The tailgate creaked as he unlatched it. Ian kicked and scrambled to get away from him, but there was nowhere to go. Lorne hooked a hand around his bound feet and dragged him out of the bed of the pickup. Ethan grabbed Ian’s hands. Together, they tossed him into a pre-dug hole where he landed with a hard thunk.
“You never should have gone after her, Ian. You never should have tracked me down.”
Ian’s eyes blazed. Muffled curses were shouted around the cloth and tape. The noises grew louder and more panicked when the first shovel of dirt landed on his legs.
All four men picked up a shovel and worked to fill the hole back up. Lorne knelt at one edge and watched. The anger left his cousin’s eyes. A sliver of fear replaced it.
He’d be a liar if he said it didn’t stroke some dark part of himself. This was for Lilah. This was for Sloan.
Sloan’s world crashed into his and his threatened to take her from him. He always worried about leaving someone behind to cry tears he didn’t deserve, but he’d been wrong. Those tears meant someone gave enough of a shit to shed them. They were a sign of living a good life. He intended to keep on breathing, but that required solving one of the problems beating down his door.
That was love. The ephemeral feelings weren’t enough. It was dealing with the practical matters and working at it, seeing every day to the end. Sloan deserved a better man than him, but she was just crazy enough to stick with him. He’d offer her a hand back to her feet. That was all she needed. She was tough, and he respected the hell out of her determination to keep fighting.
When the dirt was more than a light dusting, Lorne stood. The others stopped, leaning on the handles of their shovels and leering at the man in the hole.
“Last warning,” Lorne growled. “Leave town tonight. Don’t ever come back here. Don’t even think this place’s name. I will bury you alive if I see you again. Understand?”
Ian’s head bobbed up and down even before he finished speaking. The others looked silent questions at him until Lorne dipped his chin to his chest. They were done here and done with Ian.
Unless he stepped foot in Bearden again.
Not even bothering to undo Ian’s bonds, they stepped back into the night. Shovels clattered into the bed of the truck and the Black Claw clan silently left the man in his potential grave.
Lorne’s inner bear rumbled with satisfaction. Sloan would be pleased no blood was shed. The beast was content to keep her safe.
Lorne was happy to shut the door on a part of his life that had molded him in all the wrong ways.
The clan stayed quiet until he reached the road and flicked on the headlights.
Through the middle window pane, Hunter shouted, “Remind me never to piss you off!”
Ethan chuckled and turned up the radio.
Chapter 21
By the fourth day of her suspension, Sloan was convinced there were a finite number of cat pictures a person could reasonably consume in one day. She’d hit hers before noon, and hours before she had any hope of distractions from a certain cowboy. Unlike her, someone had a job to get to that lasted between dawn and dusk.
Her snappy attitude wasn’t Lorne’s fault. He’d been nothing but supportive since barging back into her life. A little overbearing in the care department, but she expected that wasn’t something she could avoid.
Truthfully, it’d been nice to have someone prop up her pillows and settle her on the couch before he left for the day and care for her when he returned at night. She wasn’t bedridden and could do everything herself, but the acts melted her heart. He was there for her. After all that happened, he still showed up and had her back.
No, she was bored and had nothing to do.
Heal up. Take it easy. Those were swear words when the man who’d bruised up her ribs and face had disappeared off the face of the planet and she stared down the dark tunnel with no light at the end for her career.
The problems were of her own making, she knew that. She should have backed off when Crewe ordered her to stand down. Instead, she’d tricked August into a stakeout when she should have been on the lookout for another swift kick while she was down.
Still, something bothered her about Agent John Espen. His questions weren’t right. They scratched at an itch and made her want to dig.
No one willing to talk to her had any information on the guy. The limited searches she had available as a civilian found nothing. Not surprising considering what department he worked for. The agents investigating other agents needed to keep to the shadows.
Even if he was dirty or connected to Jimmy, there wasn’t much he could do. She operated clean. No marks had been made against her. The bullshit with Ian would be cleared up and there were zero rules about who she saw when she was off duty. Espen didn’t have a leg to stand on and his accusations wouldn’t hold up.
She had faith in the system. She just hated that the investigation was taking so long.
Frustration bubbled out of her in a heavy groan as she studied the intricate nothingness of her ceiling. She wasn’t made to sit still. She needed action.
Sloan was in a great pout about missing city life and the variety of food delivery available within fifty minutes when her phone rang. Out in the boonies of a boonie town offered few options. Barbecue, diner, a nebulous fine dining restaurant that promised to post daily specials on their social media accounts but hadn’t updated those in over six months...
“Hello?” she answered.
“Sloan? Hi? This is Alicia, August’s mate?”
Questions, all of them, with worried inflections on the end. Sloan jerked to attention. “Hey, Alicia. What can I do for you?”
Alicia let off a soft sigh. “I was wondering if you’ve heard from August? He said he was going to drop off some stuff for you after he left the office, but that was a couple hours ago.”
“Not since this morning, no.” Which wasn’t that surprising. In their line of work, when something could pop up unexpectedly at any moment, plans changed. Her partner had mentioned earlier he had some cookies baked by his sweet mate to drop off, but he’d never reached out to confirm the time. She’d just assumed other duties needed his attention.
“I’m sure everything is okay,” she reassured Alicia.
Alarm bells rang in her head, though. Maybe she was still running high from her injuries or Espen trying to fuck with her career, but something wasn’t right. August wouldn’t leave his mate hanging. He’d at least shoot off a text to let her know he caught something and would be late.
“I’ll make some calls, if you’d like,” Sloan offered.
“No, no, it’s fine. I’m probably worrying about nothing. Don’t bother yourself on my account,” Alicia insisted.
After a few more pleasantries, Sloan ended the call and drummed her fingers against the couch. The spot between her shoulder blades itched. Something wasn’t right.
She chewed on her lower lip and tried to put herself in August’s shoes. The biggest case they’d been working was Ian Bennett. Maybe something else dropped. Maybe the shifter responsible for attacking that poor family in the campground bit another victim or, hopefully, had been properly identified. Or, entirely mundane, his phone died and he hadn’t noticed.
Each one of those had a rebuttal already in place. He’d been pulled from the Bennett case because of her. If anything happened in or around Bearden, she’d have heard the gossip ten times over already. August liked randomly telling Alicia a whole mess of sappy stuff and always had a phone charger nearby.
Sloan dialed Crewe. Just in case, she told herself. If nothing else, she could badger the man for updates on her own bullshit.
“Kent, was just about to ring you,” Crewe barked. The background was loud with voices. “You heard from Snow?”
Sloan scooted herself to sitting and considered letting the next shifter she saw take a few nibbles just to jumpstart the healing process. “No. That’s why I was calling you. Alicia wanted to know if I’d talked to him. What’s going on?�
�
“Probably nothing. You rest up, okay? Don’t worry—”
Tires crunched up her driveway. A quick glance at the clock said it was early for Lorne’s arrival, but maybe the others in his clan sent him packing.
The horn beeped. She turned and winced when her ribs protested the sudden movement. Another honk had her pushing to her feet. Whatever he needed better be good.
“Crewe,” Sloan snapped. Her heart jammed into her throat. “That’s my partner. What’s going on?”
The activity in the background faded as Crewe stepped away. “He’s missing. Went out for a late lunch and hasn’t shown back up. His radio is silent. Tracking on his rig puts him where he said he’d be, but that was hours ago.”
She twitched aside her curtains. An older SUV, definitely not SEA-issue, parked sideways across her driveway. August sat behind the wheel, not Lorne.
The car horn honked again.
“Crewe, I’ll have to call you back. August just showed up at my place.”
“By the Broken,” Crewe snarled. “You have him report in. Immediately.”
Sloan hung up on the string of curses and orders. She had her own questions. Why he wouldn’t get out of the damn SUV and knock on her door like a polite person, for starters.
She flung open the door and stepped out onto the porch, prepared to give him an earful for worrying his mate and apparently abandoning his proper vehicle for whatever janky number he’d driven to her place.
August shook his head and shouted at her through the windshield, but she couldn’t read his lips or hear him over the blaring horn.
A rustle of clothing was her warning. She jerked to the side and avoided most of the blow to the back of her neck. The glancing punch from the butt of the gun was still enough to send her stumbling down the porch steps and into her yard, phone flying from her hand.
Agent Espen.
His beady eyes tracked her movements as he took a slow step forward. “Sloan Kent. You always had a problem with partners, didn’t you? They’re the ones that take the fall for you.”
Sloan shook her head, feeling like she’d stepped into a conversation at its end. “What are you talking about?”
“First it was Jimmy Culpepper. Poor Jimmy, locked up because his bitch of a partner had to cover up her own crimes.”
“No. No, that’s not what happened.” Sloan took a step toward the SUV. Now that she was closer, she could see August’s hands taped down to the steering wheel. His twists and tugs pounded him against the horn.
A bullet ricocheted off the ground and made her flinch away.
Espen lowered his weapon. “Now you’re here in the thick of those shifters. Can’t help yourself here, either. Poor August Snow is going to see exactly what you think about those filthy animals.”
“They’re people just like us,” she said, mind racing. Fuck. Fuck! Espen was caught up in the bullshit with Jimmy. August, now, too. He was her partner! She wouldn’t…
Do to him what Jimmy did to his shifter victim.
The blood drained from her face. Whether Espen intended to let her live or not, she doubted August would make it. She had to get Espen away from her partner.
Frantically, she looked around her. She was caught between a road with no idea if anyone would pass and a murderous agent clunking down her steps. No path to a weapon, no keys to get in her own Jeep even if she had room to back out, no way to bust August loose before the danger was on her.
Sloan darted into the trees.
Chapter 22
An hour or less, judging by the sun in the sky. Then he’d be done with work for the day and could get back to tending Sloan.
The urge was as powerful as ever, but he didn’t feel like he’d been run over and dragged for miles. Not since she let him into her home and put up with his care. His bear was pleased with the situation. Content. The push for more was a simple flashed image away, but the beast was patient. She’d accepted the word mate and that was enough for the time being.
She was within reach. The claiming mark could wait.
His idiot bear danced through his head like a trained circus animal. Sendings pushed into Lorne’s mind of the mark on Sloan’s skin. He quashed the dumb grin that threatened to take over his entire face. Head under the hood of Tansey’s junk car, he kept his giddiness to himself.
Only a couple more hours, then he’d have his mate back in his arms.
The rumble of vehicles flying up the road pulled him out of his thoughts and mechanical work. He straightened to see two black SUVs speeding up the dirt track, kicking clouds up as they took the turns with dangerous precision.
Ethan glanced up after letting a horse loose into the paddock. “What now?”
At the far end, Alex watched with his hand on the calf needing extra care. The attention rippled to Jesse and Hunter, too, who poked their heads out of the barn.
The vehicles slammed to a stop right in the middle of the yard. Crewe stepped out of one, followed by others. They may as well have been statues for all the emotion they showed on their faces. Their scents were another matter. Concern poured off them in buckets.
“Lorne Bennett,” Crewe called. He hid his eyes behind mirrored shades, but his head turned enough to take in the entire scene.
He stepped forward, wiping his hands on a cloth from his back pocket. “What of it?”
“Need to know if you’ve had any communication with Sloan Kent or her partner today.”
His bear roared to life and battered at the unease creeping down Lorne’s spine. Too many people for a question a phone call could have answered.
“I left her this morning before coming here,” he answered reluctantly. “August, a couple days ago. What’s going on?”
His nostrils flared. “Nothing of concern.”
“Bullshit.” Lorne took a step closer, growl rattling in his throat. Of course. Crewe showed to asked the question in person to test for a lie. Lorne’s shoulders prickled with unease. “What really brought you here?”
Crewe lifted the sunglasses from his face and settled them on his head. Arms crossed, he focused Lorne with a steely look. “Snow has gone silent. Kent said she had eyes on him before also going quiet.”
Ian. Motherfucker. He’d been warned, and he’d gone after Sloan again. Must have been him.
Lorne’s bear shoved to the surface. No more warnings. Only blood would do, now.
Crewe held up a finger as a command to wait when his phone rang. Lorne itched at the silent order, but Ethan’s sharp look kept him from jumping in his truck and speeding off while the inept assholes yakked away the day.
Crewe stalked away to take the call. Not far enough. Lorne heard every word.
“There’s no one at the house. Two vehicles in the driveway, plates are being run now. Got three scents here, but no good trails, like they’ve been covered with something.”
The wheels of his mind spun. Ian hadn’t disguised himself any of the times he’d taken a swing at them. Why would he start now? Or go after Sloan’s partner, too? Lorne directed a narrowed glare at Crewe’s phone.
Crewe cut the call short and spun a finger in the air to round up the rest of his men. The statues packed themselves away in their SUVs without a word.
Fuck that. No thought to him, no explanation? Lorne put himself in Crewe’s path and let his bear roll through him. He knew his eyes flashed and he didn’t care about the growl sawing in his chest. “She’s missing?” Lorne demanded.
Crewe tried to step around him, but Lorne blocked him again. “I don’t have time for this,” the man rumbled.
“It’s that fucking fed, Espen. Has to be.” Lorne’s growl kicked up a notch, his words almost inhuman. If not Ian, then the threat came from Sloan’s past. He never should have left her side. He should have brought her to the ranch to keep her close. If any harm came to his mate...
His bear tore at his center. Danger. Mate. Those were words that weren’t ever supposed to be together.
Crewe’s eyes narrow
ed. “What do you know about that?”
“I know Sloan suspected he was dirty. I know she’s been getting harassed since before she moved here. I know it hasn’t stopped.”
“Harassed? What are you talking about? My people?” His eyes blazed golden and power whipped off him hard enough to make the statues he’d brought with him shuffle.
“Not that she knows.” Lorne spread his hands wide. “She’s been followed. Had shit sent to her in the mail. She said it was related to the guy she put away before being sent here.”
“Dirty. Rat. Bastard,” Crewe ground out. He swung his attention back to the statues. “Load up. Call every last person in. We’re not letting this fucker mess with any of ours.” To Lorne, he growled, “Stay.”
“You think keeping a man from his mate will be any different than last time?” Lorne rolled his head and cracked his neck. The rest of the clan stepped up next to him. “You better have more men than this to restrain us. We’ll be in our trucks and following right behind otherwise.”
A muscle jumped along Crewe’s jaw. “Fine,” he said tightly. “You stay behind us and don’t get in the way. I won’t have you ruining this for us.”
“You think I give a shit about protecting a crime scene or whatever you’re worried about? Sloan is my only concern.” Lorne turned his back on the man and started making his way toward his truck.
Crewe stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “And they’re both mine. Don’t get in the way.”
* * *
Sloan leaned against a thick tree trunk and tried to catch her breath. Her side felt engulfed in flames. Each breath she sucked down burned her lungs.
Over the sound of her pounding heart, she listened. To the birds in the trees, the bugs buzzing in uncaring ignorance of the troubles going on around them. Mostly, she listened for any clue of where Espen stepped.
He’d driven August into the woods with them. She’d seen the two marching with tape slapped over August’s mouth and a gun pointed at his back.
Breaking Fate: Book Three: Black Claw Ranch Page 17
