Shelter

by Rhyll Biest

  When he went off it was like a cocked rifle, the recoil sending a shudder through him, the moment intensified by her pure green eyes locking with his.

  It left him fending off all kinds of feelings as his heart scrambled in his chest.

  He’d just had an uber-orgasm, the Muhammad Ali of orgasms, that was all. It wasn’t love, not even that tenderness that made his brain foggy as he kissed her cheek, and the wonder when she succumbed to his brief hug.

  As the intense moment waned, the room returned, the rustle of the sheets, his own flaring breath, the tick of the bedside clock. The stinging aroma of sex.

  He pinched the condom tight with his fingers and withdrew. Once he’d binned it he rolled back to Kat’s side. ‘Jesi li dobro?’

  ‘Hey, buddy, I only speak English and Russian.’

  He gave a rusty laugh. ‘Sorry, I asked if you were okay.’ He trailed a lazy hand across her gleaming hip. If he set his watch alarm, he could wake her early in the morning for a repeat performance. The idea rebooted his libido and his cock twitched, need coiling deep within him once more.

  She laughed. ‘Whoa there, Romeo, what’s putting the breeze back in your wind sock so soon?’

  ‘You.’ He wrapped his arms tighter around her and just the softness of her slight frame was enough to unlock another excited shudder from him.

  ‘Everything okay back there, Officer Belovuk?’

  ‘More than okay.’ He raised himself on one arm to study her.

  She glanced up at him before looking away. ‘Sorry about the noise.’

  ‘You kidding? Makes me feel like a manly fucking man.’

  She gave a soft snort. ‘Yeah, but we’ll catch hell if they heard.’

  He ran a hand over his chin, the rasp of stubble greeting him. ‘It was worth it.’

  She smirked as she stretched. ‘How was my knitting?’

  He slid her a look. Like he would ever be stupid enough to answer that. He stroked her cheek. ‘You look tired.’

  ‘Gee, thanks, that’s what a girl wants to hear right after sex.’ She slapped his hand away before grabbing it back to wrap his arm around her.

  Her contrary ways fascinated him, as did her hair, her eyes, her skin and her feisty little breasts.

  She shrugged, the movement doing things to her breasts that required close observation. ‘Maybe I haven’t been moisturising enough. Or, I know, it’s because it’s three in the morning and I haven’t had a wink of sleep because some monster has been using me for sex.’

  ‘Using you?’ He made a dismissive noise. ‘That makes it sound like you didn’t get anything out of it, and I know that’s not true.’

  ‘Fishing for compliments?’ She tugged at the sheet to raise it higher and he pushed her hand away.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Alright, then. Congratulations, Officer Belovuk, you just officially knocked my petals off.’

  ‘Yesss.’ He punched the air.

  While his hand was busy she grabbed the sheet and tugged it over her chest, a smile curving her lips, and closed her eyes.

  He studied her as her breathing deepened and sleep took her captive. Right now she trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence but would tomorrow be a different story? The walls she worked so hard to build could come back higher than before, doubly fortified, and he might not get to knock her petals off again any time soon.

  Chapter 16

  It was only a short walk to the entry of the tattoo parlour but painful. She and Belovuk may have overdone things the night before and it seemed unfair that of the two of them probably only Kat was left walking bow-legged. Fortunately, Beth’s daughter hadn’t seemed to notice when Kat dropped off Stumpy.

  Much between her and Belovuk remained unresolved. She still didn’t want to date a cop but one thing was certain—they were sexually compatible.

  No question about that.

  But a lot of other things—the way she’d responded to him in bed, the things they’d done together, and that she’d trusted him—left her feeling mixed up and vulnerable. Hence she’d fled Stacey’s while Belovuk slept. But the feeling of having been laid bare—not one she enjoyed at all—dogged her.

  Where had her precious self-control been? She’d given up every ounce of it to a man she barely knew or liked. And it had been the best fucking sex of her life.

  Gah!

  Fortunately for her, she had bad guys to mess with, the perfect thing to keep her mind off wine-fuelled sexcapades. The need to get rid of Grinder, to get his dogs away from him, chewed at her insides. How could she feel safe knowing he was around?

  Until she removed him from Walgarra, his presence would shampoo unease deeper and deeper into her scalp.

  Not acceptable.

  She found Ruth smoking out the front of Grinder’s which was a tad odd as Ruth was free to smoke inside if she wanted to.

  The tattooist’s mohawk sliced through the air, a poisonous sulphur yellow replacing the previous blue tint. Kat had to wonder if Ruth was trying to make Bert jealous.

  ‘Hi, I brought the vitamins for the cockatoo.’ She held them up as proof. What a shocking liar she was. She hadn’t really needed to bring the vitamins, had just hoped Grinder—god how that stupid name annoyed her—would be around so she could rattle his cage a bit.

  Ruth frowned, gave her cigarette a testy flick. ‘I said I’d pick them up.’

  ‘I thought I’d save you the trouble.’ Good lord, that girl was surly. She reminded Kat of herself at that age.

  ‘You shouldn’t come around here.’

  Like she didn’t know that. ‘Sorry.’ Perhaps she should back it up and look for Grinder at the track instead. Not fair to involve Ruth.

  ‘But since you are here …’ Ruth tilted her head to give her a speculative look, sunlight glinting off her nose piercing.

  ‘Yes?’

  Ruth ground her cigarette out beneath a Doc Martin. ‘I heard a kitten out back when I was moving something. It was crying but I couldn’t see it.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘I’ll show you. It’s inside a blackberry bush.’

  For a second Kat was silent. ‘Are you fucking with me?’

  Ruth laughed. ‘Nope.’

  If she’d known about the blackberry, she would’ve brought several extra layers of clothing. Plus worn something made from woven titanium.

  Kat returned to her car, grabbed a cap and an all-purpose towel from the passenger seat, and tried to remember what kind of gloves and overalls she had in the boot. No, better to get proof that the kitten existed first.

  Cap firmly on her head, which would hopefully protect her eyes from the blackberry, she tightened her ponytail as she joined Ruth. ‘Show me.’

  They trudged around the back, a neglected space filled with rubbish, discarded parts and … blackberry. Lots of it. All the rusted cans of stinking oil and a-fireman-only-knew-what-else were probably a fire hazard but, hey, not Kat’s circus, not her monkeys.

  She scanned the bushes for movement or a patch of fur. ‘I don’t see anything.’

  ‘Shh, listen for it.’

  Nothing. And then a faint squeaking.

  Holy elephant dung lampshades. She glanced at Ruth before wrapping the towel around her arm and crouching down by the clump of blackberry emitting the sound. The smell of sump oil and grease stung her nostrils—she’d be high from petrol sniffing before she knew it. Perhaps that would blunt the pain of wrestling with a blackberry bush. The squeaking intensified and, holding her breath, she stuck her arm inside a clump and prayed she wasn’t reaching for a nest of rats.

  The tangle of vine and thorns resisted, a physical force that pushed back as she tried to work her hand past. ‘Ow! Fuck!’

  Ruth grinned at her. ‘Language.’

  A tiny tongue, rough and warm, licked her fingers. Dehydrated or grateful, take your pick. ‘She’s licking my fingers,’ she told Ruth. Maybe it wasn’t a ‘she’ but that would have to be determined later.

  After a second
she registered that there was more than one tongue licking her. Holy kittens in a blackberry bush. ‘How the hell did you lot get stuck in there?’ She would probably leave half her skin behind trying to get them out.

  As if to confirm the statement, her towel got caught as she extracted her arm and several thorns chewed her arm. The scratches would soon itch unbearably. ‘Shit mittens.’

  ‘What was that?’ Ruth’s tone was gleeful.

  Kat gave her a sideways look. ‘I said I’m going back to the car to get my choppers, overalls and gloves.’

  ‘Do you need any help?’

  ‘Yeah, stop me from cutting my hair with the shears if I get too high on petrol fumes, won’t you?’

  Ruth glanced at her hair. ‘I dunno, could be interesting.’

  ‘See if you still feel that way once my mohawk outshines yours.’

  It took twenty minutes of chopping and swearing before she hacked away enough blackberry bush to reach the kittens, and by then—overalls or no overalls—her arms were a shredded mess ablaze with scratches.

  She reached in and was able to grab one kitten. It kept squeaking and licking her fingers before it pressed its face into the crook of her elbow. The buzz of having saved it salved her torn and itching flesh. ‘Aren’t you gorgeous? Where’s your mum?’

  ‘Can you see the others?’ Ruth hovered.

  ‘Hold her, please.’ Kat passed the kitten to her and above Ruth’s cooing heard a faint noise from the blackberry.

  Eii, eii.

  She frowned, fought the bulk of thorny vines to get closer to the sound. Her hand met something solid, metallic. A car part? She tugged at it. Nothing doing. Bastard.

  She withdrew from the blackberry brambles so keen to rip her to shreds. ‘There’s more in there but they’re under something that’s too heavy for me to budge. I think it’s some kind of car part that’s sunk into the clay ground.’

  Ruth paused her smooching of the kitten long enough to raise a pierced eyebrow. ‘But we have to get them out too, right?’

  ‘We? I don’t see you up to your arse in blackberry.’

  Ruth grinned. ‘I’m helping from the sidelines, cheering you on.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s such a big help.’

  ‘Hey, it’s hot out here, I’m sweatin’ my hole out.’

  ‘Charming.’ Kat sighed. ‘Don’t freak out but I’m going to have to call someone to help.’

  Ruth’s grin vanished. ‘Who? My dad won’t be happy if strangers come around.’

  I bet. ‘I can’t move this on my own.’

  Ruth fiddled with her nose piercing. ‘I dunno, I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

  ‘So you’re happy to leave the rest of the kittens to die?’

  Ruth gave her a sharp look. ‘Of course not. Just, yanno, make it quick.’

  Good to know Ruth had her priorities straight. ‘I will. While we’re waiting, can you get a box for the kittens, something soft inside would be good, like a towel. And grab some water in a small container. If you dip your finger in it that one will lick it off.’

  Ruth disappeared inside with the kitten, leaving Kat to call the shelter. Frustration welled as she got an engaged signal.

  She didn’t have all day to play in the backyard of Walgarra’s favourite crime lord. She’d just have to do her best. ‘You are Satan’s bush,’ she told the tangle of blackberry before attacking it once more with her cutters. Progress was slow. What she really needed was a frigging laser beam. The scent of grease and oil cut her nasal passages as she snipped and hacked.

  Ruth returned, sat on a pile of tyres with the kitten in her lap. Kat eyed her in between fighting the blackberry.

  She’d bet ninety-nine percent of people were too scared to talk straight to the tattooist. The facial piercings, ink and attitude warned people off. But Ruth was really just a young woman, barely out of her teens, who’d had to develop a scary shell to protect herself. Kat knew all about that. ‘Have you ever thought of moving out of home? What with your dad being a drug dealing biker and all?’

  Ruth’s kohl-rimmed eyes narrowed. ‘Are you playing social worker now? Why don’t you focus on saving the rest of them kittens instead?’

  ‘I’m multi-tasking.’ She wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. ‘So which is it, you can’t leave or you don’t want to leave?’

  ‘My dad lets me use this place for free, you know. Didn’t charge me anything so I could set up my own business.’

  Misplaced loyalty. Kat knew about that too. ‘You know he’s probably using your business to launder money, don’t you?’

  Ruth hesitated, kept her eyes on the kitten. ‘So what? Everybody uses everyone else.’

  Good point. Kat didn’t have a comeback for that.

  A prickling between her shoulder blades alerted her to the presence of someone behind her. She stiffened. If she’d completely and utterly been abandoned by the gods, it would be one of the resident bikers or even Grinder.

  A large figure loomed behind her, the sun blocking out his features.

  Please, please, don’t be Grinder having just overheard me accuse him of using his daughter to launder drug money …

  She raised a hand to her eyes and discovered Luka, his expression frigid as he studied her.

  ‘Fuck.’ She rubbed her sternum. ‘You nearly gave me a heart attack.’

  ‘Likewise.’

  ‘Huh?’

  A jaw muscle twitched. ‘I nearly had a heart attack when I saw your car parked outside. What the fuck were you thinking coming in here?’

  With a scared glance at Luka, Ruth disappeared inside the garage with the kitten. Kat thought she could guess why. Ruth wanted to distance herself, so she could claim she hadn’t known about any police on the property. Fair enough.

  She met Luka’s irate glare. Given his usual aloof calm, any sign of actual anger or disapproval almost blistered. But she was an old hand at dealing with the anger of those close to her. ‘I didn’t come here for fun, a report came in and I had to come.’ Well that wasn’t exactly true but she was rescuing kittens.

  The dark slash of his brows lowered further. ‘You’re telling me that someone from this place called you about rescuing an animal? Tell me when they did that. In between getting a mani and a pedi? Preparing for bible class?’

  Ha-ha-ha. She sucked her cheeks to suppress a rude rejoinder. ‘Ruth called me.’

  ‘You know who she is, right?’

  ‘Yeah, she’s the person who called about an animal in need.’

  ‘She’s the daughter of Grinder, the biggest drug dealer in town.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’ She raised her cap to wipe sweat from her brow.

  ‘See that, that is exactly the kind of thinking that got Mark killed.’ His voice grew raspy with emotion.

  Her stomach twisted. His anger she could take but he had no right to judge what she did. No right to judge what he saw as the stupid, needless shit done by RSPCA inspectors to save animals. Stuff him. He could turn into a giant rage monster and she was still going to do her job. ‘Are you going to help me rescue these kittens or do I need to call someone else?’

  ‘Show me,’ he growled.

  She eyed his bare arms. ‘You need some cover for your arms or the blackberry will rip the shit out of them.’

  He stared at her bleeding scratches. ‘They’re inside the blackberry?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Well, fuck me, isn’t that just the duck’s nuts.’ He made an exasperated sound before picking up the towel she’d discarded, along with a long steel fence stake. ‘Let’s do this.’

  She dived back inside the blackberry, sweating, swearing and wrestling with it until her boot hit the solid steel mass again. She kicked it so that it gave a dull thud. ‘Hear that? I think it’s part of a car body. The kittens are inside but I can’t lift it to see.’

  There was silence as they both listened for the tired squeak of a fading kitten. A splintering sound rent the air, making her jump. The splintering was the sound
of Luka shoving his way through the blackberry and splitting woody branches like an African elephant might tear down a tree.

  He hissed in pain. ‘There goes the fucking towel.’ But he kept ramming the bush, splitting it asunder. The splintering sound kept up until he appeared beside her, bleeding from a thousand thorn scratches on his arms and neck.

  ‘Oh, shit.’ Her eyes widened as she took in the extent of the damage to him.

  The still winter of his gaze rested on her. ‘This is going to cost you at least ten more de-escalation classes. Private ones. Possibly nude.’

  Her stomach gave a dizzy swoop.

  He tore at a vine buried in his forearm like barbwire. ‘And a tube of antibiotic cream.’

  She bit her lip. ‘Deal.’

  ‘Okay, give me a bit of space.’

  She stepped back as much as the tight knit of bramble would allow.

  He used the steel stake like a blind man’s cane, feeling around the steel car part, the exploration creating a hollow clang that rang through her ears.

  What was he looking for?

  He gave a grunt of satisfaction as he found what he sought, enormous shoulders straining as he used the stake as a lever to lift the steel mass trapping the kittens. ‘Get ready to grab,’ he muttered.

  She glanced at him, at the veins popping on his rigid arms, and the metal stake. She was woman enough to enjoy the view but if he dropped the car body at the wrong moment she would be a woman missing limbs.

  The squeaking from beneath the car part grew vociferous.

  She could have wussed out, could have opted to wait until some blocks were put in place for extra safety, but Galenka, her internal gremlin, prodded her with a sly, green, scaly finger. You pussy, Kat. Pun intended. You think you hands deserve? Why? Save kittens, useless girl.

  ‘Go!’ Luka threw his body forward and the steel gave a shriek. Four wide blue eyes in grey fuzzy faces blinked up at Kat. She dived past Luka, grabbed a scruff in each hand and was about to retreat from under the filthy, rusting hulk when fire broke out below her hairline.

  ‘Shit! Fuck!’ She dropped the kittens to slap at her skin, her fingers brushing a scaly body. ‘Motherfucker.’ A fat, wriggling centipede dropped to land by her boots. She stomped on it to keep it from bouncing back to attack her.