by Angela White
Marc thought of the times that Chad had hinted Marc should take care of Julia in every way if anything happened, but the guilt was still there. I loved on her until we both got a release. That’s not a bad thing, Marc reprimanded himself silently. Chad’s been gone for years. He doesn’t mind.
“I’m sorry.” Julia had come to the ladder, feeling the wall slam down between them.
Refusing to let the moment be ruined, Marc responded, “You have the biggest titties I’ve ever played with.”
Her surprised laughter filled the barn, making Marc wince. Julia liked her men to talk dirty to her. Marc didn’t mind that, but he’d spotted the wolf. Upon the loud noise, the animal had darted back into the shadows.
“You okay down there?”
Marc settled into the seat of the jeep, lighting a smoke. “Still glowin’. You?”
“A little lonely, but I suspect that won’t change. I’m going to the house.”
“I’ll be over in a bit.”
“You know the way.”
“I know several,” he joked.
Marc was glad for the silence after she slid down the pole from the loft and disappeared through the office door. She latched it, exited through the rear office.
Alone at last, Marc thought.
The afternoon slid into early evening while Marc waited for a first contact. He knew from experience that lone wolves didn’t usually attack unless provoked, but he also knew that it didn’t take much to provoke them.
The barn creaked and swayed with the wind, sending the smell of hay and sawdust through the air. There was another odor here, as well. Marc identified it as abandonment. This barn had been used for storage the last time he was here. People had come and gone daily through those wide double doors. Marc wondered what had happened to make Julia change things. She was a stickler for a regular routine, another reason he liked spending time with her.
Marc heard lapping and leaned back for a brief moment to rest his muscles. When the noise stopped, he shifted into alertness. Waiting for the soft crunching of food, Marc was unprepared for the crash as a stack of boards was knocked over.
Marc twitched again as something else fell. It sounded like a different stack of boards. He pinpointed the wolf by it. The logs were between the water and the food.
A crunch echoed, telling Marc the wolf was eating. Ripping came next, making Marc frown. Was he tearing something up?
Marc started to go find out and then stopped as he realized the wolf was trying to draw prey into his new territory. “Clever.”
Another crash echoed, this one larger.
“Barrels,” Marc murmured. So far, it was all easy to fix.
He waited patiently as the wolf circled the barn around him, knocking things over and pawing at the dirt. Marc assumed the animal was throwing challenges, but he knew better than to accept. He needed the wolf to come to him.
Marc patted the sweaty cooler on the front seat. Deepening shadows told him the sun was sinking. He didn’t want to do things the hard way, but he had to be back at the base in a week and he couldn’t let the wolf go here. They had to make friends and fast.
Marc heard the pad of determined paws and prepared himself for the struggle. Adrenaline pumped through his system, heart thumping as cool nerves settled in. Icy enough to shiver, Marc waited for the leap, hoping he timed it right.
The wolf landed on him an instant later, jaws snapping at his neck.
Marc slammed his skull into the wolf’s tender nose, drawing a shocked yelp, and quickly wrapped his legs and arms around the hot, heavy body to keep it from fleeing.
Marc ducked the wild snaps and smashed the wolf against the seat to get a free hand. He grabbed at the ready meat in the cooler, shoving the bloody deer steak against the wolf’s mouth.
The wolf snapped at it automatically. At the first taste, the wolf stopped fighting to consume the meat greedily.
Marc kept the food coming, glad he’d insisted on saving a chunk from the team who’d been craving deer and begged him to hunt.
The wolf kept eating, whining and whimpering at the feel of the man on top of him. Hunger was a powerful deterrent and meals like this one were rare, even for a predator that ran in a pack.
Marc dropped the last thick piece toward those snapping, snarling jaws, then let go and leapt out of the jeep. He strode to the barn doors as the wolf finished the food and began rooting around in the cooler.
“I’ll be back in the morning,” Marc called over a shoulder, proud of himself.
There was no warning. Marc was suddenly hit from behind, slamming into the doorframe. His face broke his fall.
Marc slid to his knees, dazed. Mistake!
The wolf lunged forward, meaning to tear out his throat, and Marc swung in defense–hard.
The wolf was driven backwards, howling in agony. It staggered to the ground and stayed there, obviously feeling nothing but pain.
“Exactly,” Marc declared, slowly standing up. “Bad wolfie!”
The wolf kept braying long enough for Marc to become concerned, but he wasn’t about to tend the animal. He still had too many stars across his vision.
The noises faded to whines and whimpers as Marc felt his head. He came away with bloody fingers. “Brought down by my own wolf. The guys will shit themselves over this.”
The wolf didn’t run as Marc staggered by him, but he tried to snarl. It became a whine.
Marc nodded, and immediately regretted it as pain flipped his guts again. “That’s what we both get. You for being an ass, and me for thinking I had you under control.”
The wolf padded behind him and Marc dizzily spun around, expression like thunder. “Go lay down!”
To Marc’s shock, the wolf glowered resentfully and then slunk off with its tail between its legs.
It took a few seconds to make the connection. He’d taken the wolf’s freedom and become the leader of his pack by winning the physical fight.
“Round one, anyway,” Marc grumbled, certain there would be more. He scowled. “You don’t even have a name and you’ve already made me bleed. I usually get to slide between a soft pair of legs after that happens.”
Marc was reminded of Julia. He twisted toward the office. “Stay, doggie.”
The wolf growled from a dark corner.
Laughing, Marc hurried through the door, quickly latching it. He preferred one head injury at a time.
Marc scanned the property as he came from the barn, spotting three of Julia’s longtime employees. Rusty and his two pals were dark, lean, and built, but they weren’t military. Marc assumed they took care of Julia’s needs when none of her service friends could come around, but she had made it clear that she preferred men in uniform.
Marc noticed the resentful expressions and grinned a bit despite his aches. He rattled his dog tag as he strode toward the door, leaving them to mutter and flash obscene gestures.
Marc let himself in, latching the door. Julia’s home was lovely. Wooden walls and floors covered in a high shine of tender care was what he had come to expect. Walking through dust where other prints were visible came as a surprise. Since when did Julia let the housekeepers slack off? The main ranch house held twenty rooms. Julia and Chad had built it with the money she’d gotten from a lawsuit. Marc didn’t remember what the case had been about, but the cash from it had allowed the newly married couple to build a home of their dreams. Chad and Julia had been happy here, and after his death, she’d still been content.
Something changed, Marc observed. Something feels different.
Before he made it through the long hallway to the dining room, Julia appeared in the doorway to his left. When she beckoned him in without speaking, Marc didn’t refuse.
3
“I’m in trouble, Brady.”
He had paused in the dining room doorway, more than a little shocked. This entire side of the house used to be covered in plants. There had been so many of them that he’d often felt as if he was outside. It had been great.
“I assumed
that as soon as I saw this room,” Marc replied, missing the jungle-like décor that had once filled the room. Julia’s plants and pets were her life. “What’s going on?”
“One of…Chad’s buddies turned up last year,” Julia told him, staying by the door as Marc walked to the sparse table. “He said he was Chad’s best friend. He said they’d been doing rogue ops together, that Chad had left a debt.”
“Rogue ops?” Marc questioned, sitting down to a thin stew that smelled better than it looked. Julia had cooked this, not her chef. Marc frowned. No chef. “I’ve never heard that term.” He had, of course, but he needed to discover how much Julia knew about Chad’s shadier activities. There had been a few. One, Marc had refused to be a part of right after they’d become teammates, but he hadn’t been hurting for money the way the married men were. He didn’t have a home or family.
Angie.
Marc tore his thoughts from that relentless ghost and focused on Julia, who was informing him about the last year here.
“Chad owed him money, so he said he would take care of me until it was paid back.” Julia’s cheeks squashed up in confusion. “I thought you were taking care of me.”
“So did I,” Marc answered stiffly. “You didn’t tell me that you were having trouble. Not one call.”
“I wasn’t, until the lawyers came,” she muttered. Realizing she needed to start from the beginning, Julia sighed. “Chad’s policy didn’t cover much more than the funeral. I still had to cover the mortgage on the ranch and keep the staff here paid. I took out a loan.”
“And when it defaulted, you started selling everything?” Marc guessed.
“I sold it all before it defaulted, but the payment didn’t make it to the bank.”
“Stolen?”
“Missing,” she informed him. “Chad’s buddy said he would take care of it, but until he finds the thief, he wants me to live with him. I said no, so he shot my dog!”
Marc scowled, noting that she hadn’t joined him at the table. “I can hear the lies, Julia. What the hell is going on?”
Julia’s flinched as if he’d hit her.
Marc scanned his late friend’s wife. Bitten fingernails, pale, thinner. “Tell me about the rogue work.”
“The guy says he and Chad made deliveries for cartel clients,” Julia whispered brokenly. “They were running drugs or guns or something, and Chad helped them!”
She dissolved in tears, sliding into the chair by the door.
Marc let her cry, trying to spot the lies. The problem was, so far he couldn’t. Only her evasive tone was wrong. Chad had done freelance work for the cartels, and Marc had noticed the marker by the barn. He just hadn’t realized it was her yapping little puppy’s grave. “When do I get to meet this buddy?”
Julia flinched again. “He said he’d be back in two weeks, that I’d better be packed and ready to go.”
Marc spent a few minutes eating while Julia got her emotions under control. When he was finished, he slowly stood up. “I don’t believe you.”
Julia nodded, voice subdued. “I know. I feel it.”
“Want to change your story?”
Julia didn’t meet his eye. “You’ll see.”
She left the room without another word, going toward her bedroom.
Marc didn’t ask if he was invited. He would mull it all over and try to decide on a plan of action. That was almost impossible to do until he’d met this mysterious friend. Marc had made a point of talking to every person at the funeral, hoping there was someone who could care for Julia in his place, but there hadn’t been. She was great for a weekend away, but Marc hadn’t wanted her to get the idea that he was Chad’s replacement. She never had though, and they’d enjoyed some wonderful moments together, enough of them that Marc knew her too well for this scared, hopeless act to work. Julia was hell on wheels most days. It was part of why the sex was so hot.
Marc ran a hand through short, black spikes, sighing unhappily. He should have come back sooner to check on her. He’d let himself believe the letters she’d always answered, because deep down he’d feared creating a bond with her.
Always a polite guest, Marc took his dishes to the dusty kitchen, giving them a fast rinse. As he scanned the wine bottles in the garbage can and the rest of the neglected kitchen that had once bustled with a cook and two helpers, Marc felt as if he were being watched. It wasn’t comforting that it didn’t feel like Julia.
Marc retrieved his kit, slinging it over a shoulder as he headed for the barn. He already felt as if he was too close to this situation to comprehend what was really happening. Once he had a theory, he would try to get ready for the confrontation with this friend. He expected that to be a wash, but he didn’t have two weeks to wait and find out if the person showed up. He had to be on base in seven days. He would have to account for time.
Marc stepped into the barn and quickly fastened the door, peering around. He didn’t see the wolf, but that didn’t mean the animal wasn’t waiting for another chance to attack or run.
Fed, satisfied, and sore, Marc climbed to the loft. He put his bedroll by the edge so that he could watch the wolf, but sleep came before he pinpointed the animal in the darkness. If not for the heavy panting from a far corner, he would have wondered if the wolf had escaped. Exhausted, Marc slept.
Below him, the wolf finally settled down in a corner to do the same. He hadn’t been positive that the man was coming back and it had scared him more than traveling in the big box.
Confused, sore, and scared, the wolf laid his head down. Humans suck.
Chapter Five
September 8th
1
Marc’s first clue that something was wrong came as the sun lightened the dusty barn. Creaking boards said he wasn’t alone in the loft.
Marc opened one bleary lid to peer around. He spotted a furry leg and understood that the wolf had climbed the ladder.
That’s not possible! his groggy mind insisted. Figure it out later, Marc ordered. Go!
The wolf lunged forward, almost falling as Marc rolled toward the middle of the loft. His paws scrambled back from the edge as he yelped in terror.
Marc also backed up, trying to snap into alertness to handle the animal. Becoming an instant Marine only happened in battle. Once that coolness fell off, he was like any other person who didn’t care for morning awakenings that lacked coffee and quiet.
Furious about his captivity, the wolf leapt again, snarling.
Marc chose to duck the leaps and snaps. Despite needing the animal to know who was boss, Marc also didn’t punch the angry wolf. Instead, he taunted it to release his own displeasure at the situation. “Come on, doggy! That all you got?”
Marc tried to be careful, timing his ducks and rolls, but twice he was scratched by intent claws searching for his skin. He was also slobbered on and covered in fur as the wolf used up his energy in the futile effort. Because he was defending, Marc wasn’t out of breath until the end. The wolf however, was panting and whimpering even as he jumped again.
Sensing his moment, Marc spun away a last time and waited for the wolf to land to make eye contact. “No more. Done!”
Marc growled lightly, baring his teeth in hopes that the communication would be successful.
Steeling himself, Marc waited for the wolf to inch forward again and shouted, “No!”
Not expecting the loud noise, the wolf flinched back, teeth coming out.
Marc pointed toward a corner. “Go!” He didn’t think the animal would obey.
The wolf didn’t, but he did stop jumping, staring in confusion while he panted.
Marc calmly retrieved his kit. He hadn’t planned on them being stuck in the loft together, but it would force the wolf to accept him quicker.
Paws padded after him, but Marc didn’t feel the intent to jump. He took a fast glance, and found the wolf a few feet away, staring mistrustfully.
“Good boy.”
The wolf snarled hatefully in response.
2
> There was no food or water in the loft and the wolf clearly knew it. The whining from the corner steadily increased over the morning until Marc began humming to drown it out. As he cleaned up and ate from his kit, he tossed scraps that were ignored.
After using the loft window, Marc studied the ranch through early morning drizzle. Very few employees came into view over the next hours. He saw none of the normal labor that was required on a ranch this size.
“No cook, no maid, no moo,” Marc murmured. He hadn’t seen one head of cattle the entire time he’d been here. Also, no flower garden, no fields of corn, and no rescued animals getting in the way of workers. The ranch was shut down. When had that happened?
3
Julia gently closed the door after slipping into the dusty room where no one went anymore. During her marriage to Chad, she’d longed for a baby, but one had never come.
Julia trailed a hand along the crib that hadn’t been used. She dropped carefully into the fragile rocker that she’d purchased for night nursing. A baby was all she’d wanted.
Julia felt tears slid down her cheeks, and didn’t try to stop them. She’d known Chad most of her life. They both had police parents. Or at least, they had. Her mother and father had been killed in a car accident. Chad’s parents had been lost to war when he was a child. They’d only had each other, and it hadn’t been nearly enough for her.
Julia listened to the men carrying out the last of her valuables to be sold off in hopes of raising the bank money a second time. She wasn’t sure it would be enough, but she doubted the cash would make it to where it was supposed to go. She needed help if she wanted to salvage her life.
Julia glanced around the deserted room, face damp. So much had changed since Chad’s funeral. She’d been hit with so many surprises that she was dazed, but through it all, her one true desire hadn’t faded. She was meant to be a mother.
Julia wiped at her face as a wave of determination settled onto her shoulders. She hadn’t given up yet. Marc was here. He would help her and things would get better. They had to. Life couldn’t get any worse for her right now unless she died.
