack Miracle? Yet, no one seemed to ever bring it up. It was as if no one blamed Jazz for being so stupid. Then again, they probably expected it from someone as dumb as he was.
“Plus, with no other skills, it’s nice to have something to do that even I can’t screw up.” The moment Greyson let out a sigh, Jazz knew he’d managed to fuck it up once more. Since it was his specialty, it was hard to be surprised.
“Jazz,” Greyson said far more patiently than anyone Jazz had ever known. “We talked about this. You happen to be good at what you do.”
Jazz had to dig his nails into his palms to force himself not to roll his eyes at Greyson’s statement. He painted walls. How hard did people think that was?
“Fine,” Greyson leaned forward. “Enough about your job. What about you? Are you still having nightmares?”
Jazz regretted ever mentioning waking up in the middle of the night, coughing, his throat on fire as he’d dreamt of Kingston trying to choke the life out of him. At the time, it had helped sharing the horrible dreams, but he also wanted to just forget.
“Sometimes,” he admitted. Like every damn night. “I can’t stop looking over my shoulder, afraid he’d going to come back for me and finish the job.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Greyson assured him.
But Jazz didn’t believe him. Kingston was still out there somewhere. So long as that was true, Jazz knew he’d never be safe. “You can’t promise that,” he whispered, wishing Greyson’s words alone could keep him safe.
“Besides, even if Kingston never comes back, there will eventually be someone else to take his place.” Jazz hated to complain but he was beginning to feel as if he would have been better off if Kingston had killed him. It wasn’t as if anyone would miss him.
A long time went by in silence as Greyson stared at Jazz, clearly unsure how to respond to his statement. Or, most likely, Greyson was finally understanding helping Jazz was a waste of his time.
“Would it help to know we have Kingston Huges in custody?” Greyson asked.
Jazz’s hand went to his chest, pressing the heel hard over his heart. What he wasn’t sure of, was if the action was an attempt to keep it beating, or stop it moving altogether. The fear that had enveloped him at Greyson’s announcement had him wishing, not for the first time, for his life to end.
“He’s not…” Jazz found it nearly impossible to take in any air as his throat constricted, just as if Kingston’s hands were back around it, cutting off his ability to breathe.
“Hey,” Greyson crooned softly as he knelt in front of Jazz and placed a hand on his knee.
The problem? Jazz was too far gone as his brain took him back to that moment when he’d been sure he was going to die. Instead of comforting Jazz, Greyson’s touch had him jumping up and racing to the far side of the room. He dove under the desk that was there, praying it would hide him from the danger around him.
Kingston was captured. Jazz somehow knew his former lover was there in the same house. It made sense, since his meetings with Greyson normally occurred in town, but for some reason, this time, Greyson had asked Jazz to meet him at Alpha Edrick’s house.
“Don’t let him get me,” he whispered as he curled into the tightest ball he could manage.
A loud bang alerted him that the door had been shoved open. Jazz had no idea who entered, but he was sure it was Kingston to finish the job and kill Jazz. After all, if Jazz were dead there would be no one around to point fingers, right?
“What happened?” The deep voice of Alpha Edrick barely reached Jazz’s ears as he continued to whimper, waiting for the blow he just knew would land on his body. “Where’s Jazz?”
“Under the desk,” Greyson said.
“What?” Edrick asked, clearly confused. “Why?”
“Because he thinks Kingston is going to get free and kill him,” Greyson snapped. “I told you he wasn’t ready to face Huges.”
“But we need him to tell his side.” Everything within Jazz froze at the sound of Saber’s voice as he joined the conversation. Everyone always said Saber was nice, but Jazz wasn’t sure he could trust that, not when his deer was screaming at him to make himself as small as possible in hopes the big ape shifter wouldn’t notice him, especially when he growled out, “We can’t let that bastard get away with what he did.”
“But Jazz named him,” Greyson argued. “That should be enough.”
“Except none of us even met this guy,” Saber bit out. “What if the guy who tried to kill Jazz was using Huges name? We have to have Jazz identify him or we’re going to have to free him.”
Jazz wasn’t sure it was because Saber was talking that he paid attention, or if it had just been what he said. Either way, Jazz knew if he didn’t do the impossible, one day Kingston would kill him. His deer screamed as it tried to encourage him to run as far as possible. But the human side of him knew that wasn’t an option. Not a good one, anyway.
One day, just because he could, Kingston would track him down and choke the life out of him. Only this time, he’d make sure Jazz was really dead before leaving.
The terror of never knowing when Kingston would find him overrode the fear he felt at the moment, just barely. His only advantage of facing the man now was, he had a room full of much stronger shifters than Kingston could ever hope to be, to protect him.
Slowly, he uncurled his body and crawled to the edge of the desk. Peeking out, he glanced first to make sure Greyson stood between him and the others. Then he looked at Alpha Edrick. His body shook, but the big man didn’t hold an ounce of anger on his features as he stared right back at Jazz.
There was kindness and pity. He wasn’t fond of being pitied, but Jazz would accept it if it kept him safe from punishment. Then his gaze went to Council Leader Saber. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but he knew it wasn’t the encouraging smile that was currently on the leader’s face.
“Jazz.” Saber tried to modulate his deep voice, making it sound like he was almost whispering. “I know seeing Kingston is a scary prospect, but I swear to you, I will keep you safe.”
Jazz appreciated Saber saying that, because he was beyond terrified. “Will…” Jazz’s throat froze up as he tried to speak. He breathed in deeply and released it on the count of ten, like Greyson had taught him whenever panic set in, which, he hated to admit, was several times a day.
“Will he be…” At least he got out two more words before he found himself unable to talk again.
Carefully, Greyson reached out, but didn’t touch Jazz, instead, allowing Jazz to grab his hand if he needed it. Ashamed to admit he did, Jazz took hold anyway. Instantly, he felt a little calmer, maybe even a little braver. “Will he be able to get near me?” Jazz got out.
Saber shook his head. “Absolutely not. If you prefer, I will allow you to give your testimony between my second, Draco Orah and my mate, Chadwick. With them at your side, no one will get close to you.”
A gasp spilled from his lips at Saber’s offer. He didn’t know Draco well, as the man didn’t come into Miracle too often, instead staying at Saber’s farm with his human mate. But he’d heard just how deadly Saber’s second was. In fact, there were rumors that Draco had the ability to kick Saber’s ass, but he chose to follow instead.
Chadwick, on the other hand, Jazz knew fairly well. Jazz’s direct boss was Zayden, but it was Chadwick who was in charge of all construction in Miracle. He decided what got built where and in what order. He also happened to be part of Alpha Edrick’s inner circle.
“And Jazz,” Edrick said. When Jazz glanced at his alpha, Edrick added, “My entire inner circle will protect you. We saw what this bastard did to you, and I look forward to killing him for his crimes. Unfortunately, Saber is right. Since none of us ever saw him, you’re the only one who can confirm his identity.”
“I-I kn-know.” Jazz might have stuttered, but he managed to get it out in one try. “Thank you.”
&n
bsp; Edrick’s lips lifted in a small, almost sad, smile. “You belong to my pack, Jazz. It’s the least I can do after allowing this to happen to you on my watch.”
Jazz shook his head. Kingston hadn’t been Edrick’s fault. Jazz bore that blame all on his own but he was too embarrassed to say the words.
Edrick took a step toward him and leaned down until his eyes were on Jazz’s level. “None of this is on you.”
Edrick had opened his mouth as if to say more, but Greyson interrupted. “Only that bastard Kingston is responsible. He’s the one who thought beating up someone weaker than him was a good idea. Kingston is the only person here who’s guilty.”
The alpha smiled at Greyson in gratitude. Jazz wished he could believe what Greyson said, but he knew better. Jazz was a loser. It’s why he attracted people who wanted to hurt him.
He was sure fate had decided not to give him a mate. Fate knew no one would want to be strapped with him for the rest of their lives.
CHAPTER 3
It took everything within Wilder to not knock this idiot’s teeth out as he waited to be told to bring Kingston into the makeshift Council room. Or, more accurately, outside sitting area in back of Alpha Edrick’s house. Apparently, with the town still being built, no one had thought building a new Council building for government affairs had been a necessity.
Then again, with more than half of the population still living in tents, it was hard for Wilder to disagree. He’d just been happy Council Leader Saber had offered to let him stay in the bunkhouse on his farm.
“No way is that little punk going to point the finger at me,” Kingston said with a sneer.
Wilder noticed the vile man wasn’t stupid enough to implicate himself by claiming to know Jazz. Or that Jazz knew him. He just kept repeating no one would ever point a finger at him for anything.
What he didn’t get was how anyone willingly slept with this fucktard. The guy was an ass, who thought way too much of himself.
If only it were that simple for this Jazz person. Too often Wilder had met abuse victims in his line of work. When it came to repeated abuse, logic wasn’t usually a factor. More times than Wilder could count, the victim had thought he or she had somehow deserved what happened.
He wasn’t sure if that was the case for this Jazz person, but after spending two days spent dragging Kingston to Miracle, and now the two hours he’d been put on guard duty this morning, Wilder had to assume Jazz’s self-esteem had to be at a zero, thinking this asshole was an option.
“Guys like that always chicken out in the end.” Kingston actually cackled. “Too afraid of their own shadow to be a real man.”
Wilder clenched his hand into a fist so tightly two of his knuckles popped. If only he had left Miracle the moment he’d dropped Kingston off, then he wouldn’t be stuck listening to him prattle on about what a real man was. Like the jackass would have any clue.
“I bet that’s why they haven’t called me before the Council,” Kingston grinned way too gleefully. “Pathetic joke is probably too afraid to face me. Not that I blame him.”
Wilder narrowed his gaze. “Did you just threaten a witness of the Council?” He’d let his grizzly rumble menacingly as he spoke.
Kingston went white as a sheet. His eyes nearly popped out of his head as stammered, “Wh-what? N-no. Wh-why would y-you think that?”
Wilder’s bear grinned in his head in satisfaction. He was sure Kingston was about ready to piss himself. “Then shut up.”
Blessedly, Kingston didn’t say another word as the acrid scent of fear poured off him. Too bad Wilder hadn’t thought to do that earlier.
He hadn’t even gotten five minutes of peace when the door to the basement opened. “Wilder, please bring up the accused.” Saber’s words were polite, but the snarl in his voice let Wilder know just how much he despised Kingston.
Wilder strode to Kingston’s side and unhooked a length of chain that had been attached from the cement to around his waist, as well as another chain that linked his handcuffs and ankle cuffs together. Once that had been taken off, Wilder grabbed hold of the chain that he’d left on between the his hands and feet and pulled him up the stairs.
Apparently, that was all it took for the fear Wilder had caused Kingston to be replaced once more by his snide comments about the victim. “Piece of shit better not point his finger at me,” Kingston grumbled. “No one can even prove I was ever here.”
As much as Wilder hated to admit it, Kingston might be right. Then again, he wasn’t exactly privy to the evidence.
The moment Wilder appeared at the top of the stairs with Kingston in tow, several growls erupted around them, reminding him even though he seriously disliked the man, it was Wilder’s job to keep Kingston safe.
Pushing aside the immense disgust he had toward his charge, Wilder stared down the four men who were waiting for them. Two were part of the alpha’s inner circle, Hudson and Lucca. Since it was their territory, Wilder couldn’t begrudge their need to ensure the prisoner didn’t escape.
He was a little surprised to find Trygg amongst the four. Based on their conversation the night before, Trygg indicated he’d been happy to give up being an enforcer. Then again, since his mate was one of the inner circle, he imagined Trygg would feel the need to protect Kellach.
The fourth man Wilder hadn’t met officially but he’d heard of him. Kirill Hunt. Even though he was a dominant alpha, he’d easily given up that role and submitted to Edrick. From the accounts he’d heard, he’d done it for his pack, whom he’d lead to Miracle in the hopes of finding a safe haven for those who had followed him.
Others claimed Kirill had given up his status when he’d found his mate, Harper. Those who believed in fairytales liked to sigh and claim that Kirill now lived to please his mate.
Wilder imagined the truth was somewhere in between. Either way, it was obvious by the way Kirill stared at Kingston, like he was a gnat to be crushed, the former alpha already found the prisoner guilty.
“You gentleman aren’t planning to give me trouble, are you?” Wilder said, making sure to meet each of their gazes.
Kingston snorted. “Like they could. They were too stupid to even know I was hiding less than a mile from their land.”
Wilder stilled, his eyes shifting to Kingston. “I thought you said you weren’t anywhere near Miracle.”
Kingston curled his lip in a sneer. “So what if I was? It’s not a crime.”
Lucca snarled, showing off his sharp canines. “No asshole, it isn’t. But it does prove you were here, something you’ve apparently tried to deny.”
It was obvious Kingston realized his mistake too late. Then he shook it off, like none of it mattered. “Who cares? Once Jazz sees me, I guarantee he wouldn’t have the guts to point the finger at me.” Then he gave the four men a cold calculating smile. “You know, because he knows it wasn’t me.”
Warning bells went off inside Wilder. There was no scent of a lie, yet if he were a betting man, he’d bet everything he owned that Kingston was the one responsible for hurting this Jazz person. So, either Kingston had figured out a way to hide his lies, or he truly believed Jazz would tell the world it wasn’t him who nearly killed him.
Tugging on his chain before things started to get out of hand, Wilder led Kingston out the back door, with Lucca and Trygg in front of them, and Hudson and Kirill behind them. He thought they were overreacting with that much security, that was, until he stepped outside.
Before him was at least fifty people, all standing, as they watched Wilder lead Kingston out the door. Beyond the group was the Council sitting at a long table, that he would swear looked to be several tables from the little diner he’d eaten at that morning, The Mousetrap.
But it was the three people that stood between the Council table and large group of people that held Wilder’s attention. For a huge man, who stood on the left, had the promise of death in his eyes. On the right was Saber’s mate, Chadwick, who was flipping a knife in the air as if it were a game. The g
lint in his eyes wasn’t one of rage or even the assurance of striking out if Kingston made a wrong move. Instead, he wore a grin and his eyes sparkled, as if daring Kingston to try something.
The stories of Chadwick being a bit eccentric weren’t exactly wrong. The man had balls of steel with a wild streak that tended to push the line between sane and bat-shit crazy. He proved that point further when another knife suddenly appeared in his hand and he started juggling the two as if they weren’t sharp objects.
Yet, even though both men were imposing, it was the one in the middle that held Wilder’s attention. And it wasn’t his beauty that had Wilder’s heart stopping and his breath catching in his throat, although he was breathtaking.
No. It was the raw terror that he could see in those sweet brown eyes as he stared at Kingston that made Wilder want to strike Kingston down before he took another step closer. The pain and fear seemed to cause the man to shake so hard Wilder feared he might fall apart. It was so tangible, Wilder was sure he could touch it.
That’s when his world tilted. Because, mixed in with the scent of dread, shock, and panic, was the smell of the sweetness honey, tinged with cloves. Wilder stopped in his tracks, forcing Kingston and the two men following them to halt with him.
He hadn’t said a word, but Kingston chuckled as he murmured cruelly, “I know, that meek, deer in the headlights fear, just makes you want to fuck him into submission, doesn’t it?”
Wilder didn’t respond verbally. He couldn’t. Words failed him. Thankfully, his grizzly bear hadn’t been struck stupid, for without any thought, his hand shot out and punched Kingston right on the nose.
The crowd gasped, then cheered as blood spurted down Kingston’s face. “What the fuck was that for?” Kingston yelled as he tried to stem the flow of blood.
