by Maria Amor
Despite Trey’s obvious ability to take care of himself, the unease wouldn’t leave her. Trey said a woman was targeting shifter men and stealing from them. If she could get past shifter barriers, why couldn’t Mack? Wiping her palms on her jeans, Gia put the cell back. Maybe she should head home and swing by the police station. She could show them the messages and make a report—something—to keep Trey out of this.
Annoyed that this problem was stepping all over her happiness with Trey, she crossed into the barn. Her cell beeped just as she crossed the threshold. With a growl, she checked it, absently walking down the aisle between the stalls.
I’ll be there soon. By the way, Hope is feeling better. If you’d like it to stay that way, you’ll be happy to see me.
“Oh my God!” She couldn’t hold back the raw disgust and anger in her voice. Nearly throwing the phone, but needing to call Hope, Gia glanced up with a sneer, catching sight of a man with his back to her at the end of the aisle. He was shirtless, and she did a double take, wondering if she was really seeing what was before her. It happened fast—her brain registering the broad shoulders and tapered torso covered in flesh scarred with misshapen shin, silvery lines, ridges and dips—him turning around and recognition hitting her before she saw his face.
She’d felt those ridges, on Trey’s shoulders, beneath his shirt.
His face fell when he glanced behind him and saw her, the shirt he had balled in one hand dropping to the ground. Tears welled in her eyes, a helpless sensation filling her chest. Something horrible had happened to Trey, something he’d hidden from her. His face paled as he spun to face her, grabbing the shirt from the floor and scrambling to get it on.
Their eyes caught. Gia took a step to rush to him, to soothe him somehow, but the sudden ice in his expression stopped her.
“Gia.” There was no welcome in the way he said her name. A slow tremor started in her middle and spread to her limbs. His eyes narrowed and she recalled what she’d said when she’d walked in. He probably thought she’d been commenting on his back… Oh God, the way she’d said it. No, no, no. From the corner of her eye, she saw his brothers come to stand by Trey. Her heart ached to go to him, but it seemed like an iceberg had dropped between them. Unwilling to let him see the tears that spilled over her eyes, she spun and walked to the entrance. He’d mistake her sympathy as pity, probably, and combined with Mack’s messages, she needed an emotional buffer—just a few minutes to get her shit together and call Hope to be sure her friend was okay.
Clutching her cellphone in one hand, Gia trotted up to the house, had just made it up the porch when the sound of boots stomping up the stairs behind her made her spin. Trey grabbed her forearms, his eyes hard, but his face soft.
“Didn’t like what you saw?” His voice was accusing, rubbing her raw. Desperate to call Hope, yet hating the pain in Trey’s eyes, Gia pulled away from him, unsure what to do to reassure him.
“No. I mean, no, that’s not—“
“I thought you were different. That I could share this part of myself with you, and you’d accept me for who I am.” His hands dropped to his sides, a crestfallen look washing over his features. The strong man, the resilient bear, seemed reduced to an uncertain little boy. She reached for him, but he skirted her touch, pain replacing everything else.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered.
He smirked. “Admitting I was burned in a house fire hasn’t worked well in the past, so.”
After what they’d shared yesterday, the way their hearts had connected as well as their bodies, did he really doubt her ability to accept him? Knowing they needed to sit down and talk, Gia needed reassurance that Hope was fine before she could focus on anything else.
Putting a hand up, she took a step back. “I need to go.”
He snagged her wrist and yanked her into him. His damp tee shirt was warm with his body heat and contoured to every dip and rise of his perfect chest. The movement sent her cell phone clattering to the porch floor. Trey frowned and stepped back, both of them reaching for the phone at the same time. As she bent, the rock worked up from her front jeans pocket and plopped out. It made a lopsided roll, ending up at Trey’s feet.
He looked at it, then slowly up to her. Her heart fluttered at the accusation in his eyes.
Straightening, she had the sudden sense of just how tall Trey was, how broad and masculine. He was the ultimate protector, and a man who loved, who cared, on a deeply hidden and passionate level. She wanted to burrow beneath all his layers and get to know each one. Yet, she had the feeling she was about to lose it all.
“What's this in your pocket?” He retrieved the constellation geode and held it out for her to see. Are you a thief? His biting words came back to her, and the heat drained from her face with the realization of how bad this looked.
“Yes, it was. But I only wanted to ask you about it…”
“Damn it, Gia.”
Anger flared to life inside her. How dare he pull this hot and cold shit again? He either believed her or he didn’t, and if not, then she definitely knew where she stood with him. She had other things to worry about right now, and as much as it gutted her, if she had to go home to handle it, she would.
“What else is in your pocket? Your purse, your suitcase?”
Her nostrils flared, even as she picked up on how his voice lacked conviction. As if he couldn’t believe he was being such a dick.
“How about I leave it all here, and you can go through it while I’m gone? Okay?” With that, she grabbed her cell from his hand and stormed into the house.
“What do you mean, gone?”
Gia ignored him and went inside, dialed Hope’s number. Turning her back to Trey, she chewed her bottom lip until her friend finally answered. “Are you okay?” Gia kept her voice low. “I mean, really okay?”
The sound of crunching came through the line, and then swallowing. “I’m fine. Why do you sound weird?” More crunching. Doritos, if Gia had to guess, which meant Hope probably was just fine. She doubted her friend would be downing spicy nacho if she was being held against her will or something.
“Nothing.”
“How’s sexy bear shifter?”
Gia clenched her eyes. “Ooops, I have to go. I’ll call you later.” She could almost hear Hope roll her eyes before she clicked off. Satisfied, barely, that Hope wasn’t in immediate danger—as flimsy as the threat was to begin with—Gia turned back to Trey.
Hands on his hips, jeans slung low, shirt messy and untucked and his wet hair sticking up in blades, he was everything she’d ever wanted wrapped up in a layer of mistrust and bitterness.
“I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me.” She said, settling her gaze on his. “I don’t regret making love with you, or the time we’ve spent together, but I’m worth more than being analyzed and suspected at every turn.”
He looked to the side and took a breath. “It’s time to come clean, Gia.”
“You’re unbelievable.” Hurt dug deeply into her heart. So much for thinking shifter men were different than human ones. Trey was bigger, but his dumbass side was the same. Resolved, she threw her hands up helplessly. “I have to get going.”
“You see my back and you run. I confront you, and you leave. Who’s unbelievable, now?”
“Damn you!” Gia’s lower lip trembled, but she refused to give in to tears, or to how hard her soul was breaking, or how damn good he looked. “I have to get home and make a police report, you jackass, for harassment. He threatened my friend.”
Trey stepped forward, his brow knitting. “Who? The person who kept calling?” He looked like he might touch her, and she couldn’t allow it.
“Yes. See? This isn’t about you.”
“Do you know who it is?” He shook off her last statement.
“I think so.”
“Who?” His intentions to help her were touching, but the warmth she felt was misplaced. Accepting anything from a man who didn’t trust her—who thought the worst o
f her—was only prolonging the inevitable.
She crossed her arms. “This isn’t going to work.” Flashes of yesterday invaded her mind. His mouth on hers, the feel of him inside her as the wind threaded through her hair.
Xander opened the door and stuck his head in. “Trey, we need you.”
Trey clenched his jaw, leveling her with a stare that she couldn’t read. “Stay here. Gia. I’ll be back.”
She didn’t promise, made no indication either way. She knew she wasn’t going to stay, and deep down, he probably did, too. When he turned and walked out, she knew it was for the best.
THE FINAL CHAPTER
“What the hell happened in there?” Xander’s eyes were burning into the side of Trey’s face, and he was going to lose his shit in about two seconds.
“Stop staring at me.”
“She saw your back and freaked, didn’t she?”
Trey pressed on the wrench to tighten the washer on the water line, snugging it harder than he had to. A little bit more and he’d probably bend the pipe. “Yep.” The exclaim that had come out of her mouth when she’d seen him, so filled with disgust and bitterness had been the arrow through his heart. He’d been in that place before, being scorned because of his scars. But he’d never expected it from Gia. What they had together seemed so real, so natural, as if they’d been made to pair together—that she’d been made to bear his mark.
There was nothing superficial about her. Which is why he was having such a hard time believing she’d been trying to steal the geode. Even as he’d accused her, it hadn’t seemed right. In his heart, he’d stopped really feeling she was the thief a while ago. But he’d been blindsided before—not something a shifter with his instincts wanted to admit. No wonder Gia got away with just taking what she wanted. She knew how shamed men would be to admit they’d been fleeced.
Blinded by her beauty and the delicious way she used her body. Ridiculous. If he really believed he’d been played, then why did he care so much about the phone calls and the threat toward her friend? He couldn’t not trust her and still have this much protectiveness pumping through him.
“Just throwing this out there,” Xander said, putting his hands up, palms out. “But is it possible you were being oversensitive?”
She couldn’t leave. Not without him. The back of his neck started to tingle, the bear making a wide circle inside before it started to claw at his skin. There was a ring of truth to Xander’s words. Maybe her reaction had had nothing to do with him. Maybe she really had intended to ask him about the geode versus trying to steal it. He dug it from his own pocket and rolled it on his palm. This one had a little insect fossil on the back—of course she’d be excited about it.
Fossils reminded her of her father, whom she’d loved so much. Now, thanks to him, they might remind her of what assholes men could be.
He didn’t want to be the reason she became jaded about anything, nor could he allow her to walk into danger. He cared—more than cared.
Damn it.
Throwing down the wrench, he stood. He’d had to attend to the leak in the barn’s piping before it turned into an unfortunate flood. Besides, it had given him an excuse to put some distance between Gia and him. He didn’t want distance—he wanted her here. More, he wanted her to want that, too.
A figure walked into the barn, and Trey recognized Dell from the Gray Trees Clan. He came casually over, stopped in front of them and made a thumbing motion behind him.
“Who’s the woman out front of the house?”
Remembering that he’d asked Dell to come over when he returned from the cattle auction, with the sole purpose of having him identify Gia as the thief, Trey swallowed down a lump of guilt. He noticed something on the air, wispy and musky.
“You didn’t recognize her?”
Dell shrugged. “No. But, ah, she didn’t seem too happy with the guy that she was talking to. Thought I’d better mention it to y’all before I intervened.”
Unease crept up Trey’s spine. “What guy?” Without waiting for an answer, Trey ran out of the barn. Rain was falling in a steady beat as he headed onto the drive that led to the house. He smelled smoke before he saw it. The acrid musk hit his nose full bore, his animal picking up on what he’d been half-ignoring in the barn.
“Xander, Bo!” He bellowed, rounding to the horse barn and feeling the closed front doors. Smoke billowed out from beneath. Inside, Hannah was nickering frantically, followed by the soft, innocent, fear-filled snorts of her new foal. Desperation filled his chest, followed by the icky slick of fear along his skin.
Fire damaged him as an oblivious fourteen year old, hanging out at his friend Devin’s house, the two of them alone. Unsupervised. Trying to smoke, hating it and throwing the cigars down… one rolling under the couch, forgotten as they raced outside, coughing and laughing and getting on their bikes, off to something new. Until they came back half an hour later to find the house mostly engulfed, with Devin’s younger sister still inside.
He’d made it out, barely able to carry the girl after flaming debris had fallen onto his back, catching his shirt on fire. The scars were little compared to the price Devin had paid. With his life.
Now it could be his beloved Hannah and her baby. And if he didn’t hurry, Gia, too.
Trey glanced around, noticing unfamiliar SUV tracks in the wet drive leading to the barn. Pressing his palms to the doors, he tried to gauge how close on the inside the fire might be. The wood was warm but not uncomfortable. Knowing he could cause a flash fire by opening the doors, he stood slightly behind the right door and pulled it wide, using it as a shield against any flames that might come out.
Covering his nose and mouth with his hand, Trey edged his way inside. Flames were creeping up the back and sidewalls, making their way to the haymow above. Black smoke filled the hollow spaces, seeping into his nose and scooping out oxygen until his chest went tight. His legs seemed wooden, sweat wetting his forehead and running down his back. Realizing how slowly he was moving, Trey knew if he stopped, he’d be frozen in fear. This time, he might not escape. The automatic sprinkler system hadn’t turned on, leaving them at the mercy of the fire department to get all the way here in a reasonable time. By then, the place would be ashes.
Hannah neighed frantically, kicking at the stall.
Taking slow, short breaths, Trey made it to Hannah’s stall. His palms were slick, adrenaline kicking through him and revving his heart rate. Mouth dry, he wasn’t even able to reassure Hannah, just reached out and unlocked the stall door. It swung wide. Trey leaned back against the rail, his hands out as if to brace himself from falling.
Get a grip and get to Gia.
Trey faintly heard his name being called through ringing in his ears. Pressure filled his head and slapped a dizzy glaze over his brain. Get control. Get control. He tried to even his breathing, but the smoke seeped in, clogging his throat. Finally, he broke away from the rail and reached for Hannah’s halter. She leaned into his touch, her filly hiding behind Hannah’s legs.
Still unable to speak, Trey pulled Hannah forward. She resisted, her neck stretching long as he encouraged her to move. Glancing at the fire, he knew it wouldn’t be long until the haymow went up in flames.
“Trey!” Xander and Bo appeared through the smoke, both of them rushing forward to grab Hannah’s halter.
“Go!” Bo coughed and covered his mouth with his arm. “Go find Gia.”
His mind a storm of thoughts, Trey left Hannah to his brother’s care and rushed up the drive. Leaning into his senses, he focused his hearing for any small sound that might lead him to Gia. He tasted the air, sharpened his vision as he approached the house.
Her vehicle was still parked out front, both the front doors slung wide open. He tasted exhaust lingering on the air current. Beside her SUV, deep tracks in the dirt suggested someone had taken off in a hurry. The flurry of footmarks near her driver’s door created a story Trey pieced together. She’d been dragged out of the car, had fought him, twisted
and turned, but his boot prints remained solidly outlined and imprinted, suggesting he used his height and strength to absorb her struggle.
And then he’d dragged her into his vehicle and sped off.
Trey called 911, quickly relaying information on the fire and Gia’s abduction. Out here, there was no telling how fast either resource would reach them. There wasn’t a shifter here that was afraid to take matters into his own hands.
Just about to rush inside for his truck keys, Trey heard it on the air. Close.
Gia’s scream.
Mack pulled her hair, wrapped it around his hand and drawing Gia in like a fish on a line. She clawed at his wrists, trying to kick, but the painful twist on her scalp was all consuming. He’d just shown up, in broad daylight, apparently not a lick hesitant about tromping through shifter land with harmful intentions. It had taken her a moment to recognize him, having only seen him once at the mixer. As soon as clarity clicked in, fear had started. He’d threatened to come, and he really did. Their spot in front of the house wasn’t clearly visible from the rest of the ranch, creating obscurity that gave him the perfect opportunity to approach her.
He knew it. And she knew it, too, the moment she saw wicked intent in his eyes.
A truck drove slowly past on the side road leading right to the barn, giving her hope that it would divert and come to the house. No luck. She’d wanted to scream out for Trey, for anyone, but Mack had been on her too fast. Grabbing her arm as she tried to toss her bag into the passenger seat.
She hadn’t stopped flailing or punching at him as he sped off, finally hitting him in the side of the face and making him veer off the road. The Tahoe went nose-down into the slight ditch, giving Gia the chance to open her door and bolt. But Mack had been faster, grabbing her hair and pulling her backwards. They were pelted with rain, the cold going bone-deep.
She got off one anger-fueled scream before he clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Such a bad, girl, Gia. So, so bad.”
His chest rose and fell hard behind her, the heat from his palm over her lips making her want to gag. Pulling her back to the vehicle, Mack leaned over her shoulder and whispered in her ear. “You’re not going to scream again, understand?” There was nothing in his voice to make her doubt the question was really a threat. She nodded slowly, looking sideways down the drive for any sign that someone was coming. He almost rippled with tension, in a hurry to get her out of here before the bears came.
