by Lauren Dawes
He moved his face closer until she felt his hot breath on her cheek. ‘I like spirit,’ he whispered before kissing her roughly on the mouth. She bit him on the lip, drawing blood. She spat in his face again and took the opportunity that she’d just created as he took a step away from her.
Driving her hand up and forward, she felt the glass slice into his belly. He let out a yelp and backed away from her, his hand going to a spot just left of his belly button. She looked down at the bottle, finding the sharp edge only half an inch long. Realising the gravity of her error, she dived for the dumpster and the knife beneath it.
‘You bitch!’ he hissed, tackling her around the knees as her fingers brushed past the handle of her blade. She landed face first on the ground, putting her hands out in front of her to break the fall. Rocks, broken glass and dirt filled the grazes on her palms, but she could live with that. Wright flipped her over onto her back, unzipping his pants and tearing at hers.
Indi kicked out, landing a blow to his throat. His desperate gasps for air filled the dark alleyway and Indi leaped up. She obviously hadn’t kicked him hard enough because he was also on his feet and trying to drive her into the wall again. His hands were all over her body as he tried to finish getting her pants off. She struggled to get free, but as soon as he pinned her arms above her head, she knew she was a little more than screwed.
His breath was hot on her skin as he nuzzled into her neck and collarbone.
‘Let me go,’ she hissed, jerking her body around so that he couldn’t get one solid grip.
He pulled away to look at her face. ‘That’s right, fight it,’ he all but growled. He inhaled deeply. ‘I can smell your fear.’ She fought both her revulsion and her natural instincts by going completely still. She knew her eyes would have been distant, disassociated. This was exactly what she wanted to happen. She let him feel the full weight of her body as he held her by the wrists, giving him the appearance of submission. He relaxed his grip and lowered her arms.
She drove her knee up into his groin hard. Wright crumpled onto himself, his knees hitting the cold hard concrete beneath with a sickening thud. Indi shuffled sideways away from his thrashing body, never taking her eyes off his murderous glare. When she got to the dumpster, she slid to her knees and then her stomach to retrieve her knife. When her fingers wrapped around the handle, she stood up again and walked back over to the still-writhing form on the ground. Crouching down an arm’s length away from him, she tapped the end of the knife on the ground. He looked up at her with daggers in his eyes all for her.
‘Now listen up asshole. I’m going to take what you owe me.’
He spat out blood before he spoke. ‘And what’s that?’
She pointed the tip of her knife at his one showing hand. ‘I’m taking one of those. You touched me again. Now I take a hand.’
‘You wouldn’t dare,’ he growled.
She smiled, knowing how sadistic it looked. ‘You want to bet? Like I said, I never make a promise I don’t keep.’ She stood up and kicked him in the face. She landed the kick just where she wanted to—in the temple. Wright passed out half a second later. She could do without the screaming while she followed through on her threat.
Indi walked from the alleyway covered in his blood. She tossed his hand into the dumpster as she left. There was a little blood spatter on the bottom of her white shirt and the knees of her pants were soaked through. But luckily the pants were black, so if anybody did see her, they wouldn’t see the blood while it was still wet. Wright would survive. She’d only taken a hand and it was below freezing at this time of night. The bleeding would be slow until he was warmed up in hospital. Then they’d have to deal with a small geyser. And didn’t that just brighten her day.
Once the foyer’s glass door slammed shut behind her, she let out a shaky breath and felt her knees go weak. She walked up the stairs, concentrating on each and every step but still stumbled every now and again. She would have gripped the handrail if her hands were in any shape to do so, but they were full of gravel and small shards of glass. They hadn’t hurt before, but now that the adrenalin had worn off, she felt every single stone and sliver.
As soon as she slipped inside her apartment, her legs gave out from under her. She slid down the length of the closed door, feeling the prick of tears in her eyes. She didn’t want to cry. She hated to cry. It was only weakness that spawned tears, but once the first tears rolled down her cheeks, she couldn’t stop them. Her body rocked gently with her silent sobs until there was nothing left in her. She was empty once again and the exhaustion that had slowly been creeping over her lulled her into sleep.
Sometime later, Indi’s phone rang. The sound was harsh and jarring after the self-imposed silence. She stood up and retrieved the phone, answering without looking at who was calling.
‘Hello?’
‘Indi?’ Beth asked frantically.
She rubbed her temples. ‘Yeah, Beth. What’s wrong?’
‘Why didn’t you answer your phone before? I’ve been calling every five minutes!’
No wonder she still felt like she’d just been beaten up in an alleyway. She’d only managed a five minute power nap. Beth was still talking while Indi sat quietly in her apartment. Her best friend’s shrieks of outrage were too loud for her eardrums to handle right now.
‘Sorry,’ she replied in a tired voice. She realised if Beth picked up that
she’d been crying she’d want to talk about it and Indi so didn’t want that to happen. ‘What’s up?’ she added in her bubblier I-just-didn’t-get-attacked-by-a-madman tone.
‘I just wanted to make sure you got back okay. You should have been home about twenty minutes ago. Where were you?’ she demanded.
Ah fuck. ‘I was detoured a little, that’s all.’
‘Detoured? Detoured?’ she said the word like it was some kind of expletive. ‘Didn’t you see all the missed calls on your phone?’ Indi looked at the screen, seeing the little icon for missed calls flashing at her. She shrugged then realised Beth couldn’t see her.
‘I forgot to take my phone with me.’
‘Well, next time, don’t forget it. I was so worried.’
‘Beth, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m safe and … well … I’m safe.’ She was going to say ‘sound’, but didn’t think that that would have been the correct word to describe herself.
‘Good. I was worried when you didn’t pick up.’
‘Yeah, well …’
‘I have to go,’ she interrupted. ‘I’ll speak to you soon.’ Indi heard Beth’s
mother calling for her in the background. Beth shouted a reply then hung up.
‘Bye,’ she said into the dead phone.
Indi threw her phone down next to her and stood up. She was still a little shaky, but she managed to stagger to the bathroom without any major incident. She hadn’t really wanted to do what she’d done, but he had backed her into a corner, and she hated wasting a threat. Pulling the first aid kit out from under the sink, she got out the tweezers just stared at the glass and gravel with her palms. She realised how hard it would be to clean her hands. After a few attempts at wielding the tweezers awkwardly, she gave up and called Rhett to come around. He’d seemed surprised when she’d called, but agreed to come around right away. She trusted that Rhett wouldn’t ask questions, and even if he did, he wouldn’t push for answers she wasn’t willing to give.
After she got off the phone, she stripped off her bloody clothes awkwardly and dumped them into a pile behind the bathroom door. She turned on the taps in the shower with her fingertips and tested the temperature. The hot water didn’t feel hot on her skin, but she suspected that was because she was a little shocky. When she was done, she still felt as if she wasn’t actually in her own body, but she pulled on her favourite sweats and curled up on the couch in front of the TV.
‘There has been yet another attack on a woman in Buxton. The victim, aged twenty-two, was on her way home from a night shift early this morning when she was grabbed fr
om behind by a man and pulled into an alleyway in downtown Buxton. ‘This is the fourth attack in two weeks, and the second attack this week alone. This is what a police spokesman had to say just moments ago.’
The picture changed to a policeman standing behind a lectern. Microphones had been placed just under his chin, and the constant flash of cameras danced across his five o’clock shadow. ‘There seems to be no pattern with the rapist, although it appears as if his victims are around the same age and have the same build. This latest victim suffered from some superficial cuts as a result of a knife being used during the attack. Women of Buxton are being asked to be extra vigilant and to never walk alone especially at night.’
‘Now, in other news …’
Indi started wondering whether Wright could have been the rapist, but that didn’t really make much sense. He was a wealthy, influential businessman in Buxton. Why would he risk everything just to force a couple of girls into sex? And anyway, she couldn’t call the police and tell them she suspected Mr Wright of being the rapist. They’d both done things to each other that the cops didn’t need to know about, so they were even as far as she was concerned.
The buzz of her intercom broke her away from her thoughts.
‘What?’
‘It’s me,’ Rhett said, his voice rumbling and soothing even through the mass of wires and metal. She buzzed him in and waited nervously for him to knock on the door. When it finally came, she pulled down on the handle with her fingers and stepped back.
Rhett loomed in the doorway, his head brushing the top of the jamb. She thought he’d be angry at her for calling him so late, but he gave her a once over and nodded, stepping through the door and shutting it behind him. The old memories surfaced for a fleeting second, causing Indi’s heart to pound, but she pushed them away knowing she could trust Rhett.
When she looked into his face, compassion was there. His whole demeanour changed when he was with her. ‘What’s wrong Ind?’
She didn’t want to explain what had happened, so she simply lifted her hands to him—palms up—and shrugged. ‘I can’t get all this stuff out without help. Can you help me?’
‘Of course I can. But what happened to you?’
‘I fell over,’ she lied, not meeting his mismatched stare. She wanted to look anywhere but his face.
‘Where’s the first aid kit?’ he asked.
‘On the coffee table,’ she replied, letting out a shaky breath and sitting down onto the couch—her back on the arm and her legs crossed under her body. Rhett pulled the tweezers out along with a bottle of antiseptic and some cotton pads. Indi watched him carefully, slightly impressed by how okay he was being with this whole situation. When he gestured to her to give him her hand, she offered it to him, relaxing as the warmth of his skin seeped into her still cold body.
There was nothing but the chink, chink, chink sound for a long time as Rhett pulled stones and glass from her hands and dumped them into an empty glass. When each piece was removed, the sting of the cut raced through her body. Indi ignored it knowing she’d been through worse pain in her life.
‘Does it hurt?’ Rhett eventually asked. The tweezers were poised over her index finger; his fingers squeezing her skin to manoeuvre the glass into a better position.
‘No,’ she replied not wavering from his profile this time.
‘Indi?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Why didn’t you call Jerry for this?’ he asked, finally looking up from his work.
She looked away and swallowed the feeling of panic clawing at her chest. ‘He would have asked questions.’
Indi thought he’d press her for more details, but Rhett kept on working until he pulled the last stone from her hand and drowned the tiny cuts and grazes in antiseptic.
‘Do you think I need a tetanus shot?’
Rhett shook his head and sighed. ‘You’re strong. You’ll survive.’
She studied his carefully neutral face and recognised the expression that peeked through when he thought he held it all together: guilt. Jerry had worn that expression for her ever since she told him about her past—about all of her past. ‘I had an accident Rhett. That’s all. It’s nothing to beat yourself up about.’
He looked up at her and smiled, although it didn’t quite reach his blue and green eyes. ‘I know. I’ve just had a rough night.’
‘Shit. I’m sorry. You should have told me if you were busy tonight. I would have managed eventually.’
‘I wasn’t busy Ind. And don’t worry about calling me for anything you need. I’m here for you, okay?’
‘Okay.’
He leaned back into the sofa, still with her hand in his. She didn’t want to pull away from him either. Absently, he started drawing circles with his fingertip on the inside of her wrist. It sent a rush of a thrill through her entire body, but reasoned that it probably because she was still shocky. His gaze was locked with hers and she didn’t look away this time. His mouth parted like he was going to say something, but he shut it and looked away.
‘I should go,’ he said roughly.
‘Okay,’ Indi replied, getting to her feet. ‘Let me see you out.’
‘No. You should rest. I can see myself out.’
But Indi wasn’t going to take no for an answer right then. Rhett had come around to fix her and the least she could do was see him to the door. ‘Shut up Rhett,’ she said, unbolting the door but not opening it yet. She looked up into his face. ‘Thanks for coming. I mean it. I would have done it eventually, but at least this way I know you got all the glass and stones out.’
He shrugged his broad shoulders at her, his eyes fixed on something to the left of her face. His hand cautiously came to her face; his fingers skimming over her skin until he tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear. She smiled at him and his warm hand cupped her neck. She could feel her pulse pounding against his skin, thinking that surely he could feel it too. Indi licked her lips and held his gaze.
Rhett leaned into her, their lips meeting for a tentative second before he deepened the kiss when she didn’t pull away. Licking her bottom lip, he coaxed her to open her mouth for him, tasting her completely. Indi could feel his desire for her buzzing through her entire body, setting her blood on fire. Rhett pressed his body closer to hers, running his hands through her hair at the base of her skull. She was revelling in the feeling when he froze, seemingly realising what he was doing. He pulled away abruptly, causing her to suck in a hissing breath.
‘I’m sorry, Indi. I shouldn’t have—’ he started. ‘I’m sorry.’ Rhett wrenched open the door like he couldn’t get away fast enough from her and slammed it shut behind him. Indi didn’t know what to do. The kiss was electric, but his reaction said that it was absolutely only one way. Her anger bubbled erratically. Barking a curse, she kicked the side of the sofa and collapsed onto it; the words “damaged goods” banging around her skull for good measure.
Chapter 9
Rhett slammed his fist into the wall just outside Indi’s apartment door. He had kissed her—kissed her—when he should have just left. Why did he have to kiss her? He looked longingly at her door before leaving her building and getting into his car. He had no business being her Guardian. He was going to fuck it up for everyone. He decided that once he got home, he would tell his alpha he was not cut out for the job. He just couldn’t do this anymore.
Pushing his Jetta harder and faster than he ever had before, he made it back to the farmhouse in half the time it usually took. He got out of the car and stalked to the front of the house. With the front door shut behind him, he instantly felt the tension that hummed through the old house, stirring the wolf Rhett shared his body with into an agitated state. When he inhaled, he found out why tensions were running so high—wolves from another pack were here.
Pack territories were not decided by states, or countries—rather by continent—except for North America. Too many Weres lived there, so territorial borders were marked by cities—suburbs even. Each territory was l
ike a virgin with a chastity belt on; you needed the key, but it wouldn’t always open her legs. The Helheim pack occupied a territory that split Buxton down the middle. Everything east of the river was Helheim land—including Hell—and everything to the south was the Dragos pack’s land.
Rhett stalked into the living room to find the alpha from the Dragos clan sitting on a dining room chair dragged into the middle of the ancient rug. If his pack was America, then the Dragos pack were Russia during the Cold War. Behind him were his beta and the pack’s captain of the enforcers. The alpha of the Dragos clan was a distant cousin of Rhett’s. He’d only met Marcus a handful of times, but he was one ruthless sonofabitch. He had the same dark hair as Rhett, but it was streaked with white along the sides. The beta, Conall, was an asshole. He’d fought his way up through the ranks, humiliating the challengers once he had taken their lives by defiling their bodies. Wolves didn’t have to kill to assert dominance, but Conall took some sort of sick pleasure in it. The captain, Leona, was the only female enforcer that Rhett knew of, but she was just as ruthless as any male.
‘Rhett,’ his alpha said in a low voice. Rhett’s eyes swung around to find Antain sitting on another dining room chair flanked by Vaile and Sabel. Antain was trying hard to contain his power, but Rhett felt the brushings of pinpricks on his skin.
Rhett swallowed thickly. ‘Uncle, what’s going on?’ Alphas from other packs just didn’t come around for a cup of coffee and a chat.
‘We heard you are the Guardian for the félvair. Is that true?’ Marcus said, drawing Rhett’s attention away from his alpha.
Rhett swallowed the lump in his throat. ‘Yes,’ he replied, keeping his eyes on the ground to stop Marcus from seeing the flash of hatred in his eyes.
