by Jodi Vaugn
Her stomach churned as the bleak memory of the argument that she and her mother had gotten into before the accident rose up in her mind. Kate had told her mom that Tom Hudson had proposed. Her mother had gotten upset and forbidden her to marry him, insisting Tom was nothing but a con artist, and that he was only interested in living off Kate.
Her mother had taken her eyes off the winding road in Eureka Springs for a brief second. That’s all it took for their car to plummet off the cliff.
It had taken Kate a month to recover from her physical injuries, but she had yet to get over the gaping wound her mother’s death had left behind.
It had taken less than three months after the accident for Tom to leave and take all of Kate’s savings with him.
Now, a year later, she was facing the fact that her B&B, the only home she’d known, was facing foreclosure.
She poked her hand out from under the warmth of the quilt and held the bank letter up to the glow of the porch light.
Her heart froze in her chest as she read, and then reread, the looming threat of foreclosure if she didn’t make up her missed mortgage payments.
“How can I make my mortgage if I don’t have any customers? We’re in a recession. Who is going to pay to stay at the Bella Luna Inn when the competition in town is only half the price—plus has a pool?” She clenched her jaw against the sting of tears. She was tired of crying every time she thought about her situation. She needed a solution, not more tears.
Willy Montgomery, the bank president, had given her mother the loan for the Bella Luna years ago. She remembered the first time she’d met him as a little girl. They were walking out of the bank when he’d stopped them. Her shoestrings had come loose, and he’d bent down and tied them for her.
Strange how such a small act of kindness had stayed with her all this time.
“Maybe Mr. Montgomery will be willing to give me an extension.” Kate stood, a flicker of warm hope beginning to spread within her chest despite the winter chill. If she got an extension, then she could start making a plan to draw more customers and turn her business around.
She padded over to the porch railing and slowly exhaled. “I can’t lose this place. I refuse to let my mother down. Not again.”
The biting winter air stilled and the woods went silent. She looked toward the thick woods. The security light on the side of the house didn’t reach that far, leaving that side of the house shrouded in darkness. She had never minded before.
But tonight was different.
Tonight she felt like she wasn’t alone.
Wrapping her quilt around her, she hurried to the door. Once inside, she quickly locked the door and peered out the window.
She laughed. “I must be spending too much time alone. I’m starting to imagine things. Now, I’m talking to myself.”
She definitely needed some adult conversation. She made a mental note to call her best friend, Beau, the local veterinarian, and set up a lunch date.
The isolation she loved so much was making her imagination run wild.
***
“You need to let me out of here.” Braxton tried to stay calm, but he couldn’t keep the urgency out of his voice. The urge to shift into wolf pulled at him like never before. If he didn’t get out of the back of the police car soon, he was going to rip the inside of the car apart.
“I think you need to remember, hotshot, you have the right to remain silent. So why don’t you do that till we get to the precinct.” The older cop shot him a glare in the rearview mirror.
“I don’t think you understand…” Braxton’s breathing increased as the wolf inside him roared to life.
“I understand just fine. What you don’t understand, dipshit, is that you are two seconds away from me kicking your sorry ass.”
“Look, asshole, I’m telling you if you don’t let me out of this car, I’m going to rip your fucking throat out.” Braxton’s heart raced, the adrenaline of the wolf coursing through his veins. He gritted his teeth, attempting to shutter a growl, but it rolled out anyway.
The Assassins were coming for him, and if they found him trapped in the back of a police car, it would be like shooting fish in a barrel.
He wasn’t a fucking goldfish.
“That’s it.” The older cop pulled the cruiser into a deserted alley, slammed on the brakes, and killed the engine. Turning around, he sneered. “Now we’re going to have some fun.”
“Ahhh... Jerry, I don’t think…” The younger cop’s worried gaze flickered between him and his partner. “We should just keep driving to the station.”
Jerry glared. “Mike, when I want your fucking opinion I’ll ask for it. You got that?”
“Jerry. Your name’s Jerry. Like Ben and Jerry’s?” Braxton curled his fingers into fists, trying to force himself from shifting in front of the human cops.
“You son of a bitch. That’s it.” Jerry slid out of the front seat and opened the back door.
Braxton blew out an anxious breath and tried to slow his heart rate. Maybe if he could distract them long enough, he could shift and get the fuck out of there.
His relief was short-lived.
Jerry snatched him out of the car by his hair. Losing his balance, Braxton stumbled against the side of the car.
Jerry slammed his police baton across Braxton’s back. Pain exploded across his shoulders, buckling his knees and sending him into the dirty pavement.
Braxton growled, the pain fueling his body to shift into wolf, to protect himself.
“Jerry, what the hell are you doing?” The second cop held his hands up and stepped between them.
“I’m teaching this white trash some fucking manners.” Jerry stepped around his partner, but the younger cop blocked him.
“I can’t let you do this, man. This ain’t right.” Mike rested his hands on his partner’s shoulders.
Braxton laughed from his position on the ground.
Both cops turned to him.
“What’s so funny, asshole?” Jerry shook off his partner’s hold and narrowed his eyes.
Braxton met his gaze and gave him a sinister grin. “I’ve got something I want to show you.”
Braxton relaxed and let go of the chain restraining his inner beast as the shift began to pound through his veins.
He’d lost his job, his mother’s faith, and now, his future.
He had nothing left to lose.
Braxton’s eyes rolled back in his head as he embraced the wolf. His bones shifted, cartilage stretched, muscles contracted and stretched as power flowed through his veins. His clothes shredded and fell from his body as the beast replaced his human form. His heart raced in his chest, and a deep growl dripped from his lips.
Opening his eyes, he jumped to his paws.
He met the horrified gaze of the two human cops.
“What the fuck?” Jerry held his hands up and backed away, his face white.
Braxton took a step toward him.
Jerry screamed and a dark spot began to spread in the region of his crotch.
He wanted to laugh at the asshole cop wetting his pants, but it didn’t seem so funny with the younger cop pointing a 10 mm between his eyes.
CHAPTER TWO
The cop squeezed the trigger.
Braxton leaped. The bullet whizzed past his ear.
Pushing off his back legs, he sprang toward the darkened alley, running hard and pushing his muscles to their limit.
“Stop!”
Ignoring the cop’s command, Braxton ran as fast as his four legs could carry him. A second gunshot echoed into the night. He gritted his teeth, expecting the impact of the bullet to penetrate his hide any second.
The pain never came.
He skidded to a stop when he reached a chain-link fence at the far end of the alley. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the cop running toward him, gun drawn.
He was trapped like a fucking rat. He backed up a few feet, sprinted and jumped, easily clearing the fence beneath him.
The s
econd his feet made contact with the ground, he ran, dodging trash cans and a homeless drunk.
He had to put as much distance behind him as he could before the Assassins arrived. They were probably already at the police station, waiting to bail him out. Once he was in their custody, they would kill him.
Assassins were the most vicious werewolves, sent to deliver justice, quickly and effectively. No wolf survived and no wolf ever got away.
Braxton raced through the cold night, keeping to the shadows and staying out of sight as he doubled back to his parents’ house.
By the time he arrived at the house, everything was quiet. The ambulance was gone and the nosy neighbors had gone back to the shelter of their own homes, their overeager curiosities appeased. Except for the yellow police tape draped across the front door, it looked like any other ordinary street in America.
Braxton’s gaze landed on his Harley and he smiled. Thank God no one had tried to take his bike into evidence. It might be old, but it was his baby. Now it was the only thing he had left. Crawling under the neighbor’s evergreen shrub, he shifted back into human form.
Something sharp poked him. He winced and rubbed his ass. Fucking holly bush.
He glanced up and down the street, making sure he was alone before venturing out of his safe spot. The last thing he needed was some early-rising housewife to see him running across the yard nude and call the cops on him.
Hurrying over to his bike, he reached inside the saddlebag and grabbed a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a pair of tennis shoes. He dressed quickly. His leather jacket and boots were still in the alley where he’d shifted. A Were’s natural body temperature ran a few degrees higher than a human’s, so he didn’t really need a coat to keep him warm. He was a walking furnace.
Still, that leather jacket was his favorite.
Grabbing the Harley, he walked it down a block before starting the engine. No need to alert the neighbors that he was back.
He cast one last look back on his parents’ house. Now it was his mother’s house. Was she okay? An overwhelming urge to go to the hospital and check on her pulled at his gut.
He shook his head. There was no reason to check on her. She was completely safe. The only danger in her life was now dead.
Braxton had bigger concerns. He had to make it out of Louisiana before the Assassins caught up to him. He had to try to make it to Missouri. It was one of the few states that offered refuge for Weres who were in trouble with the law. Every werewolf in trouble hunkered down in that state.
He straddled his bike, comforted by the feel of steel and chrome between his legs. He started the engine and tore down the street, refusing to look back on a life he no longer knew.
***
Dressed in tan pants, a black sweater, and armed with a smile, Kate walked through the doors of First Springs Bank. The lines for the bank tellers were five people deep, and the secretary had her phone pressed against her ear, furiously scribbling something in a folder. It was quite busy for the small town of Eureka Springs.
She hesitated and then took a couple of steps toward the secretary’s desk. The woman gave her a warm smile and nodded her toward the empty chairs lined against the paneled wall near her desk.
Kate sat and almost placed her purse on the floor before remembering her mother’s superstitious words: Never put your purse on the floor or you’ll never have any money.
She snatched the bag up to her lap before it had a chance to hit the floor. Not that she was superstitious or anything, but at this point in the game, it didn’t hurt to be cautious.
She sat her purse in the chair beside her.
“Why, Miss Wolph. What a pleasant surprise.” Oliver Bigsby’s grating voice seemed to echo throughout the small bank.
Kate froze, her stomach coiling with irritation. It wasn’t enough that Bella Luna was under the threat of foreclosure, now she had the bad luck to run into Bigsby, the land developer who’d been trying to buy her bed and breakfast for the last six months.
Kate glued a polite smile on her face and faced the man. “Hello, Mr. Bigsby.”
“If I had known you were going to be in town, I would have made lunch reservations for us.”
“What for?” Her smile slipped. Was he deluded or just full of shit to think she’d ever consider having lunch with him?
“So we could talk about your little piece of land.” He smiled, his too-perfect teeth looking a little too horsey for her tastes. He ran his manicured hand through his blonde hair and moved her purse out of the chair and onto the floor before sitting.
Clenching her jaw, she jerked her purse up, placed it in her lap and crossed her arms. “I’ve told you, Mr. Bigsby, I have no intention of selling Bella Luna. To you, or to anyone else for that matter.” She turned her attention back toward the secretary, who had ended her call.
“No need to act brave, Kate. A little birdie told me you are in a bit of financial trouble.” Bigsby smirked.
“And who would this little birdie be? My ex-boyfriend?” She didn’t put it past her ex to try to kiss Bigsby’s ass for a little money.
Mr. Bigsby gave her a little nod while attempting a sympathetic smile.
He looked like Mr. Ed the horse trying to count. She glanced at his feet to see if he was going to paw the ground as well.
“I’m afraid your little vulture has no idea what he’s talking about. I’ve not talked to him in six months, so he wouldn’t know a thing about the Bella Luna.” She turned her attention back to the secretary and caught the older woman’s eye. The secretary stood and beckoned Kate forward with a wave of her hand.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have business to attend to.” She stood, slung her purse on her shoulder, and strode across the bank.
“Kate, my offer still stands. Keep that in mind.”
She cringed, her face heating with embarrassment as the stares from other patrons stung her skin. The other bed and breakfast owners hated Bigsby for driving away their customers. The last thing she needed was for her name to be linked with his.
Keeping her gaze on the secretary, she didn’t break her stride until she sat in the leather chair.
She kept her smile on her face and inhaled deeply.
“That’s the biggest jackass I’ve ever come across.” The older secretary nodded in Bigsby’s direction.
Kate snorted, surprised by the matronly secretary’s blunt response. “Actually, I was thinking he looked more like a horse’s ass.”
The secretary’s eyes lit up with amusement. “Yes, that would fit better. Especially with those teeth. The man looks like he’s got a mouth full of Chicklets gum.”
Kate laughed at the visual.
“Now what can I do for you, dear?” The secretary slid a red lollipop across her desk to Kate and smiled.
“Thank you.” Kate twirled the candy between her fingers. Leaning forward, she whispered. “I’d like to speak to Mr. Montgomery.”
The secretary’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. “Mr. Montgomery retired some months ago. His grandson, William Weatherford, is the bank president now.”
Kate’s heart accelerated, seeming to echo in her hollow chest. “Mr. Montgomery isn’t the president anymore?” Mr. Montgomery might have helped her, might have bought her some time until she could get on her feet. How was she going to convince his grandson, whom she didn’t know, to help her?
“No, honey.” The secretary’s brow creased. “But I’m sure our new president can help you. What is it you want to see him about?”
“It’s about my bed and breakfast.” Her voice, like her heart, cracked a little in desperation.
The secretary nodded and pressed a button on her phone and spoke quietly.
“He’s got time before lunch. His office is right down that hall.” The secretary pointed and gave her an encouraging smile.
***
After pouring her heart out and pleading with the new bank president to no avail, Kate stood outside in the cold winter wind, her l
ast hope dashed. Mr. William Weatherford had been quite different than his grandfather. The new bank president cared more about the bottom line than taking care of his customers.
Unless she paid her mortgage up to date by the end of the month, the bank would begin its foreclosure proceedings.
In order to make that kind of money, she would need to rent out all five of her bedrooms every night for a month.
It was something she’d never done. Ever.
She couldn’t even fill up the Bella Luna for one night, let alone thirty consecutive nights.
The more she dwelled on it, the more she saw her hope slipping away.
Tears burned behind her eyes as she hurried down the sidewalk to the alley where she’d parked. She blinked furiously, trying to hold back the tears, and prayed she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew.
Even though it was only noon, the tall, historic buildings loomed over the alley, blocking the winter sun’s warmth and chilling her to the bone.
Kate swiped at the tears trickling down her cheeks. The urge to get home and curl up in her warm bed made it almost painful to breathe.
She’d never missed her mother more.
Blinded by her tears, she stumbled across the uneven brick pavement and tumbled to the ground. Loose gravel and rock bit into her palms and knees. She didn’t bother holding her tears back now. She was alone with no one to hear her.
Under the bruising weight of hopelessness, she hung her head and sobbed, letting the tears flow free.
***
The soft sounds of a woman crying drifted down the alley where Braxton had parked his Harley.
He’d driven from Shreveport, only stopping to get gas, and had arrived in Eureka Springs around noon. He knew the biker bar on the Historical Loop was known for their wings and for their reputation of not remembering who came and went. Charles Manson could escape from prison, grab a snack and a game of pool, and when questioned the patrons would claim they never heard of the guy.
He had been starving and planned on stopping long enough to grab something to eat before traveling on to Missouri.
