Let Us Prey: BBW Military Paranormal Romance (Wild Operatives, #2)

by Vivienne Savage

  “In that ramshackle drug den of hers? No, Mr. MacArthur, I don’t think so.”

  “No. In my home. I plan to marry Leigh. We’re on our way to the city hall now for the marriage license,” I spit out. My temper got the best of me and took charge, sweeping me down a road I couldn’t reverse. “I’m going to marry her and adopt Sophia. So you can listen to me now and back off, or wait to see the both of us in court. I promise you, it’s going to be costly, and you won’t like the outcome if we take the legal route.”

  I knew he had Judge Ritts in his pocket, and their fishing buddy friendship was the reason Leigh couldn’t get a fair shot. What Mr. James and Judge Ritts didn’t know was one fucking phone call from me would have him removed by morning. I was willing to take a chance and call in a favor.

  ***

  “What do you mean we’re getting married?”

  “I kind of lost my temper and said I plan to marry you. Then I said we’ll see them in court.”

  For my safety, I decided to lay the news on Leigh after we were on the road and driving toward the next town.

  “Where are we going?” Leigh demanded.

  “To buy a marriage license.”

  “Fuck no. I’m not marrying you.”

  “Well, you might want to listen to the rest of what I have to say before you make up your mind.”

  Leigh settled back in her seat and fixed me with a scowl so dark it could curdle milk. I winced and turned my attention back to the road. “I’m waiting.”

  “If I’m married to you, I have the legal right to stand beside you in court. And just between you and me, I have a military history, no criminal record, and enough money to buy half this town. Alternatively, I can also pull a lot of strings to get Judge Ritts disbarred. What he did today was a severe miscarriage of our justice system, and I’ll be damned if I allow him to get away with it. You met their requirements.”

  “I don’t know, Ian. He’s been a judge for forty years. He’s not a bad man. It’ll ruin him and drag his name through the mud.”

  “But he’s discriminating against you,” I pointed out.

  “I know but—”

  “Do you want Sophia back?”

  Leigh silenced. With her eyes on the window, a thoughtful expression came over her pretty face. She’d made mistakes, but the James’ decisions would follow her for a lifetime. “I want my baby, Ian.”

  “Marry me, Leigh. I have a big house you and Sophia are welcomed to share with me.”

  “What about...” She cleared her throat and gestured between us. “I mean, we haven’t even had a first date. Not really. Marriage is...”

  “It’s convenient for both of us. In a year or so, after you finish school, we can have it annulled or divorce to go our separate ways. I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.” Like hell we would. My deepest hope was she’d come to feel for me what I felt for her.

  “So that’s it? A fake marriage and I get to live in a big house?”

  “Did you expect more?” I took a shot in the dark and stole a look at her from the corner of my eye. “Some kind of perverted sex stipulation?”

  Hot color spread over her face. Bingo.

  “Sex is a very personal, intimate thing for me, Leigh. It goes against my principles to expect you to lay down with me just because I’m giving you a hand.”

  Maybe it had something to do with my shifter half. Eagles mated for life, and the few times I’d have had sex with a woman simply to satisfy a craving, the lack of attachment made me feel empty inside. Incomplete. It was an impression I couldn’t shake, too intense to risk repeating unnecessarily.

  “It’s personal for me, too,” Leigh confided.

  “I meant what I said about taking you out and getting to know you better, Leigh. Look, my house is big enough for you to have your own bedroom. We’ll take it slow and see how things develop.”

  “What if I don’t want to marry you?”

  “Then I’ll find you the best lawyer I can retain on short notice and we’ll take this to court.”

  “What if I marry you and it gets awkward?”

  “Then in a year, they’ll see you haven’t relapsed and we can split.” The idea had its charm and gave me a year to show her I could be the man she wanted for the rest of her life.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay what?”

  “I’ll marry you.”

  “Church or courthouse?” I glanced over at her and grinned. Leigh wiped the tears from her face with one hand and grinned back at me.

  “Courthouse. Think I’ve had enough of church for a while.”

  ***

  “Wait, wait, what?” Russ choked on his beer until his girlfriend slapped him on the back.

  “I said I need a best man. A witness. Whatever it is.”

  “You’re joking, right?”

  Dani swatted Russ. “I don’t see him laughing, hon. Of course we’ll come, Ian.”

  “Thanks, Daniela, it means a lot to me.”

  “Hold on a minute now. Don’t you think you’re rushing into this? Have you talked to her or told her why you feel so strongly about her already?” Russ asked.

  Daniela rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to the bear stalker over here. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you strange shifters, it’s that your hearts lead you to the right place.”

  Abashed, Russ exhaled a low sigh. “Sorry. I guess she’s right, but are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  “I had all night to think about it, Russ. We were supposed to have our first official date yesterday, but after we bought a marriage license at the county courthouse, I spent the evening letting her cry on my shoulder instead,” I said.

  “What I don’t get is why it’s taken so long for Ian to find his fated mate,” Dani mused.

  “There could be any number of reasons, darlin’. Could be he wasn’t truly ready to settle down,” Russ explained.

  I nodded in confirmation. “Have you ever heard the saying ‘there’s someone for everyone’? It really should be ‘there’s a few people for everyone’ because as our life circumstances change...”

  “So do the people we’re destined to find,” Russ said. “Katie was always the woman for me, but her death made room for you, Dani. You were my other soul mate, the one I never knew I had. Because I’d bonded once in my life, it took a while for me to realize you and I bonded.”

  “You guys make it sound so romantic. It would make a beautiful movie plot line, I bet. A tale of a man searching his whole life for his other half, only to find her where he least expects her.”

  “Yeah, in a church of all places,” I grunted.

  “My dad used to say church was the best place to find ‘em,” Russ commented.

  “I guess that’s why Dani found your lazy ass in her yard like some hairy sleeping beauty instead of down the road at the Methodist church around the corner.”

  Russ grunted this time. “Anyway, back to your problem. We’ll be there. Just let us know if you need anything else, like help moving her things.”

  Where would I be without the support of my friends? “Nah. We’re going to start tomorrow.”

  We waited two days instead, taking Wednesday as a cooling off time away from each other to decide what was best. While waiting, I contacted Argus and placed my thumb on a couple contacts who owed me favors. I prepared for the worst possible outcome, which was Leigh deciding she wanted me to go after Judge Ritts. Alternatively, if she wanted to fight, a fancy lawyer from San Antonio was waiting to come to the rescue. The man was so good my pal Argus claimed by the time he finished our defense, Sophia would be back in Leigh’s care and her grandparents would be paying child support.

  Leigh didn’t want that either.

  By Thursday, I drove up in my Escalade to find her wrapping photo frames and small keepsakes. Russ planned to visit later in the evening to fetch her couch with his pickup. It was too new to leave behind like the bed.

  I waited until the next day, after she was long gone and
clear of reprisal before calling the police department about her dealing neighbors. While Leigh unpacked some of her clothes into her new bedroom, I snuck away into my office and got on the line to the Quickdraw Police Department.

  “We’re aware of some problems from that house, Mr. MacArthur,” the young woman said. She didn’t sound like an officer and had to be one of the girls in the office since I knew we had an all-male force.

  “Excuse me?” I asked. “If your officers are aware of it, why aren’t they doing anything?”

  “I can’t answer those questions over the—”

  “I’d like to speak to the chief.” She put me through a ten minute wait before Montgomery answered the line.

  “What can I do for you, Mr. MacArthur?”

  “There are people openly dealing drugs down on Denning Street and you aren’t doing anything about it?”

  “We’ve gotten calls, Mr. MacArthur, nothing else. There’s no proof of wrongdoing there.”

  “That’s bullshit, Montgomery, and you know it. I sat outside Leigh’s house fifteen minutes the other day and saw everything I needed to know. They’ve even got the little kid rushing down the steps to peddle their dope because they’re too lazy to get off their asses.” Leigh had a card from her CPS caseworker, and while I hated to get any parent into trouble with the law, my conscience wouldn’t allow it to rest. I had to call.

  “Now hold on a minute, Ian.”

  “Oh, now we’re on a first name basis, are we? My fiancée is out of that house now, but I want to know what you plan to do about it. I can drive through north side at any hour of the day and catch a handful of drug deals going down by the Dixie Quarters. Why is this happening?”

  “There are things happening behind the scenes that I can’t discuss,” Montgomery said. His snide tone made me wish I could strangle him over the line. “Sometimes, it’s to our benefit to allow some small fish to go free until we catch the keepers, if you get my drift.”

  “Some small fish to go free? It’s become very apparent that Quickdraw has a 100% catch and release program in effect,” I said dryly.

  Montgomery silenced. I pictured him fuming in his office and grinned. “I won’t discuss police matters over the line, MacArthur. I can only tell you to take comfort in knowing we’ve got it under control.”

  “Thanks for your time.” I ended the call and glanced up to see Leigh in the doorway, frowning.

  “Is everything okay, Ian?”

  “Oh, everything’s great. Nothing I can’t handle,” I said. She didn’t need to be bothered any more on the matter. “Did you get Petunia settled in yet?”

  “Oh yeah. She loves it here. Those puppies ought to be here any day now, too.”

  Richard and Gloria James showed up at my home the following afternoon as we were unloading cleaning supplies from our final trip out to her old house. Everything was ready to go on the market.

  “I’m going inside,” Leigh murmured to me. As she stepped toward the door, I grabbed her by the wrist and anchored her in place.

  “You don’t have to run from anyone, Leigh.”

  The elderly couple picked their way down the drive. Gloria walked with a cane these days, following a recent knee replacement surgery. Her husband was a brittle diabetic and just as poor in health. Their son, prior to his arrest for drug crimes, had been their sole caretaker.

  I had to wonder how either of them thought they could take care of a child. If not for a crooked judge, they wouldn’t have had a chance.

  “Hello, Mr. MacArthur. This isn’t a bad time, is it?”

  “No. We’re just finishing up. What can I do for you?”

  “We wanted to apologize to Leigh for what’s happened. Your visit gave us a chance to talk and come to our senses. Thank you, young man.”

  I was hardly as young as I appeared. The magic flowing through my veins slowed aging. We didn’t live more than a decade or two longer than most humans, but we looked better during our lifetimes. So did our bonded mates.

  “We don’t want to take it to court, now that we know you’ll be here to help Leigh. I... we can’t use Sophia to replace Dennis. He’s gone now. There’s no bringing him back, and he made his decisions,” Gloria said.

  “Where’s Leigh so we can tell her in person?” Richard asked.

  Leigh stepped out from behind my vehicle. “I’m right here.”

  “Leigh, we’re sorry. We were so carried away with our pain. And after Dennis died, we just lost sight of what was best for Sophia. He wouldn’t have wanted this. He wouldn’t have wanted all of us fighting this way.”

  I glanced at the open backseat and saw a rear-facing child seat. Sophia was with them of course, her wide-eyed features alert and aware of her surroundings.

  “Do you mean I can see her now? Right now?”

  The older man nodded. Without another word, Leigh dashed for the car and slid in beside Sophia. I watched with a smile on my face.

  “You did the right thing,” I told them both as Leigh reconnected with her daughter. Those sporadic, monitored visits to their home hadn’t been enough.

  “We made contact with the social worker. We can’t leave her here with Leigh just yet, not legally, but you’re both welcome in our home at any time until we hear back from Mrs. Johnson.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. James. Have you set a date and time for Dennis’ funeral?”

  The older woman nodded. They only had about a decade on me, but the vast differences in our appearance came as a benefit of my shifter traits and healthier lifestyle. “We plan to put him to rest Saturday afternoon. We’d like it if both of you came.”

  “Of course.” I hoped Leigh didn’t disapprove of my agreement.

  I invited the couple inside my home for coffee while Leigh bonded with her child in the living room. We gave her complete freedom from our prying eyes and stayed clear. She didn’t need a monitor. She wouldn’t harm Sophia.

  “Cream, sugar?” I asked. A little friendly interaction went a long way, and despite the minor difference in our ages, I treated them with the same respect I’d give my gram.

  “Yes, please,” Gloria answered.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, Mr. MacArthur, how old are you?”

  “Ian, please. And no, I don’t mind. I actually get this a lot. I’ll be fifty-four next month.”

  Their eyes bugged. I’ve heard every kind of joke, from having great genes to having the same physical fitness trainer as Brad Pitt. I didn’t look my age and I never would.

  “Well, you sure don’t show it,” Gloria commented.

  A sweet soprano drifted from the living room into the kitchen. The lullaby was a familiar tune, but I’d never found it particularly pretty until now.

  “Is that Leigh?”

  “It is. You didn’t know she could sing?”

  “She never talks about singing. She only told me she likes to hear the choir at church.” We had talked about volleyball, her sports injuries, and her failure to complete college, but singing never made the conversation. She had a beautiful voice.

  “Leigh used to be the best in the choir before...” Richard’s voice trailed.

  It became crystal for me then, and I was able to understand everything about the sorrow on her face during the service. I finally knew her reasons for attending despite their unwelcoming behavior.

  “Would they let her in the choir again now? Look, I know you don’t much like her the way you used to, but even you have to admit she’s paid her dues. What do we have to do to get this town to accept it?”

  They looked at each other. “I think everything has to start with us, Ian.”

  Chapter Seven

  ~Leigh~

  My husband-to-be arrived in jeans. He wore them well, but I couldn’t help but mourn the loss of the classic fairy tale wedding from my childhood fantasies.

  In my dreams, I’d wear an exquisite white gown with trailing lace while a half dozen bridesmaids beamed proudly from beside the altar. They wore blue, my favorite color
, with wine-colored sashes around their waists. I had flowers in my hair and a piano player skillfully announcing my arrival with the wedding march. His hands would glide over the ivories and I’d emerge to find a captive audience who melted before my beauty on my special day. My father would lead me down the aisle to a handsome man in a flawless tuxedo, join our hands, and give me away with tears in his eyes.

  The crushing reality was a Wal-Mart dress from the clearance aisle and two of Ian’s friends in their Sunday best. My dad died two years ago from throat cancer and my friends scattered like cockroaches when the shit hit the fan after Sophia’s birth.

  One glance at the man beside me sped my pulse rate to a jackhammer pace. Ian was a good-looking man, a kind man, and there were worse guys to marry. I’d hoped his kindness would soothe the butterflies in my belly, but it didn’t. I nervously smoothed my fingers over the edge of my yellow and white sundress.

  “It’s not too late to change your mind,” Ian whispered in my ear.

  “I should be telling you that.” It was his crazy idea, after all.

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  The simple ceremony lacked fanfare. An old tape player running in the background provided our Wedding March and the magistrate stood by a long table where our wedding license waited. He spoke a few solemn words regarding the sanctity of marriage before asking if we each accepted the other. Then he had us sign the papers. Envying Ian’s steady handwriting, I tried to script my own name without my pen shaking all over the line. He was unwavering, steel nerves and perfect composure.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

  Instinctively, my eyes shifted from the judge to my new husband and found Ian closely watching me in return. Before I could concoct a phony excuse or claim modesty, Ian’s mouth lowered against mine.

  Ian swept me away with his intensity. My fingers threaded through his silvering hair and anchored him in place as surely as the arms around my waist held me to his military-honed physique. Years after his retirement, he was still built like a soldier at the peak of his career.

  His tongue darted between my lips, prompting me to open my mouth in acceptance. My nipples tightened beneath my strapless bra and our audience vanished from my memory. Only the tangle of our tongues mattered, along with how much I wanted to guide Ian’s hand from my waist to my breasts, or better yet, to place it between my thighs where my panties dampened.