by Shea Balik
“Is there a reason why you’re driving like we’re competing in some sort of race?” Jazz asked, his knuckles were white as his hand was tightly wrapped around the ‘oh shit’ bar.
Even seeing the fear in his mate’s eyes, wasn’t enough for Wilder to slow down. He wasn’t sure anything could have made him lift his foot from the accelerator at that point.
“Seriously, Wilder.” The teasing tone in Jazz’s voice had disappeared as fear took its place. “What’s wrong?”
If only he knew, Wilder might feel better. “Do you have your gun?”
He hated seeing his mate afraid, but Wilder would rather be safe than sorry. When Jazz nodded, his gaze looking everywhere out the windows as he tried to catch a hint of the danger that Wilder knew in his gut loomed close.
“Where’s that tablet Yosi gave us?” he asked his mate.
Jazz picked it up from where it had been tucked between him and console. “Do you want me to call them? What should I say, because I’m not seeing anything?”
The words had no more left Jazz’s mouth than they rounded a bend about fifteen miles from the helipad to find eight trucks and SUVs as well as four dirt bikes that were built for the surrounding terrain.
“Call,” Wilder told his mate as he slammed on his brakes. He allowed the SUVs natural drift at such a move to spin them nearly completely around. But he didn’t allow them to come to a complete stop before punching back down on the gas.
Like a shot, they burned rubber for a moment before the tires caught the asphalt and propelled them forward. As they hadn’t been totally turned around, they went into the rocky terrain for several minutes as Wilder fought to get them back on the road.
“Don’t tell me you got lost already,” one of the security guards chuckled as he answered. But the words hadn’t even left his mouth when he must have seen the terror on Jazz’s face. “Where are you? We’re already loading up.”
Just as he said that, Wilder could hear car doors slamming and more tires squealing as they raced to help. “We’re about fifteen miles from you on Route 110. We’ve turned around and are heading back, but I don’t think…”
Their SUV was rammed from behind stopping Wilder from saying anything more as he tried to outrun their pursuers. Four dirt bikes shot past them and Wilder knew they were about to run out of time.
“There’s no way we’re going to get away. Get here as soon as you can,” he yelled.
“Keep the connection on and try and get as many faces as you can,” the guard who had walked them from the helicopter to their vehicle said.
“How is that going to keep us alive?” Jazz squeaked out, the acrid smell of his fear caused Wilder’s grizzly to demand to be released.
Not while we’re driving buddy, but as soon as we are forced out of the car, these assholes are yours, I promise, he told his bear, which thankfully seemed to mollify him enough that Wilder didn’t have to worry about shifting as he was doing his best to outrun these killers.
“It won’t if they are after you,” the guard admitted. “But if it’s Yosi they want, they may kidnap you and knowing who we’re dealing with will help us find you faster.”
That made sense, but Wilder didn’t have time to worry about that at the moment as two of the dirt bikes stopped right in front of him, obviously hoping it would force him to stop. Their loss.
Wilder didn’t stop as he slammed into the bikes, sending the two men flying through the air. With any luck they would be dead, or at least incapacitated long enough to not be a further problem. The next two bikes were smarter. They stopped off to the side of the road far enough away to give them time to pull their weapons.
Before Wilder even had a chance of making the decision to risk them being shot at and keep going or stopping, Jazz had taken the decision out of his hands. He had barely recognized the fact that Jazz had opened his window, until he heard his mate’s gun go off and the man on the left side of the road dropped when a bullet slammed between his eyes.
The guy on the right had just glanced over to see what happened to his buddy when a second bullet went through his temple. With both men dead, Wilder raced past them, doing his best to keep the vehicle on the road even as they were once more bumped from behind.
If they managed to get out of this alive, he swore he would never doubt his mate’s ability in a dangerous situation again. He still wouldn’t like the fact that Jazz was put in that kind of environment, but at least he knew his mate could take care of himself.
Now, they just needed to keep themselves alive.
No sooner had that thought crossed his mind than two of the vehicles chasing them came up alongside of them and slammed into the sides of Wilder’s SUV. There must have been damage done to the wheels or even the axel for he couldn’t keep the vehicle on the road any longer.
He prayed for a miracle even as he slammed on the brakes and yelled to his mate, “Kill as many as you can. I love you, brown eyes.”
Then he shoved open the door and leapt from the vehicle, shifting as he did so. His paws landed on the ground, in a dead run as he yanked the first unlucky soul out of his door. The man’s scream filled the air, only to be cut off a moment later as Wilder’s jaws crushed his neck.
He and his mate may not survive this but Wilder was going to take as many with him as possible.
CHAPTER 16
I just shot someone. No. Two someones. Oh My Gods. Ohmygods, Oh My Fucking Gods. What have I done? Are they dead? Of course they’re dead, I shot one between the eyes and one in the temple. People don’t survive that shit.
The vehicle jerked to stop, yanking Jazz from his downward spiral into an abyss from which he’d might never have recovered. Then his mate was telling him to do whatever it took to protect himself and that he loved him. Before Jazz could even ask what in the hell that meant, Wilder shifted into his enormous grizzly as he leapt from the SUV.
The sound of pinging rang in his ears, reminding him of the reality course Hudson had set up. There were many wooden targets, but also a lot of steel, aluminum, and even glass, to get people used to the sounds bullets made as it hit something other than wood.
His eyes widened as it dawned on Jazz what that pinging meant. Someone was shooting at him. Well, the SUV, since if they’d hit him, he would definitely know it. Right? At that point Jazz was sure he was in too much shock to know.
A roar of outrage bellowed from his left. Wilder.
All panic and terror left Jazz as he searched for his mate. He might have had a momentary freak out considering it was his first time in this kind of situation, but no way was he going to lose it when his mate needed him.
A half dozen pings, that were way too close to hitting him in Jazz’s opinion, sounded just behind him and to the right. Crouching low, he peaked between his seat and the window. There were three men converging on his location. One was offering cover fire for the other two to approach.
Thankfully, the one shooting sucked. Praising his mate for not actually turning off the car Jazz lowered the window as the guy fired, making sure to remain low. When it was down, he glanced out once more. Spotting the two dashing across an open area, Jazz took aim.
Three shots and they both toppled to the ground. The first one he’d hit right between the eyes, just as Wilder had taught him. His mate had warned him, there was always a chance the perpetrator was wearing a bullet proof vest, so it was best, especially with Jazz’s excellent aim, to go for the head shot.
The second guy had been ready and dove, causing Jazz to miss the first time. Not giving up, he’d followed the man’s trajectory and his bullet went into his neck. The blood that poured from the wound was enough to let Jazz know he wasn’t getting up again.
Now for the shooter. The chicken had ducked down behind his own truck for cover, but that was fine with Jazz. He scrambled to the other side of SUV and climbed out the driver’s side.
But more pings against the door stopped him. Ducking down, he glanced out from under the doorframe to find six guy
s, two in animal form, one was a wolf, the other a Siberian tiger. It would take more than his Glock to take the tiger down. The other four men were watching both the fight between Wilder’s grizzly and the other two animals, and keeping an eye on Jazz to be sure he didn’t interfere.
But Jazz’s sole focus was on one of the four men, who stood watching the fight in glee as the tiger swiped his claws along Wilder’s side. Jazz knew it would take far more than that to cause his mate true injury with his thick coat of fur. But it was equally obvious, his mate’s energy was waning.
As concerned as he was about his mate, Jazz continued to stare at the man he knew, cackling at the sight of those two animals doing their best to take Wilder down.
“Father,” he cried out, sure he had to be wrong.
Two men, who appeared to be protecting Jazz’s father shot at Jazz. But they weren’t any better than the guy still hiding behind his truck.
He pressed his body down onto the ground. Aiming, he fired two shots in rapid succession. Direct hits. Jazz refused to think of how many he’d killed that day. All that mattered was saving his mate.
A yelp followed by a loud crack had Jazz glancing in Wilder’s direction. The wolf slid halfway down a tree and landed on the ground in an awkward heap. Hoping he was dead, Jazz pointed his gun at the man next to his father.
He prayed that look of surprise on the man’s features wouldn’t stay with him for the rest of his life as Jazz’s bullet slammed into his temple. There had been too much death, and for what? Jazz had no idea why his father was even there.
Standing, he went around to the back of the SUV and pulled out a rifle that he knew could take down that Siberian tiger. As he took aim, his father said, “Uh, uh, uh. No interfering.” A gun was pointed right at Jazz.
Considering how bad everyone’s aim had been, Jazz was fairly sure his father wouldn’t be able to hit him, but was he willing to take that chance? “What are you doing here, father?”
His father lips twisted into an ugly scowl. “Don’t you ever call me that,” he shouted. “You are not my son.”
“What?” Jazz was only half listening as his focus remained on his mate, who, if he wasn’t mistaken, was starting to turn the tide against the tiger. That allowed Jazz to face his father as the words he’d just spoken sank in. “What do you mean I’m not your son?”
“Your whore of a mother cheated on me, that’s what. But I got the last laugh. Not only did I make sure she got what was coming to her, I stole you from that asshole who sired you.” There was an eerie light in his father’s… er… Xeno Blythe’s eyes. It gave Jazz pause, for he truly feared the man crazy.
Did it make him selfish to pray he was telling the truth? For years, Jazz had wished this man hadn’t been his father. To have it be accurate would be like a dream come true. The question was, could he trust Xeno when his whole life the man had hated him?
“But you said I killed my mother,” Jazz pointed out as he kept a close eye on Wilder still battling it out with the Siberian tiger. He was relieved to see the tiger was bleeding profusely and starting to lose steam.
“You did kill her,” Xeno spat out. “It was bad enough that she’d left me when I was away on a trip, but to find out she’d gotten pregnant was an insult I couldn’t allow. But that stupid mate of hers had kept her protected day and night. The only chance I had to teach her a lesson had been in the hospital, after she’d given birth.”
Jazz’s heart sank. As insane as the story sounded, he knew, deep in his heart, it was true. He may not have been the one to kill her, but it was because of him that she’d died.
“And now you’ll get to feel what it’s like to lose the one you planned to live your life with.” Xeno’s glee filled eyes reverted back to the animals locked in battle. Jazz wasn’t sure if it was because he was looney toons that he’d didn’t realize Wilder was not only winning, but playing with the tiger in order to draw Xeno into revealing more.
But Jazz had heard enough. His heart ached knowing this man had not only killed his mother, but took him from his father. Jazz’s life could have been so different.
Anger surged through him as he dropped the rifle and grabbed one of the six throwing knives he had strapped to his body. Not allowing himself to think too hard, he let it fly.
Wilder must have seen the move, for he raised one strong front paw and crushed the tiger’s head beneath his massive strength. Xeno cried out but Jazz wasn’t sure if it was because he’d felt the sharp blade of the knife as it drove into the side of his throat, or because, at that exact moment he’d watched his plan to kill Jazz’s mate disintegrate before his eyes.
In seconds Wilder shifted into this human form and wrapped his arms around Jazz. When Jazz’s body started to shake and he feared he’d be unable to hold himself up, Wilder picked him up and cradled him against his chest.
Before the sob that was deep within his chest could be released, they heard a gun cock. Their gazes went to the man who’d been hiding behind the truck after Jazz had killed his cohorts.
Neither of them could access a weapon fast enough to avoid being shot at. Sure, the guy’s aim sucked, but anyone could get lucky.
“Don’t mo…” he hadn’t finished when a gunshot rang out from behind them.
“Sorry it took so long but someone had blocked the road with a tree,” one of Yosi’s guards said as he leaned his hands down onto his knees while he sucked in much needed oxygen.
“Yeah,” another said. “Our only option was to grab our gear and run.”
Just then the third guard ran around the bend. Clearly, he must have realized everything was fine, for he dropped to the ground, rolled onto his back and between breaths, said, “Fucking… Yosi… was… right… we… let… ourselves… go.”
If it wasn’t for what Jazz had just learned, he would have found the situation funny, but right now, all he wanted was to crawl into bed with his mate holding him. Looking up into Wilder’s hazel eyes, he asked, “Will you please take me home?”
Wilder leaned down and placed a sweet, gentle kiss to his lips. “Anything for you, my mate.”
Just hearing those words, that Wilder said to him pretty much daily, had some of the broken pieces of his heart stitching back together. What happened to him, and his parents, was horrible. But if it meant going through it all again to end up with Wilder, Jazz would.
He would go to hell and back to be with his mate.
EPILOGUE
Heat surrounded Jazz’s cock, causing him to moan as he woke up. Glancing down, Wilder looked up at him with a smile before taking Jazz’s hard length back into his mouth. When the tip hit the back of his mate’s throat and he swallowed, Jazz was sure he was about to lose his damn mind.
“Oh fuck, babe,” Jazz groaned out. “That feels so damn good.” As far as he was concerned waking up with his mate sucking him, or fucking him for that matter, was the best way to start the day. Although, Jazz equally enjoyed doing the same for Wilder.
His head fell back as sheer bliss rolled through him when Wilder flicked his tongue into his slit. “Yes,” he cried out, thrusting his hips up to get more of that talented mouth on him.
Damn, but he loved his mate. Wilder always seemed to know exactly what he needed. After nearly a month of searching for the name of his real father, they had come up empty, again. According to the hospital staff, Jazz’s mother died before ever filling out the birth certificate.
Which also meant the one he had, had been faked by Xeno. It was as if nothing about Jazz was real.
Two fingers pushed deep into Jazz’s entrance, forcing him to forget about the past and focus on what really mattered, his mate.
Hazel-colored eyes shining with love looked up at him as Wilder popped off his dick with a sexy sounding slurp. “Back with me, my mate?” Wilder asked, most likely knowing exactly what Jazz had been thinking about.
“Always,” Jazz said as he reached for his mate. Even as Wilder opened him up for that thick cock, he surged upward and gave Jazz w
hat he wanted, a kiss.
But not just any kiss. One that curled his toes and sent his senses reeling as Wilder dominated his mouth with his lips, tongue, and teeth. Every inch was mapped, tasted, but more importantly, worshipped.
There was no halfway with Wilder. Every time they made love, his mate ensured that Jazz knew just how much he treasured him. It was magical. It also usually drove Jazz out of his mind with lust.
“Please,” he begged as he knew Wilder loved. Not that he blamed his mate. Since Jazz felt the same way whenever he was giving Wilder head, or one of the few times he’d been the one to drive his length into Wilder’s tight body.
He’d never thought his big, strong mate would agree to bottom, but not only had Wilder done so, he’d been the one to suggest it. Apparently, Wilder felt if they were partners, they should share in everything. Although, they preferred it when Jazz bottomed most of the time, every once in a while one of them would request they switch.
Wilder’s two digits curled and brushed against his sweet spot. Jazz swore he saw stars as he flexed his hips to ride those thick digits.
“Babe,” Jazz panted out. “I need you.” Then he added, “Now.”
Every nerve ending in his body was firing as his orgasm built within him while Wilder’s mouth, hands, and especially his fingers, brought him to the brink of ecstasy. But he wanted… No… He needed to feel that thick cock filling him up. “Please,” he cried.
“Anything for my mate,” Wilder whispered in his ear. Then he nipped the fleshy lobe as he tugged his fingers free.
Jazz gasped, hating the empty feeling even though he knew it meant soon he’d get what he desired. Lifting his legs up, he placed his heels on Wilder’s shoulders.
Both of them had their gazes riveted to the spot where the head of Wilder’s cock pressed against his puckered ring. In one deep thrust they were joined. Jazz’s toes curled as his mate bottomed out inside of him.
