by Kiki Howell
“Hey, that’s mean.”
Not wanting to come on strong about the way she was running her business, he decided to take a pause. “It’s the truth. My love, after we eat and do other things, how about you give me a list of things I can do to help you get through the next two weeks.”
She eyed him with a bit of suspicion. “What about your business? Don’t you have things to do with that?”
“Yes, but I have systems and processes in place.”
“Uh-huh. And, I’m running like a chicken with her head cut off then.”
“No, I didn’t say that.”
“But that’s what you meant.”
“Are we going to fight about this now? If so, let me get some food into you first.”
That must have been enough to make her realize where this was going.
“No, we’re not going to fight. I just don’t like having to face my failings. This is my first company. I’m acutely aware of a lot of things I’ve done that are coming back to bite me in the ass.”
“Have you considered starting over with a new company, using the things you learned from this one?”
“No, this is my baby.”
“An unruly baby that will only allow you and no one else to calm it down. That can’t be good, but hey,” he raised his hands in surrender, “like you said, it’s your company. I’ll be here if you want any help or advice. No matter what, I’m always going to offer my support, whatever you decide to do.”
The phone lit up again. From his vantage point, Mac saw another client begging for her to please help him with his poker party and then he could allow her two weeks off. Before he could stop himself, he snatched the phone and read the message. Amazingly, she didn’t take the phone back. Taking the opening, he opened up the other text messages coming in. All of them were the same, ignoring her message and asking her to still run just this one errand before taking off. He didn’t have to see his face to know it was red with anger.
That was it.
“Bronwyn, this is unacceptable. You’re a service, not their damned mother.”
“I know, but if I don’t find a way to get these things done, my business and reputation will be toast.”
“No, they won’t, watch.” He started typing out a message and blocking her swinging arms as she tried in vain to retrieve her phone. “Let me finish up, you can read it before pressing send. Deal?”
Finished, he gave back the phone with the reply. As she read it, his mind ran through what they could eat for lunch.
“I like it.” Looking over at him with awe—he loved that—she blew him a kiss and added, “I’m copying...and pressing send to all of them.”
When the smile of successful completion brightened her features, he wanted to add more encouragement. “Doesn’t that feel good? When dealing with clients, you are always in a state or training or reinforcing boundaries. They’ll try you. Be firm, yet kind, and they’ll respect you and what you provide. The more you bend, the more they’ll push you into the floor. My love, you have a great heart. It shows in how much you do and your work, but that heart doesn’t need to be all over the place with your clients.”
Her phone’s face lit up again. He waited until her face screwed up in disbelief. Taking the phone out of her hands again, he read the most disturbing message from the local baseball player named Scott.
Text message:
Look you fat, black bitch, I pay you to do what I ask. Not give me excuses for why you can’t deliver. You’ve got exactly six hours before I come and find you if you don’t deliver on what I’ve told you to do. Don’t do it and I’ll sue your ass so fast and hard you’ll be trying to regroup into the next century.
The guy was sick, twisted, and his ass was Mac’s.
“Baby? Hold up, I’ve got this.” She tried to take the phone out of his hand, but it was too late.
Mac pressed send and the speaker button and waited as the jerk answered.
“Yeah, I thought so,” Scott said, his aggression in full force. “You better get over to my place in the next hour and take care of that bitch. She needs to be gone, the place cleaned and my cleaning hanging in the closet by the time I get there later today. I paid you. Hell, I pay you better than you’ll ever be able to get from any of your other broke-ass wanna-be customers. Without me, you wouldn’t have half the business you have coming your way. You better be glad I put you on with my dudes. Don’t fuck around with me, you owe me bitch,” Scott yelled into the phone.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll hang up, erase this number from your caller list and pray I don’t come for you.”
“Who the hell is this?” Scott was breathing hard like he suffered from a case of roid rage.
“This is MacMillan Kelnar, Bronwyn’s mate.
“Her what? She never let on that she had a guy. Where is she? Put her on the phone. My business is with her, not you, you son of a bitch.”
That was the exact opening he’d been looking for.
“Since you’ve invoked my honor to defend my mother, I think it’s time you learned your place and some manners. Take a moment to Google my name plus the board for your ball club. I’ll wait.”
“Look you douche’ I don’t care who in the hell you are. You’re poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. Put her on the phone and stay out of this. This is between her and me. We have a deal, and I expect her to deliver on it. Don’t do it, and I’ll sue.”
Mac looked over to see Bronwyn tearing up. This guy’s ass was his. No one would make his mate cry and get away with it.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. I’m going to give you one last chance to apologize, hang up and save your ass from destruction.”
“Hah! Dude, you’re so freaking delusional it isn’t funny. Hey Bronwyn, your guy is trying to show off in front of you, but I mean what I say. Get over there now, or I’ll make your life a living hell and destroy you in this town. When I’m done, you won’t be able to hold a cup at a stop light to beg for change.”
“You just threatened my mate.” Mac fought back the acrid taste of nitrous bubbling in his stomach. If he’d been standing in front of him, Scott would have been incinerated to ashes by now. Over the line and too cocky to live, this guy must be clueless that he was going down.
“Mac, no baby, he’s not worth it,” Bronwyn said.
“Bronwyn! I knew you could hear me. I’m not playing with you,” Scott yelled over the phone’s speaker.
“Do not speak to my mate again,” Mac said, leaving the bed to put on clothes.
His Dragon was already homing in on where the guy lived, using his heartbeat signature to locate him. That was another gift he possessed, the ability to locate his prey by their heartbeat over vast distances. Mac held a lot of his traits close to his chest that he didn’t readily reveal. Human and Dragon alike, he was a predator who won. This was more than winning, this was about protecting his mate.
A vision of the guy’s location flashed in his inner eye, giving Mac the exact location where this Scott was. With a little maneuvering to fly above the clouds but out of the way of air traffic, he’d be there in less than ten minutes.
Eyes watched as he rummaged for jeans and a shirt. He could take of leave the shoes. His goal was to dress enough not to offend or break human laws if anyone saw him.
“Bronwyn, you hear me. Speak up, now,” Scott said again.
“That was the last time you spoke to my mate. See you soon, Scott.” Mac disconnected the call.
“Baby, baby,” she said, scrambling to get out of the bed. Bronwyn didn’t walk as well as she thought, favoring that foot in the soft cast. “Hold up, he’s not worth it. Scott’s just talking. Give him time to cool off, and everything will be fine. I’ve just never told him no before.”
Mac said nothing about Scott, placing a kiss on his mate’s forehead. “Going to take care of a few things, is all. Get back in bed. I’ll only be gone an hour at most. Do you think you can wait until I get back to eat? If not, I’ll g
et Danny to bring over some food and put it in the kitchen.”
“Mac, are you listening to me. I said, stand down. Leave Scott to me. I can take care of this.”
“But you don’t have to. We’re we now. That means he was talking to me as well. Oh, I know he was talking to me when he insulted my mother and threatened my heart’s treasure.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Never you mind. I promise not to kill him, but know that after I’m done, you’ll have your apology and no more arrogant asshole Scott to deal with.”
“Please, don’t do this,” she pleaded, eyes still moist from tears falling.
“Please, do this for me—go back to bed and rest your foot. I still sense low-grade pain. When I get back, I’m doing a healing session with you.” Giving her a quick kiss, he scooped her up and deposited her back on the bed. “Stay put, or your Dragon will be very unhappy.”
He left before she could make another plea that would tear at his heart. Less than a minute and he was out the back of the house and soaring high. Where he lived gave Mac enough time to gain altitude before running the risk of being seen. He was up, flying fast through the clouds. Eyeing a few aircraft overhead, he detoured a moment to hide in a patch of fluffy white clouds. Once clear, he increased his speed, headed north to where Scott, the asshole, lived.
Another seven minutes and he was pressing the guy’s front doorbell. His Dragon senses locked in on where he was inside. It didn’t take long for the door to open with the baseball player holding a metal bat in hand. Seeing Scott in person and unguarded it made sense. He knew exactly what Scott was.
Giving him another quick once over, the scent of sweet-smelling prey fear that wafted off the guy told him Scott knew what he was as well. Mac locked in, straightening to a battle stance. Scott knew without a shadow of a doubt the hell his mouth had thrust him into as well. Mac would make this quick. He had an injured mate to get back home to.
“Hello Scott, I’m MacMillan Kelnar. I’m here to finish our conversation.” For added effect, he smiled wide and open allowing his incisors to elongate for the guy’s benefit.
Scott’s eyes grew larger, taking in the site. Mac stood stark still, all six feet seven inches of him, humming with power and ready to pounce.
“Hey man, I was just, you know, blowing off some steam. I didn’t mean no harm, you know what I’m saying?”
Mac remained silent as he extended a hand, grabbed Scott by the collar of his t-shirt and lifted the guy up with ease.
“Let’s take this inside, shall we?” he said, stepping into Scott’s house, not bothering to lower Scott as the back of the fool’s head hit the top of the door sill.
Chapter Seventeen
BRONWYN
Time slowed down as if in stasis as she waited in bed, too stunned and wound up to move. Mac had left with no shoes on, and she could only hope that he’d changed his mind to go for a walk or run to cool off. As soon as the thought formed, her intuition dinged flooding her with the fact that he took a direct flight path in the middle of the day to take care of Scott. How had everything escalated so fast?
“Oh no, please no.”
To occupy herself with something to do, she thumbed through her messages viewing them differently than before. Mac had a point. Message after message ignored the fact that she had a broken foot, instead of pleading and in some cases demanding she continue to work. A hard truth hit her in the gut. Bronwyn was at fault, not her guys. Had she done better at managing her business and what she would and wouldn’t do, this situation wouldn’t be happening. Because of her inability to run a proper business, Mac might be out there about to commit assault on Scott.
Scott.
She shook her head at how blind she’d been to ignore how much of a bastard he was. Thinking back on their interactions, he’d treated her like the help or his personal property to boss around whenever he wanted to. So desperate to get and keep business, any business, Bronwyn had endured him and his other jerky friends for a few dollars. Self-deprecation hit hard as she fought to maintain a sense of worth. She’d worked too hard and long to fall back down into the spiral of despair where no one wanted her. Bronwyn wasn’t the thrown away child, hiding in the shadows anymore.
Unable to stop herself, her mind conjured up memories of not belonging to anyone. Found as a newborn in the back of an abandoned home in a run-down part of town, she’d been put into a state-run facility. She’d heard the whispers that if she’d been cuter, white, anything more than what she was, her chances of placement would be greater. Foster care was a joke. Most of the folks were either overwhelmed with too many kids or just in it for the money. More comfortable in the invisible background, going about her way, Bronwyn had perfected the art of running away. After she’d been deemed a flight risk for running away from every home placement given to her, Bronwyn lived until she’d aged out at the facility.
Simple things others took for granted, she obsessed over. The life skills training she’d received growing up was a joke. Still lacking the confidence, the last thing she wanted Mac to know was that she couldn’t cook well enough to trust her food to be edible. How was she going to be a good mate when she couldn’t cook?
Beneath her business was the fact that she did a lot of those errands as part of her way of learning and compensating for how she grew up. If Ollie only knew that her ability to order the best food was because she wanted to find the food that tastes most like what she thought love would be if eaten. This and other little things helped her know the best places to go and use to get things done. She’d lived in the shadows for years trying to learn from observation how to be a normal person in society.
Willing herself back to the present, her phone refused to cease with the messages of whiny-ass grown men complaining, begging, and fussing at her for not continuing to manage their lives as usual. Mac’s presence had been a strength she didn’t realize until now. Only a day into knowing him and she knew they were inseparable from here on. It made sense why he’d gone to deal with Scott when she considered how strong their bond was this fast. Plus, he’d always been her Dragon for as long as she could remember. He’d always been there to take her up high over the cares of this world into one only they could inhabit.
Taking a chance that he might be able to feel her, she said out loud, “Mac, please come back to me now. Don’t do anything crazy or stupid. I need you back here with me.”
Her prayer that he could hear her was interrupted by his voice, distant but discernible in her heart, “Already on my way back. Scott and I came to an understanding.”
“You can hear me?”
“Yes, we’re joined, remember. We’ll always be connected from now on.” Her smile was huge, easing the angst that had clouded her ability to stay calm. The more he spoke, the clearer it became. “Are you still in bed like I asked you to be?”
Here he was out fixing another one of her screw ups and all the man could think about was her well-being. Tears anew welled up, prepared to fall. “Yes, I’m right where you left me.”
“Good, I’ll be back by your side in less than fifteen minutes.”
“Thank God you’re safe. You scared me when you left like you did.”
“I’m fine. I’m your Dragon. Stop talking to me now and rest. I don’t want you getting a bad headache. It takes time to build up to mental linking like this. See you back at home soon, my love.”
She felt the connection wane as he must have done some type of mental disconnect. Not wanting to chance her foot starting to hurt or making her injury worse, Bronwyn didn’t get up to pace like she wanted to. Funny, she only now realized that when she was touching Mac or in very close proximity to him, her foot didn’t hurt at all. When he wasn’t close, she felt the dull pain come back and begin to grow.
Life with Mac was better than without him. Her impact on him, on the other hand, wasn’t as rosy. Since their meeting, he’d had to almost single-handedly clean her condo, move her things, and deal with a crazed ex-cl
ient. Bronwyn had to do better. No, she had to be better. This couldn’t be a lop-sided mating where he was always cleaning up after her. Deciding to take the bull by the horn to fix her issues, Bronwyn opened her email account, set up a Broadcast message, and drafted a message to all current and past clients saying until further notice, her business was on hold. Re-reading the message she noticed a few phrases here and there that could be ambiguous. Referencing Mac’s text message back to Scott, she patterned her message like that, taking out a lot of the explaining and fluff.
God had sent her a mate who excelled in her areas of weakness. When everything settled down, she’d take Mac up on his offer to teach her how to properly run a business. Remembering the money he’d given her knowing he’d refuse to take it back, she’d put it to use to pay the few lingering bills she had. That was the cushion needed for her to be able to survive without having to work for a while. Everything was falling into a nice, tidy, order.
The light sensor in the corner of the room flashed from green to red, alerting her that Mac or his guy, Danny must be in the house now.
“Mac, is that you?” she yelled from the bed, hoping the thick walls this place was reinforced with wouldn’t snuff out her voice traveling.
Nothing came back. Maybe he was still downstairs? She wouldn’t try to yell again. Mac would be back up here soon enough. Throwing a sheet over her chest to ward off the little chill she’d gotten being naked, she propped a few more pillows behind her and kept working on her phone to put her business activities on hold.
Another few minutes and a passing thought of what Mac must be doing downstairs crossed her mind, but not enough to get up and see. Her thought was that he might be down there fixing them something to eat. Her Dragon was an amazing mate. At the thought of food, her stomach growled again, putting on a performance to rival the one from earlier.
She wanted to laugh. In all her years of life, never had she been so involved in anything or anyone enough to forget to eat for going on two days. Mac was one of a kind, and it stood to reason that her entire world would be turned upside down when she mated with her Dragon.
