He took his merry time leaving. Even after he was out of her line of sight, Sadie wouldn't turn her back on him until she couldn't hear the rumble of his engine any longer. Fred had limped forward and leaned his weight against her thigh. She rested her hand on his head and they waited in silence till it was safe.
After a breath she looked down. "Shit, Fred." His back leg wouldn't hold any weight. He held it up completely off the ground. Blood was pulsing out of the wound, staining his fur. At 100 pounds there was no way she could carry him inside. He would have to do it himself, and didn't that just suck.
"I need to get you inside but you weigh too much."
His ever intelligent eyes understood and slowly, painfully, they made their way to the house. Sadie made a pallet on the floor for him of quilts and helped him lie down. His breathing was strained and she could see the pain in his stiff muscles. Her cell phone offered her the number of the local vet after a quick search on-line.
It rang only once before a man picked up. "I have an emergency. My uh...dog was shot."
"Where?" he asked with a no nonsense, get straight to the point attitude.
"Back left leg. It's bleeding badly."
"What's your address?"
Chapter Eight
Fred had woken at the knock at the door. He lifted his head from the quilt and tried to offer up a growl but it came out more like a wheeze. She scolded him when he tried to get up. It was his own damn fault when his leg gave out and he fell back onto the quilts. At the door was a man only a few years older than her twenty eight years, standing with a backpack slung over his shoulder. He was tall, massively broad and deadly in all the right ways. He should have frightened her with his size, any normal person would have had even a moment of fear, but her mind was only on Fred.
"Ms. James? We talked on the phone. I'm Dr. Purcell."
She opened the door further and let him in. "He's right over-"
"That's not a dog," the vet interrupted with a laughed. "What have you gotten yourself into now?"
Dr. Purcell was shaking his head with a smile on his lips. Sadie closed the door feeling like she missed a chapter somewhere along the way. "You know him?"
"We have a history."
Fred made noise that wasn't quite a sigh and not quite a grunt. She wasn't sure if that was because of the pain or because of the vet. The man was already kneeling beside him, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and probing the area around the bullet wound. She sat across from him at Fred's back and ran a soothing hand down his neck. The doctor had stopped his exam to watch her scrunch Fred's ears the way he liked.
"What?" she asked when he didn't begin again.
"Nothing. Just surprised is all. I've never seen him let someone touch him like that."
She stilled and removed her hand. Had she been doing something wrong? Sadie may not have been well versed in pet ownership but she was pretty sure there wasn't a specific way to rub a dogs ears. Fred barked. Quick and loud. He lifted his head, craning it back to look at her. He wasn't happy that she had stopped and didn't lay back down until she put her hands back on him.
"Have it bad, don't ya boy?" Dr. Purcell teased. "Alright, I'm going to need to take the bullet out. I’ll give him a local anesthetic and then get started. It will be quick. Why don't you move around to his head and talk to him. Pet him some more. He'll stay calmer with you there."
Sadie hesitated. At his back she felt safe but up towards his head seemed a bit too close to those pointy teeth of his. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, but he was in pain and wounded animals tended to be more unpredictable.
Of course, Dr. Purcell caught her hesitation. "Did he hurt you?" His eyes had narrowed, not at her, but at the wolf.
"No! It's um...he...it was an accident. I'm just not thinking correctly. Overload, you know?" She crawled up to his head. His sad eyes found hers and she was done for, there was no way she would be able to keep her hands off of him. Fred nuzzled her hand and licked her palm. "Stop that. You were forgiven, remember?"
"He should be getting drowsy. Let me know when he's out."
"Ok." Sadie stroked over his face. His eyes didn't want to close. He forced them open for as long as he could but eventually the drug took hold and he slid under. Dr. Purcell got to work. In minutes he had the bullet out of Fred's thigh and was stitching up the hole.
"Do you have a bag that I can put all of this in?" he asked motioning to all the bloody rags beside Fred's leg. Sadie nodded. She had only taken two steps when Fred began to growl and seize. Her heart froze. She froze. What had happened? He was doing so well. The wolf kicked, and growled, and shook, but he was still unconscious. There was no fear this time as she sat back down. Sadie lowered her head to his and gently rested them together while she whispered to him that it was ok, she wasn't going anywhere. Fred calmed almost instantly. A soft rapping on the floor made her raise her head to peer down his body. His tail was wagging.
"He's all set." Dr. Purcell said a moment later. "Mind if I wash up?"
"Not at all."
Since the kitchen was right in front of them she didn't bother with directions. He washed his hands and the little equipment he had. When he collected all of his things and set the bag by the door, he came back over to them and sat back on the floor.
"Dr. Purcell-"
"Please, call me Owen," his deep voice insisted.
Now that Fred was patched up and sleeping, she could appreciate the vet's good looks. The blue-gray of his button down shirt was ruined with spots of rusty blood. That didn't take away from the fact that the shirt fit him like rum does coke. His skin was tanned from his Native American heritage and the eyes that caught everything were almost as dark as his hair. A glint of something silver caught her eye. It was a thick belt buckle that had her smirking at his crotch. A batman belt buckle.
Owen cleared his throat with a chuckle. "As much as I like those hazel eyes on me, I think it best if you kept them above the belt."
Sadie flashed a bright red and quickly looked elsewhere. After a long, awkward pause, she said, "Batman?"
"Don't be jealous of my buckle."
"Believe me, I'm not," she laughed and the awkwardness was gone.
"So how do you know him?" There was only one "him" it could have been and Owen knew it.
"I've known this wolf many years. Patched him up a fair share too."
That was vague and not helpful. "Does he have a pack?"
His expression dropped. "He did. The damn canine left his pack."
"Why?" She rubbed a hand over his eyes and down his neck. Why would he leave his family to be alone?
"Can't say for certain. I don't speak wolf."
Sadie looked up and found his eyes full of humor. She didn't understand it and thought it was the wrong time to be joking around, but didn't say anything.
"So who shot him?"
"Huh?" His change in demeanor threw her for a second.
"Let me rephrase. Did you shoot him?"
"What? No! Jack shot him."
Well, that got his attention. Owen's eyes became hard. "This wouldn't be Jack Naughton, would it?"
"The one and only."
He cursed. "Sorry. I'm usually better about my language in front of woman."
"No worries. That man has made me curse a time or two as well." That made him curse again. For some reason that made her smile.
“You wouldn’t be the Lee’s Owen, would you?” She had threatened Jack with an Owen last night. Was this him?
His voice caught in his throat. His brown eyes stared at her with utter shock. “Excuse me?”
“Well…it’s just…Lee mentioned someone named Owen to Jack last night when he was drunk and I didn’t know if that was you.”
“Oh.” She shook his head out of the daze. “Yeah, that’s me. Look, I really need to go. He should be fine but call me if you need anything. When he wakes up he will be hungry so I suggest red meat and lots of it. I left some bandages in your kitchen. He will whine about it but keep him i
nside for at least a day or so." Owen was already to his feet and halfway to the door. Sadie stood but didn't move away from Fred. She had either said the wrong thing or he was more socially awkward than she was.
"Thank you."
His chest deflated an inch. Owen looked at Fred again and he deflated the rest of the way. "My pleasure. Oh and Sadie?”
“Yeah?”
“Don't worry about Jack, I'll take care of him."
*****
Jack pulled a stack of t-shirts from the drawer and set them on the bed next to a duffel bag. A trip to his cabin was in order. After finding Tyson encroaching on his mate, he decided to head into the woods to his one room hunting cabin and begin to prep. He had wanted to charm Sadie and have her voluntarily go with him, however after his actions this morning that certainly was not happening.
She had been pissed when he left. Hell, Tyson had probably killed her already. The wolf was a known asshole when he was injured. Well, he warned her. He tried to save her but for some strange fucking reason she chose to defend that feral mutt. He still had hope that once she was changed, she would see the error of her ways. Sadie would see Tyson for what he was, a pathetic excuse for a wolf.
The cabin still had everything he would need after his last failed attempt to change a mate. Bethany had been short, round, beautiful and so very disappointing. He bit her multiple times a day, all over her body. Nothing happened besides screaming till her voice was horse. The bites had gotten infected and she died two weeks into the experiment.
Hopefully the place had lost the stench of death she left behind. Human death smelled so much more repulsive than that of a rabbit or a deer. Before Bethany, it had been Grace. His little Grace had been just a child of eighteen. She knew what he was. After seeing him change in the woods one day she begged him to make her a werewolf. He had only had one failed attempt previously and thought he knew what he had done wrong. This time he did it in the light of the full moon. Grace died from blood loss.
Only an alpha knew how to make a wolf, and yet, it was still rarely done. Gaia would whisper the secret to an alpha when the time came. She usually only did it in dire circumstances, or so he was told. Jack had never actually seen it happen. For the most part a wolf was born, not made.
That just wasn't ok with him. None of the females in his pack, or the outlying packs, were up to par. They looked at him with suspicion and tended to keep their distance. In his years as a pup, Jack had a temper on him. His father used to tan his hide on a daily basis for his mouth and his actions. Over time, word traveled. No female would have him as a wolf mate. He was too "aggressive" and "unstable." It was bullshit. They were all just too weak to be with him. Jack needed a strong female, one who knew pain and could handle a slap every once in awhile.
Jenny would have been a good mate. He could admit that now that she was dead. At the time he was only dating her to get under Tyson’s skin and get closer to the upper workings of the pack. Canidae needed info that only those closest to the alpha had. Jenny had been a sister to Owen and had been so easy to turn against him. Seeing Tyson kill her was like Christmas morning. Now if he would only go feral for good, then Jack could get on with his life.
He had looked into Sadie and found her police report. He knew she could handle a little push from time to time. In all honesty, he looked forward to pushing her to her limits and then past them.
"Jack!" A thundering voice called from the front of his house followed by an equally as angry pounding. "Jack. Open the door."
When his alpha gave a command, he was compelled to answer it. He didn't try to fight it, not this time. It felt like icy spikes in his chest when he disobeyed. Owen waited at the door fuming in anger. Part of him wanted to let him stew out there. Just because he had to open the door didn't mean he had to let him inside. Jack always looked for a loophole and he always found a way around.
"Yes?"
"You shot Tyson." Not a question. Sadie must have called the town vet. Damn.
"I did."
"Why?"
That pull to answer and obey was like a rope tugging on his words. "He was endangering Sadie."
"That's a lie." Owen tapped his nose telling Jack he could smell it. "Try again."
"It is the truth. He is feral. As enforcer, it is my job to eliminate threats. Tyson Cartwright is a threat."
Owen's eyes narrowed as he gave a sharp humorless laugh. "To who? You? Because I know it isn't that woman. Sadie is bringing him back from whatever edge he was hanging off of. I saw humanity in his eyes today." Owen lost the sharp edge to his voice. Oh Gaia, he hated having a soft alpha. Made his skin crawl. "You will stay away from them. Tyson is healing from more than a gunshot wound. If I hear you have disturbed them again, you will be without a pack."
Jack nodded in understanding but didn't say anything more. Owen took it as an agreement and left. Seemed like with the alpha on his ass he'd have to speed up the time line yet again. Not that he minded really. Having Sadie as his wolf mate sooner rather than later was not a hardship. Jack had planned to use the new moon of the following month allowing him time to prepare. That would be too long now. He might not respect Owen but he was still alpha. The wolf would keep an eye on all three of them until Tyson was whole again. Jack sneered. He was so sure that he had killed Tyson back there. Not right at that moment, but blood loss had no friends.
Had Sadie known Owen previous to this encounter? Was that how she had been so quick to get help? Jack should be furious but he liked how she didn't lose her head in a panic. She would be a wonderful wolf mate.
Friday night under the new moon, she'd be his.
Chapter Nine
Sadie was more prone to nightmares when she was feeling stressed. After Fred was shot and Owen had left, she allowed her exhaustion to pull her into a restless nap. Instead of going to bed, she had curled up on the couch in case he woke up and needed her. However, she ended up being the one who needed him.
Peter was a man who worked at the coffee shop she visited a few times a week. He would smile at her in a polite this-is-my-job kind of way and get her usual order. After three years of visiting the shop, he began to talk to her beyond the normal, "The same thing as always, Miss Sadie?" One morning he had told her the red blouse she wore was a good color on her. Sadie had been flattered. She wasn't swept off her feet but the compliment had given her a good start to the day.
Every week he would pull out a compliment and soon she found her morning coffee run came with a complimentary self confidence boost. When she saw him at the grocery store one night, it took her a moment to place his face. When she did figure it out and gave him nothing more than a passing smile and a quiet "hello," he frowned. The following day she got her coffee with no compliment and no smile.
She didn't care. Hell, she didn't know the guy beyond his name, but he had cared. More than she could ever know. She lived in her own little world, rarely taking notice to those who were not a constant in hers. It was a mistake she would never make again. These days, she watched everyone, looked for exits when visiting a new place, tried to keep her head down and be unnoticeable. Had she paid attention to her surroundings, she would have seen Peter hovering at the edge of them.
She didn't know it until after the fact, but Peter had been following her for months before the compliments even started. He had told his family that they were dating and made excuses as to why she never came around. His apartment was filled with floor to ceiling pictures of her—many of them badly photoshopped pictures of the two of them together. He had a collection of stolen clothing, mostly her underwear and a robe, all of which he had broken into her apartment to acquire. The man had truly thought they were a couple and when she didn't acknowledge him to the extent he had come to expect in his delusional mind, he snapped. Peter stepped from the shadows and openly pursued her. He was there when she walked past her kitchen window at 10 o'clock at night. He was there when she went to lunch at the deli across from her office building. He was even there when she wen
t to visit her mom.
He never did more than stand and been seen, but it creeped her out all the same. Sadie didn't tell anyone one about his appearances until one drunken night with her sister. She was three rum runners into the night and saw Peter in the corner of the bar. "Oh my stalker's here. Say hi." Sadie waved and laughed while her sister looked on horrified. She had seen the man before and knew Sadie wasn't lying when she said "her stalker."
It was her sister, Miranda, who told their mother. It was her mother who pushed her into going to the police. It was the police who confirmed that she did in fact have a stalker. But with no proof other than sightings of Peter and the occasional heavy breathing call, the judge did not grant her a restraining order.
The night he had attacked her she had been caught off guard. She was back in her bubble of a world paying no attention to her surroundings and it almost killed her. He had pushed his way into her home and sat her down to yell at her. Peter called her names like "wife" and "my love." When his anger became too much, he hit her. Sadie's lip split almost immediately and the bruises she acquired would take weeks to vanish. Peter then took her by the hair and drug her into the bedroom. He planned on making her see what she was missing. Once they made love, she would apologize for making him lose his temper and go home with him.
Instead she hit him with a three inch thick, leather bound copy of The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe. Peter had pushed her to the bed and was withering on top of her, rubbing his body against hers. There was only a thin barrier of cotton between their bodies. She felt his desire for her solidly against her hip. Peter kissed her, or tried to. Her mouth stayed as tight as a vice and only opened when he backhanded her. Tears gathered in her eyes while the sting of the hit heated her cheek. The book sat on the edge of her nightstand only a foot or so from her head.
The impact caught them both off guard. Sadie didn’t realize what she had done until his body hit the floor. It was satisfying to hear him moan and clutch his head but she knew it would be more satisfying to see him in handcuffs in the back of Kent’s cruiser. So she rolled to the other side of her queen bed and grabbed the pistol that she kept in her nightstand.
Too Far Gone (Adirondack Pack Book 1) Page 7
