Legacy Found: Legacy, Book 3

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Legacy Found: Legacy, Book 3 Page 10

by N. J. Walters


  She’d never been to a store, never gone shopping until recently. Or if she had, she hadn’t remembered it. Her life before Tom was a blank, filled with the occasional shadowy memory that only brought her pain when she tried to remember. After the first ten years of her captivity, she’d stopped trying to remember and concentrated all her efforts on staying alive and trying to escape.

  As though James knew where her thoughts had gone, he rubbed his hand up and down her arm and asked, “What happened to you?”

  She sighed. She didn’t owe him any explanation. Not really. But he was taking her into his home to work, letting her meet his daughter. And she wasn’t even going to think about what he’d done for her last night.

  Her skin warmed and she suddenly felt overheated. Her flesh was tender to the touch. Her breasts ached and the area between her thighs was damp. She was aroused by his nearness, his scent.

  He had to be able to smell her. If he was like her then his sense of smell was exceptional. But he said nothing. Made no motion to pressure her into sex.

  Surely she owed him something for his kindness. Besides, he’d offered to help her uncover her past. If he was going to do that, he had to know what happened to her.

  Opening her mouth, she uttered the four words that might unlock the key to her past. “I was a prisoner.”

  James had been lying in bed enjoying the pre-dawn moments with Shelley tucked into his arms. He’d slept fairly well considering he’d had to deal with a raging hard-on all night long.

  Shelley felt right in his embrace. Like something that had been missing from his life. She helped make him feel more complete.

  He knew she was still nervous and uncertain around him. That would change only with time, when she finally understood he would do nothing to harm her.

  She was aroused. He could smell her heat. It was sweet and spicy and musky. He wanted to go down on her, spread her legs wide and eat her for breakfast. He grinned and licked his lips. But he kept still because he sensed her unease with her physical response to him.

  She wasn’t ready for a repeat of last night. Not yet. Hopefully later.

  James didn’t want to do anything to disturb the quiet, intimate mood, but knew he needed answers. He was taking her home today. There would be questions and he needed a place to start searching for answers.

  When he’d asked what had happened to her, he hadn’t quite expected the answer she offered.

  I was a prisoner.

  Those words burned in his brain. His body tensed for action, muscles rippling, breathing increasing. His wolf howled inside him. James gritted his teeth and concentrated on keeping himself from changing. He didn’t know if Shelley had been around many of her kind and wasn’t certain how she’d react if he suddenly shifted.

  Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead. His nails lengthened into claws briefly before receding once again.

  “What happened?” The words were little more than a guttural snarl.

  Shelley’s entire being was thrumming with anxiety, but he couldn’t do anything to reassure her. Not yet. He was too busy trying to control his primal nature, which wanted to track down whoever had done this to her and rip them to shreds.

  That would come later. For now, he had to keep Shelley talking. She was starting to open up to him. The last thing he wanted her to do was shut back down. He took a deep breath and began rubbing his hand up and down her arm again in a soothing manner. He needed her to relax.

  James got control of himself. His wolf, lethal and wild, crouched within him, but neither by a twitch of his muscles nor by the tone of his voice, did he betray the violence swirling within him. “Who took you?”

  Shelley didn’t look at him, keeping her face buried against his chest. Her voice was low, barely a whisper, but he heard every word.

  “I was in a cabin in the woods somewhere in Tennessee. I’m not quite sure where.” James felt her tension as she spoke, heard the flatness of her words and knew she was lying. Not about being held prisoner, but not knowing where the cabin was. He’d bet every dollar he owned, which was a considerable amount, that she could easily lead him there. He didn’t call her on it. Not now. Once he’d gained her trust she would tell him.

  “I was there for so long—” Shelley broke off, her fingers curling into a fist on his chest. He placed his hand over hers, feeling the tension vibrate through her fingers. “When I got a chance to get away, I took it. I ran and ran and ran.” She stopped abruptly. “Anyway, I got a job in the diner in Kentucky and that’s where you found me.”

  “How did you get away?” It was hard, but he kept his voice even and unthreatening when all he wanted to do was find her captors and tear their limbs from their bodies.

  She shook her head and folded her arms around herself.

  His mind swirled with the possibilities. “How long?” His voice was gruff as he swallowed a surge of fury.

  She shrugged. “I’m not quite sure. But I think it was somewhere between thirty and forty years.”

  His mind went blank and a red haze seemed to fill him. “How old are you?” The words were all but growled. He could smell her fear but he was unable to contain his volatile emotions any longer.

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Somewhere between forty-five and fifty-five, I guess.”

  He tilted back his head and howled. The sound echoed in the small confines of the room, bouncing off the walls. James could feel the cords of his neck straining as he shook with the force of his anger. He hadn’t felt this kind of rage since Leda had died in his arms.

  Shelley rolled away from him, slapped her hands over her ears and began to tremble. That knocked him back to reality in a hurry. He leaned against her and buried his face in her hair, inhaling her unique scent as he took a large breath to try and calm himself. “I’m sorry, Shelley. I’m so sorry.”

  He eased her into his arms and sat back against the headboard, cradling her to his chest. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend exactly what that kind of imprisonment would do to someone, what kind of abuse she had endured.

  He put his thumb against her chin, gently pushing until she tilted her head back and looked at him. Her face was pale, but her expression was one of determination. She might look fragile, but he couldn’t imagine many males enduring what she had and coming out alive.

  Her hand slowly came up and wrapped around his wrist. The contact soothed the angry wolf inside him. They sat there for a long time as they both assimilated what had just happened. It was James who broke the silence. “You were only a child, a teenager at best, which is still very much a child among our kind. We don’t reach adulthood until our early twenties.”

  She nodded. “I think that’s why I can’t remember too much of what came before. Whenever I brought up the past, he’d…” She buried her face against his bare chest. “He’d beat me.”

  James knew the man was dead. He had to be. Otherwise how would she have escaped? But that still didn’t keep him from wanting to exact some kind of revenge against him. The fact that he couldn’t only added to his anger and frustration.

  As much as he didn’t want to know the rest, there was a question he had to ask, even though he already knew the truth. “Did he…” He swallowed hard, having a hard time forcing the words past his lips. “Did he rape you?”

  “Not at first. But after a few years, when I was older.”

  Anguish tore through him and tears pricked his eyes. The thought of this gentle creature at some man’s mercy for all those years was almost too much to bear. But since she obviously had, he could do no less.

  He held her tight, wanting to erase those years from her mind, but knowing there was no way to make that happen. “It’s all right.” Her soft voice pulled him from his reverie. Her fingers that had been clinging so tight to him were now patting his chest, calming him. “I survived and I have the rest of my life.”

  How had he ever for a moment thought this woman was fragile or weak? Her inner strength was greater than anyone he�
��d ever known. She’d not only survived her ordeal, but she was determined to put it behind her and to build a life for herself.

  He had so many questions he still needed answers to. How had she made her first transition? And she had to have done so in order to know what a werewolf was. For a female to shift into her wolf form for the first time required a male werewolf and sexual relations for it to happen. It was Mother Nature’s way of ensuring the species mated and procreated. It might not be fair to the females but it was the way things were for them.

  What happened to the male who’d first mated with her? Was he the one who’d held her captive? Everything inside him said no. She seemed to know next to nothing about their species. This was something else. Something more sinister.

  Other questions surged forward. Was she a half-breed or a full-blooded werewolf? What did she remember about her family? What had happened to her captor? It wouldn’t do to assume he was dead. Maybe he’d gotten lax with security after all these years. Maybe he’d dropped dead of a heart attack due to old age. Thirty to forty years was a long time.

  But there was something he needed to do before he asked any more questions.

  Taking his time and giving her every opportunity to say no or to move away, James lowered his head toward her and brushed her forehead with his lips. Then he did the same with her temples, her eyelids, her pert little nose and her chin. Her breathing deepened, but she kept her eyes open, watching him.

  “I think you are the bravest and most beautiful woman I’ve ever known,” he whispered as he rubbed his lips over hers. He barely made contact with her soft mouth, not wanting to push or crowd her. A bead of sweat rolled down his back as he struggled to maintain control. Not for anything in the world would he want to do anything that would upset Shelley or frighten her. Not when she’d already been through so much.

  She deserved to be cherished and loved. And he was just the male to do it.

  He stroked his tongue along the seam of her mouth and her lips parted ever so slightly. He dipped inside, not pushing, but merely tasting before slipping out again. He kept their kiss light and playful even though his head was pounding and his body aching for a deeper contact.

  Finally, he eased back. His control was becoming more precarious with each passing second. He knew she had to feel his swollen dick poking into her side. There was no way she couldn’t.

  They were both gasping for breath as they stared at one another. Shelley smiled and put her fingers to her lips. James swallowed a groan, wanting to suck on those lovely, slender fingers. His erection twitched uncomfortably.

  “I’d never been kissed before yesterday.”

  The sheer brutality under which she’d lived came crashing down upon him. He was at a loss for words. Unable to express the anger he felt on her behalf. Another part of him, the more primitive side, was thrilled that he’d been the first to kiss those sweet lips.

  He cleared his throat. “Then I thank you for allowing me such a precious gift.”

  Something niggled at the back of his brain, something she’d said back at the diner. Call me Shelley, she’d said. “Shelley isn’t your real name, is it?”

  She stiffened and he was immediately sorry that he’d opened his mouth.

  “I don’t know.” She surprised him. He really hadn’t expected her to answer him. “It’s the only name I know, yet it’s not quite right.”

  He wrapped both his hands around her, holding her close to his heart. “It doesn’t matter. We’ll figure out where you come from. I won’t let you go until we find your rightful home.” What he didn’t say aloud was that he wanted her to make her home with him.

  He had to ask the one question that needed answering. Even though he knew in his heart it was the truth, he needed her to confirm it. “Was your captor a bounty hunter?”

  Shelley was emotionally exhausted by what had just transpired. She’d told James things that she’d never expected to tell another person. Maybe it was because she knew he was like her. He knew she was different, but he wasn’t disgusted by it at all.

  Her lips still tingled from where he’d kissed her. She hadn’t thought that she’d ever kiss a man, let alone that she’d like it. And they’d certainly done a lot more than kiss.

  Her body was warm from the heat radiating from him and she could feel the imprint of his erection against her side. He was very aroused, yet he’d done nothing about it. Tom certainly wouldn’t have hesitated. She shivered with revulsion and shoved that thought out of her head. Tom was dead and she never had to think about him again. Those days were over.

  But in order to claim her future, she had to examine the past. She knew that now. And that started by answering all James’s questions, no matter how uncomfortable they made her.

  “Bounty hunter? I’m not sure what you mean by that. He and his friends were hunters. They were always talking about catching prey and bagging wolves.”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw and James briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were filled with raw determination and power. Energy radiated from him, like a vibration.

  “Fucking bounty hunters had you for more than thirty years.” She realized he’d moved from beyond anger into fury. Yet, she didn’t fear him. She knew his rage was aimed at Tom and his buddies, not her.

  Still, her heart pounded and her palms grew damp. She eased out of James’s arms. They tightened briefly before he let her go. Shelley crawled off the bed. James sat there with his head tilted back, his bare chest gleaming with sweat, his lungs pumping hard. His jean-clad legs shifted restlessly.

  He couldn’t have been comfortable sleeping in them last night. She knew he’d done so for her sake and that made her lov—appreciate—that was the word she’d meant. She appreciated him all the more.

  Her head swam. She’d almost said the “L” word. Even if it was in her own mind, it was scary. She couldn’t love him. She barely knew him.

  That wasn’t quite true either. She knew him better than she’d ever known another male. She knew he was strong and courageous and fair. That he had a temper, but would never take it out on someone else. He was kind and generous and sexy as sin. A giving and caring lover. Someone she was coming to trust. Did trust, considering how much she’d told him this morning.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” James’s voice was low and calm.

  There was pain in his eyes and it occurred to her that she’d hurt him by moving away from him. “You didn’t. Not really.” She rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She was still wearing her thin dress with nothing underneath it.

  She hurried to her clothing and bundled it into her arms. “I’m going to get dressed now.” Obviously. Still she felt she needed to say something. She turned to go to the bathroom before she said something even more stupid.

  “This isn’t over, Shelley. We still have more to talk about.” She felt more than heard James come up behind her. He rested his hands on her shoulders and the warmth sank into her bones.

  “I know. Just not now.” She was jittery, her stomach half-sick from thinking about the past. She needed a break before she went any further.

  “Okay. You get ready and we’ll get some breakfast before we hit the road.” He released her and she glanced over her shoulder. He loomed behind her, large and fierce. His eyes flashed a darker golden before he turned away and headed to his duffle.

  Shelley hurried into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. She yanked her makeshift nightgown over her head and fumbled into her clothing. When she was fully dressed, she used the facilities and washed her face. Her brush was in the other room.

  Feeling decidedly nervous, she left the dubious safety of the bathroom. James was fully dressed in jeans and a tight white T-shirt that hugged every muscle in his torso. He’d thrown a brown plaid shirt over it, leaving it open. His duffle was zipped and sitting on the bed.

  “I’m almost ready.” She stuffed her dress into her bag of belongings and dragged the brush through her hair before pulling it
back into a short ponytail and anchoring it with an elastic.

  “No rush. We’ll make it home today.”

  Home. The word was foreign to Shelley. She couldn’t remember ever having one. She supposed she must have at some point. She’d obviously been living somewhere when Tom had taken her. His cabin was the only place she could remember and she’d never once called it home.

  Shoving the brush into the bag, she closed it. James held her coat open for her and waited. She slid one arm into a sleeve and then the other and he eased it over her back. His fingers lingered, rubbing her nape. His lips brushed the top of her head before he stepped away.

  He grabbed his coat, shouldered his duffle and opened the door. “Let’s go.”

  Shelley grabbed the shopping bag with all her new clothing as well as the bag that held her other belongings. She stepped out into the hall, wondering what challenges and surprises today would bring.

  Steve Macmillan answered his phone on the first ring, keeping his other hand on the wheel of his truck. “What have you got?” He was feeling mellow this morning. He’d hit a roadside bar and found a willing lady to take him home last night. She’d been blonde, stacked and wild in the sack. She also had a tight ass he wouldn’t forget anytime soon. He’d left her warm bed twenty-minutes ago after a quick fuck for the road. Not only had he gotten laid last night, he’d saved the money he would have had to spend on a motel.

  All he needed now was coffee, food and information and he was set.

  Red was already talking, so he listened, his mood growing darker with each word the man spoke. “Sawyer still ain’t been able to find out who the owner of that company is.”

  “Then why are you calling me?”

 

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