by Rhian Cahill
“We need to get him inside. Brogan, can you go in and get the spinal board? It’s in the first exam room.”
“Sure, did you check Steve?”
“Yeah, just bruising, the airbag saved him from serious injury.”
“And the other driver?” Brogan asked.
Gordie shook her head.
“Another stray?”
“No. William and Steve are getting the area cleared so we can remove him from the truck and get him into the clinic as quickly as possible. As soon as we get Quinn inside I can deal with the other problem.”
Rowan turned to see the crowd gathered on the street. A number of them pointed at the crashed vehicles and the dead driver. Steve removed a rug from the back of his SUV and used it to cover the body. Recognition struck her and she sucked in a breath.
“Malcolm Connelly.”
“What?” Brogan asked.
“The driver. It’s Malcolm Connelly.”
“It can’t be. He’s been dead for years.”
“Brogan, go get the spine board. We need to get Quinn inside and Connelly out of sight before anyone else works out who the dead man is.” Gordie felt down each of Quinn’s legs without moving him. She looked up at Brogan who stood there with his mouth open. “Go.”
Brogan spun and sprinted to the clinic. He returned in no time, the board under one arm. He placed it on the ground next to Quinn before going to talk to William. Steve came to help Gordie get Quinn ready. He stirred when they wrapped the collar around his neck to immobilize his head but he didn’t come around until they lifted him.
“Fuck.” The curse came out strained.
“Easy, big guy,” Steve said.
“Don’t call me names, shrimp.”
Relief filled her. Quinn’s injuries couldn’t be too serious if he could joke with Steve. The three of them rolled him onto the spine board and Gordie secured the straps.
“I don’t need this stupid thing.” Quinn tugged on the bindings. “I took a bump to the shoulder, that’s all.”
“Then why were you out cold for so long?” Gordie asked.
“Sleeping on the job, big guy?” Steve pulled the straps tighter.
“Hey, not so tight, I’m not going anywhere.”
Gordie reached for Rowan’s hands and began picking out some of the larger pieces of glass. Blood welled up to bead on her skin and each tug was followed by a mild sting. Rowan breathed deep and tried not to focus on what Gordie was doing.
“I’ll need tweezers for the rest.” Gordie turned to Steve. “And you’ll let me look at you when I’ve seen to Quinn and Rowan.”
“Sure, Doc, you can touch me all you want.” He grinned in an exaggerated leer.
Gordie gave him a dirty look and got to her feet. Steve watched her walk away, naked yearning in his eyes. Rowan didn’t know what was going on between them and wouldn’t ask but she’d have to remember to question Quinn later.
“Ready to go?” Brogan stepped over, Gordie and William close behind him.
“What’s going on over there?” Quinn asked.
“Nothing you can help with at the moment.” Brogan gripped one side of the stretcher while Steve grabbed the other. “Let’s get you inside and I’ll tell you everything you missed.”
“I can walk, you know. I’m not an invalid,” Quinn grumbled.
“Just lie there and behave. I’m getting tired of seeing you on the wrong end of trouble, Quinn MacClellan,” Rowan said.
“Yeah, listen to your mate or we might drop you on your head,” Steve said. “Oh wait. You did get dropped on your head.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
Rowan laughed at Quinn. He looked hilarious strapped to the stretcher with the sullen look on his face. The banter between him and Steve had dissolved most of her tension. As soon as Gordie told her Quinn was fine, the rest of her anxiety would be gone too.
Quinn let Doc poke and prod and he allowed her to take x-rays, all the time keeping quiet. He knew what she’d find. His head was hard as rock and there was no permanent damage from the whack it took. The other injuries were minor as well. He jarred his shoulder and landed on his already bruised ribs but with Rowan hovering over him every step of the way he let Doc do what she had to.
He refused the painkillers she offered. The fall had made his mind fuzzy enough. His shoulder would be stiff and sore, but already his ribs felt better. By morning he’d be good as new. Nothing beat coyote genes when it came to healing. Finally finished, they made their way to the room where Brogan, Steve and William waited with the corpse of the madman who’d tried to run him down. He needed to thank Steve for stopping the second attempt on his life.
Quinn walked into the room and stopped dead.
“Fuck. Is that who I think it is?” Had the bump on his head damaged his vision?
“Yes. Malcolm Connelly,” Brogan said.
“Shit. I thought he was dead.”
“So did the rest of us,” William added.
“Christ. Dead man walking.”
“We’re trying to piece things together. But I think we’ve found our mystery turner of humans,” Brogan said.
“I’ll need to match the DNA samples but it’s likely you’re right.” Doc went to the sink, scrubbed her hands and snapped on a pair of latex gloves.
“Where the hell has he been all these years?” Quinn didn’t think anyone would be able to answer but he asked anyway.
“Maybe Marcus can help us out with the answer to that.” Rowan stepped up beside him. “Why did you all think he was dead?”
Quinn looked at Brogan. There were so many things Rowan had yet to learn and he wasn’t sure what Brogan wanted her to know. The fighting between pack members had lasted for years. When Brogan won the fight against Malcolm and the older man had fallen into the Canyon, everyone had assumed he’d died. Odds were Marcus not only knew his father was alive, but he’d been harboring him all these years.
“There’s a lot you need to know but now isn’t the time or the place. Any objections to me taking Quinn and Rowan home now, Doc?”
“No, but keep an eye on Quinn. I didn’t see any hemorrhaging on the scan but you can never be too careful.”
“I’ll be fine. Let’s go before the storm hits full force.”
“There’s not much we can do with the storm coming. Best if everyone gets home safe and sound and we’ll meet as soon as the weather allows,” William said.
“William, I want the council informed of Malcolm’s sudden appearance and I want it made clear that Marcus is a threat until proven otherwise.”
“I’ll go ring them now. Not sure it’ll get us what we want but at least he’ll be watched more closely now.”
“I’ll stay and help Doc clean up and secure the body. You guys get on home,” Steve offered.
“Thanks, Steve. If you hear anything on the gossip line, let me know.” Brogan fished his keys from his pocket.
Quinn slid his arm around Rowan. “We’ll see you both later.”
“I’ll keep you up to date as the results come in.”
“See ya,” Steve helped Doc put Malcolm’s body in the special cooler.
“I’ll ring you later and arrange to catch up, Gordie,” Rowan said as they left the room.
They made their way to the back door. Quinn checked that the lock engaged when he closed it behind them. Brogan had the truck running and the heater at full blast. He ushered Rowan in first and she slid across the bench seat to make room for him. The door slammed, shutting out the cold and cocooning them in a bubble of warmth.
Storm clouds darkened the day long before sunset and the small amount of snow on the ground made the drive home treacherous. Brogan took extra care as he weaved his way along the mountain road. By the time they reached the house, the wind had picked up. Leaves and branches were flying around the yard—it made the dash to the front door like a game of dodge ball. The sky opened up the second they got inside.
Rowan removed her jacket and boots but he stopped her
before she could open the closet doors. They still hadn’t tidied up after the last time she used it and there was no way he was opening it up tonight. He didn’t have the energy to clean out the junk, all he wanted to do was crawl into bed and hold her. It had been a long day and he was more than ready for it to be over.
“We’ll put our stuff by the fire to dry. I’m not risking the exploding closet again today.”
“I’ll be in my office. I want to make sure William made those phone calls to the council. I’ll see you two in the morning.” Brogan strode down the hall and out of sight.
“Night.” Rowan handed him her bundled jacket and boots. “I’m having a shower and falling into bed.”
The protest on Quinn’s tongue stopped when he noticed the dark circles under her eyes were back. He bent and kissed her forehead before walking into the living room to stoke the fire and lay out their gear. Rowan’s sock-covered feet made no sound going up the stairs but he knew where she was by every creak of timber. Dumping the clothes on the floor by the hearth, he pulled off his boots and went to grab a couple of logs from the wood box in the corner.
It didn’t take him long to get a roaring fire going and their jackets and boots spread out in front of it. He stood for a moment staring into the dancing flames, his mind on the last few days. How could so much have happen in less than a week? Pipes groaned overhead and he was reminded of the best part of the recent events. Rowan. He could picture her as she stepped into the shower. The water would stream over her shoulders and cascade down her lithe body until every naked inch of her glistened.
His cock hardened and pressed against the fly of his jeans. The denim cupped his arousal in a tight pleasure-pain grip. Damn. What was he doing downstairs fantasizing when he could be upstairs with the real thing? Quinn turned quickly, the lump on his head pounded but he ignored it. Nothing could distract him from his goal. Rowan, naked and plastered against him. Under him. Over him.
Rowan slid the bar of soap along her arm and coated her skin in a slippery trail of white bubbles. The wounds on the back of her hand had already begun to heal and only the largest ones stung as she cleaned away the grime left behind by the day’s events. She shuddered, the danger of losing Quinn still fresh in her mind. He was safe, the danger still existed but for now they’d escaped and had a direction to go in to neutralize the threat for good.
She didn’t doubt they'd find themselves a target again in the future. Marcus was involved in some way but proving it would be the challenge. Once Gordie determined the connection to the strays they would make their move. The Council would have to look at exiling him from the pack. Until they did, she would be on guard. Expect the unexpected and hope no one else got hurt in a madman’s attempt to gain control.
Behind her the glass door swung open and Quinn stepped in. She looked over her shoulder to find him staring at her ass. A little wiggle produced a groan from his throat. Smiling, she tilted her hips and thrust her butt toward him. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her back. His cock pressed between her cheeks, cradled in the warm crevice. Rowan’s sex clenched and grew moist with desire.
The water and soap on her body made a lubricant that allowed them to move against each other with ease. She leaned back into his embrace. His hands slid around her ribcage and up to cup her breasts. Talented fingers plucked at hardened nipples, arousing her further. Quinn nibbled along her neck, sharp bites and soft licks, he teased and tormented her. Her hips bucked, dragged his erection across sensitive flesh burning with the need to be taken.
“Can’t wait,” he growled in her ear.
He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, he swirled his tongue and nipped with his teeth. Hands dug into her hips, held her still as he pulled back and drove forward. She arched her back, pushed her pussy higher as the need to feel him imbedded to the hilt sliced into her. The head of his cock probed her opening and her muscles squeezed, tried to pull him in deeper. He rocked slightly, teasing them both with the promise of what was to come.
Urgency filled her. With a frustrated growl, Rowan thrust backward. His length breached her pussy and plunged deep. Stretched around hard flesh, her muscles convulsed, gripping him tight. Quinn’s hand skimmed along her hipbone and zeroed in on the bundle of nerves vibrating at the top of her slit. One finger circled her clit before dipping into the cream flowing from her channel. Slick with moisture, he brought the digit back to stroke the bud protruding from its hood.
He withdrew from her heat only to plow back in at the same moment he pressed on her clit. Lightning struck. Rowan’s orgasm burst out in white hot pleasure. Her body vibrated as every nerve was lit with pure ecstasy. Quinn drove in and out of her quivering core. With blinding speed, he took her up and over another peak, shattering the last of her control. She bucked against him, his hold the only thing keeping her from collapsing to the ground.
Quinn held her in place, taking what he needed. Time after time, he rammed into her. Their legs slapped together as he continued to ride her. With her hands braced on the wall, she pushed back and tightened her muscles around his cock. He surged forward. Buried to the hilt, he flexed his pelvis and came.
Panting for breath, Rowan wobbled on her feet. Quinn slipped from her body and she slid to the floor at his feet, all energy gone. He turned off the water and opened the shower door. Large hands wrapped around her arms and pulled her up. The towel he wrapped her in was warm and soft and she snuggled into it as he dried her. Tender care and a loving touch had been missing for so long, to experience them again with Quinn was a dream come true.
Emotion swelled. Tears stung her eyes and clogged her throat. Deep breaths couldn’t stop the tide. Droplets leaked to slide down her cheeks. Sniffling, she buried her face in the terrycloth to hide them from Quinn.
“Hey, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” He raised her face to his.
She smiled through watery eyes. “No. It’s just so good to finally be home.”
Epilogue
“So you’re telling us there’s no way to prove Marcus was involved in anything that his father did?” Brogan’s voice rang with frustration.
“I can prove without doubt that Malcolm Connelly turned the strays we’ve found in recent weeks. I can’t give you anything on Marcus,” Gordie’s words sounded like an apology.
“Damn.”
“And we have no evidence that he was involved in the cutting of Quinn’s brake cable either.” Rowan’s heart sank. “With what we’ve learned about Malcolm it would be reasonable to assume he was responsible for that too.”
Growls emanated from all three men in the room. Steve and Gordie had arrived ten minutes ago with news none of them wanted to hear. The council would be happy to pin all on the senior Connelly, and they’d be right to do so. It pissed her off to know Marcus would get away with what he’d done. She knew he’d been involved.
“So now what?” Steve asked.
“We watch him. He’s bound to lay low for a while but we need to keep our eyes and ears open.” Brogan stood. “I’ll go ring William and let him know what you found, Doc.”
Quiet descended after Brogan left. No one wanted to see Marcus get off scot-free but for now their hands were tied.
“Don’t worry. He’s bound to slip up sooner or later and when he does we’ll be there to catch him,” Quinn vowed.
The End
About the Author
Years of slavery to four young aliens and their sire failed to squash the love of writing or reading hiding behind the façade of a boring, stay-at-home mum. Escaping from the mother ship with vivid imagination intact, Rhian uses her superpowers for good.
Okay, so that’s not quite how it happened. Married to her very own hero for over 20 years and raising a family of four kept writing on the back burner, but now with more time to spend on the things that she loves most, Mr. Muse and Rhian have taken over.
Writing multiple genres keeps life interesting and busy. Rhian can be found in numerous places online, where her love of talking is well satis
fied. An Aussie who’s spent years living overseas, Rhian and family are now happy residing back in their native land down under.
The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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