by T. Cobbin
The Enforcer’s Destined Mate
by
T. Cobbin
The Enforcer’s Destined Mate
Copyright © 2016, T. Cobbin
ISBN: 9781944270506
Publisher: Beachwalk Press, Inc.
Electronic Publication: November 2016
Editor: Pamela Tyner
Cover: Fantasia Frog Designs
eBooks are not transferable. No part of this book may be used or reproduced without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations in articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
Back Cover Copy
Two tiger shifters struggle to find their way past pain and heartbreak in the hopes of discovering their own happily ever after.
Belle lives in a village that is a sanctuary for feline shifters who need a place to escape their troubles and start anew. She’s a tiger shifter and the only female enforcer for the small community—a position that fills her with pride. She’s happy and content with her life, although her mother has been badgering her about finding a mate. But as far as Belle is concerned, if her mate wants her, he can come seek her out.
Things begin to change when their Alpha gives approval for Shawn, a male tiger shifter, to become part of their community. Belle instantly knows he’s her mate. But he’s spent years in a violent relationship. He’s tired, his self-confidence has disappeared, and he’s extremely leery of getting involved again.
Then tragedy strikes and suddenly Belle is dealing with her own heartbreak. Meanwhile, Shawn is still struggling to escape his past, dealing with a vengeful ex and city police who seem to believe he was the abuser rather than the victim.
Can these two shifters overcome all the obstacles blocking the path to true love?
Content Warning: contains strong language, some violence, and lots of hot, steamy sex scenes
Dedication
To those who always felt different from everyone else. You’re unique, treasure it.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to my wonderful publisher, Pamela Tyner, and Beachwalk Press for giving me another chance to tantalize you my readers with my imagination. And to everyone else behind the scenes who make me look better.
Author’s Foreword
Abuse comes in all forms. Don’t suffer. Get help before the final blow comes. There is all kinds of help out there; seek it out. Don’t hide in shame. You aren’t the only one, and alas, never will be.
Don’t ask why someone keeps hurting you, ask why you keep letting them.
Chapter 1
Shawn Burr walked into his office and placed the two styrofoam cups of coffee on his desk. Removing his coat, he hung it up just as his boss called his name. Sighing, he picked up one of the cups and walked down the small hallway leading to his boss’s office, knowing the look he was about to get.
Paul’s eyebrows rose in surprise, then he shook his head in dismay. “Again?” he asked. “How many accidents has this been this month?” He said the word accidents with a cynical tone. “And just how hard did she hit you this time to need that?” Paul pointed to the bandage on Shawn’s head.
Shawn lifted his hand, touching the bandage on his brow. Both Paul and Shawn were shifters—Shawn was a tiger, and Paul was a wolf—and they healed faster than the average human. But the wound Rosie had inflicted last night had been so bad it had required stitches. That should have told him just how abusive things had gotten, and yet there he was in front of his friend and boss ready to justify why Rosie, his fiancée, had turned on him again last night.
Shawn and Rosie had been together since the end of college. They’d met in a bar; she was celebrating getting a job as the assistant manager at the huge hotel in town. She was carefree and fun in the beginning of their relationship, but as her job began taking its toll she brought her grievances home with her.
Rosie was the youngest of six children. Her siblings were all male, and she had learned from a young age how to take care of herself. Shawn quickly found out just how well she could do that. She was able to manipulate her brothers; she had each of them wrapped around her little finger. Having five burly siblings at her beck and call had boosted her ego and given her the impression that the world should bow down at her.
Shawn and Rosie had been involved for four years now, and between the embarrassment and fear that her brothers would track him down, he put up with Rosie’s attitude and abuse. No one but Paul knew what went on behind closed doors. Even the few friends he’d had were now non-existent.
As a shifter, Shawn was exceptional at keeping secrets, but his tiger had been very quiet for about two years now. The other half of his soul didn’t agree with letting a female treat Shawn the way she did. He had urged Shawn to leave Rosie and go look for their true mate, the woman who would love and care for them until the end of time. Shawn had felt the loss of his other half greatly. The last year had been worse. He had never felt so alone in the world as he did now.
He’d grown up with loving parents who had spent years on the run after their own pack disallowed their mating. Not long after Shawn had left college, his parents were killed in a drive-by shooting. To this day Shawn didn’t know if the bullets were meant for them or if they’d merely been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’d met Rosie a few months after that, and she’d helped with the sorrow he felt.
He knew she wasn’t his true mate, but over time their love grew, and he’d been willing to imprint on Rosie enough to forget his true mate could be out there. His tiger didn’t agree and hated the woman and her treatment enough to retreat far into Shawn’s mind and stay there.
“Paul…” Shawn walked to his desk and placed Paul’s coffee down.
“Don’t Paul me. You think I don’t know what’s going on? I’m not stupid you know. You can get help.”
Shawn knew how angry Paul was because his eyes kept flashing between amber and blue. The man’s wolf was so close to the surface it seemed to be fighting to get out.
“She’s just having a hard time at the moment.” Shawn tried to reason with his friend and boss.
“She’s been having a hard time for what, a year now? Two?” he asked, slapping his hands on the desk. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. “I can’t help unless you ask for it.”
Paul shook his head and waved his hand, shooing Shawn out of his office in exasperation. Shawn walked out of the office, his hand on the doorknob, ready to close it when Paul yet again offered his never ending support.
“I’m here when you need me, Shawn. I just hope you accept my help before she kills you.”
Nodding, Shawn pulled the door shut and walked to his desk. Sitting down, he asked himself the same questions he’d been asking himself for a while. Did he love Rosie enough to stay with her any longer? Where would he go if he left? He had no family to turn to, to gather help from. What would he do? Who would believe him anyway? Could he stay hidden enough to escape her brothers? Sighing, he pushed the thoughts away and turned his mind to work.
Shawn had worked for Paul Hardy as a receptionist and PA for four years. Shawn had management skills thanks to several courses he’d taken in college, but he had known since childhood that he wasn’t interested in being a millionaire, high roller type of person. He loved helping people, and he enjoyed his work. He met many different people through his job. Shawn’s boss was a solicitor. He wasn’t one of those rich, high society people either—he handled a lot of cases through legal aid. Shawn’s job could be challenging. Every day was different, even if the paperwork was the same.
He’d been ridiculed by some of his friends in the beginning...a receptionist? But he would shrug his shoulders. Not everyone wanted to be a manager, lawyer, or something high class, and he was happy doing his job.
The day flew by. Several meetings and a whole lot of filing kept him busy, and it wasn’t until he noticed the dimming light that he looked up and took notice of the time. Shit! Standing, he grabbed his coat, called out to Paul that he was leaving, and ran to the car park. Rosie didn’t like it when he was late.
“You’re a receptionist, a nine-to-five job, there is no reason for you to be late. I’m a fucking manager. I’m the one who works all hours. You’re supposed to be here ready and waiting when I get home,” she would scream.
As he drove down the motorway, he knew tonight there would be hell...again. Every time she got angry, he would take it. Each time she threw something at him he would justify it. Any time she laid a hand on him, he thought he deserved it. Afterward she always cried and apologized profusely, saying she wouldn’t do it again. She would arrive home with a present of some sort the next day. For a few days after things would be great, but then he’d go and do something wrong again in her eyes.
But he was growing tired of being her battering post, her apologies became meaningless, and he was beginning to realize she wasn’t going to change. The threat of her brothers coming after him if he left her was beginning to lose its effectiveness, and it was becoming more and more tempting to find out if they would. What was the worst they could do? Kill him? Bring him back? Being brought back would be worse than death.
He often wondered what Rosie would do if he told her about his tiger. She had no idea Shawn was a shifter. It was the one thing he had kept hidden from his volatile fiancée. The shifter world was a secret, but as a potential person Shawn might imprint on, a future mate, he could tell her. Shawn knew if he told her, it could go either way, good or bad. She could be freaked out enough to leave him or she could be manipulative enough to blackmail him with it. In a way he was glad that he hadn’t opened that door.
There was no way on this earth he would ever raise a hand to a woman. He’d thought about going to the police once or twice after she’d hit him, but with his fast healing his bruises would quickly disappear. When the injuries hadn’t healed quickly, like last night, as he sat in the hospital waiting for stitches for the umpteenth time, he wondered how he could explain it so that someone believed him. He wouldn’t have a leg to stand on, because who would believe a two hundred pound, six-foot man was being abused by his five-foot fiancée? Her brothers would be behind her all the way; they made escaping her just as hard. The first time he’d met them, they’d encircled him and threatened bodily harm if he ever laid a finger on her.
Shawn turned onto a suburban street just outside Yorkshire and pulled up in front of a three-bedroom house with a white picket fence. In spring and summer it was covered in flowers, portraying the picture of a happy family home. When Rosie received her promotion to manager two years ago, she had dragged him house hunting with her. When she’d seen this place she’d fallen in love with it. A week after the deeds had been signed they had moved in. He’d gone along with it, because he would do anything to see her happy. So why tonight as he drove up the driveway did he feel dread in his heart? Why did he feel sick to the very depths of his stomach? The sight of the house now brought nothing but misery. Fear rode him hard. For a few seconds he actually thought about turning his car around and leaving, but then the front door opened and Rosie stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips. Crap!
He got out of the car, and before he even made it inside the house Rosie was yelling. “Why are you late? Are you seeing someone else?” Her hands roamed his body as if looking for evidence of an affair.
Turning his back to her, he placed his coat on the coat rack near the door. “I forgot the time. I’m sorry, work was busy today.” He held up his hands, trying to appease her.
The sound of skin slapping on skin rang out loud, and Shawn’s head whipped to the side. Pain shot through his cheek. He turned his head back to Rosie, raising his hand to the burning sensation she had left behind with her palm.
“Why?” he asked. He wasn’t surprised she’d hit him, but for some reason he wanted to hear her feeble excuse for doing so.
“I am the fucking manager. I’m the one who fucking works long hours. You are supposed to be home before me and greet me at the door!” Rosie turned away from him and stomped into the kitchen.
Inhaling a slow, deep breath, he followed. “I’m sorry, honey. I’ll try to keep better track of the time. I don’t do it often. It was a mistake.”
She sat down at the kitchen table and pulled a large glass of wine in front of her, indicating she was done. Sighing to himself, Shawn started pulling stuff out of the fridge for dinner. He knew keeping his mouth shut at this stage was the best idea.
“Stuffed mushrooms?” he asked with his back to her, hiding his grimace and hoping he’d guessed right for the meal.
“Fine,” she grumbled. Standing, she walked out of the room with her wine glass in hand.
Shawn blew out a breath. It looked like he’d gotten off easy tonight. He cooked for the next hour or so, enjoying the peace. But just as he was dishing up the food a raging, red-faced Rosie stormed into the kitchen.
“Men! You just don’t seem to understand, do you?”
His hand which was holding a set of tongs stalled in the air. He quickly ran through everything he’d done in the house that morning until now. Towel on the rack and not on the floor. Had he placed the cap back on the toothpaste? Had he made the bed? He was sure he hadn’t left the toilet seat up.
Gingerly, he asked, “Uh, honey, what’s up?”
“What’s up?” she shrieked. “What the fuck is up?” she screamed louder and began pacing up and down in short, quick, jerky movements. “A few things have gone missing at work, so the owner asked for a stock report. I ordered Phil, the deputy manager, to do a stock intake. He forgot. He fucking forgot, and tonight I get the owner of the hotel asking me for the list. One fucking blunder and I get it in the neck. It wasn’t even my doing. Ahhh!” Rosie screamed and threw the empty glass she held in her hand. It went flying across the room. Tinkering shards of glass as it shattered across the kitchen floor could be heard before Rosie screamed again. “Why can’t things go right?”
Shawn placed the tongs on the counter carefully, trying not to make a sound, knowing full well any little movement or sound right now would turn her anger onto him. His tiger inside of him stirred, growled deeply, and then curled itself up in a tighter ball and went back to sleep. Shawn jolted, feeling a huge loss and rejection yet again. He wanted so badly to be in touch with his lifelong friend again. Any kind of support from anyone would be a dream at this precise moment.
Why was he doing this? Why had he let Rosie treat him like shit for so long? He hadn’t even shared his tiger with her in the years they’d been together. Wasn’t that how relationships were supposed to work? He longed to share that with a mate, to have kits with one. Just to be happy and comfortable.
The tongs rocked from side to side. With silent dread Shawn looked up, straight into the wild eyes of his fiancée. He knew in that second that no matter what he did, who he was, it wasn’t him that would make Rosie or himself happy.
Here it comes was his last thought before all hell broke loose. Rosie lost it. Her face turned red and she started screaming, shouting, and thrashing at him with her fists and feet. When he tried to hold her off by grabbing her wrists, she screeched louder.
“Want to hit me, do you? Well, come on, big boy, here’s your chance, hit a woman!”
He instantly let go of her wrists, guilt wracking him. He would never harm her, no matter what she did. He saw her pick up the pan he’d been boiling green beans in and watched as she pitched it toward him. Instinctively, his arms rose to protect his face. The water rolled down his forearms, his skin burning and stinging. Pain filled every pore in his
limbs.
“I’m sorry, Rosie, but it isn’t my fault.” His begging voice came out, muffled behind his arms. He lowered them a fraction to look over his hands to see what she was doing only to feel more pain. Smack! The pan flashed right across the side of his face.
He didn’t dare move. He stood stiff as a post, his arms again raised in front of his face, his teeth biting down on his tongue to keep quiet through the pain. The sound of the pan being dropped to the floor left him waiting to see what came next. Nothing.
Gradually, he dropped his arms and watched in stunned silence as Rosie, his once blonde goddess whom he had loved with all his heart and soul, grabbed a chopping knife off the counter and plunged it into his stomach before he could even think about defending himself.
Seeing the anger she directed at him, his heart broke,and tears filled his eyes. As the world dulled in roaring pain he cried out to his tiger, wanting his companion to love him one last time. His knees collapsed underneath him as pain racked his body. He looked down between his linked fingers to see his blood pouring through them. So this was how it was to end? Paul had only just said that morning he hoped Shawn asked for help before she killed him.
Cold seeped into his veins as more blood left his body. Falling onto his side, he curled up into a ball. The pain slowly seemed to drift away. That isn’t a good thing. Closing his eyes, he again searched his mind to find his lifelong companion and curled up along its side. When his tiger purred and curled up with him he almost felt like crying, but he didn’t have the energy.
Shawn had no idea how long he lay there flitting in and out of oblivion. Memories of what happened slowly seeped back each time he became conscious. Every time he remembered, he looked around in panic, trying to see or hear Rosie. But from what he could tell, she wasn’t there.
