She’d tried to double back to grab her phone or, hell, even get shoes on and her own weapon to take the bastard down, but he’d been too quick for her and cut her off within sight of her house.
Her only hope was to keep him on the move until someone showed up. Crewe wouldn’t let her languish away after dropping the bomb that August was in her driveway. Not when the man had been missing for hours.
Someone would check. If not someone from the office, Lorne was due to visit after dark. She held to the belief like her life depended on it.
Maybe it did.
“Don’t do it, Kent!” Espen shouted in mocking tones. “He’s a good man!”
A gunshot rang through the woods. The sudden noise silenced the chirps of birds.
Sloan squeezed her eyes closed at August’s curse of pain. Small victories. He was alive enough to growl out promises of payback.
She pressed herself against the tree trunk and willed her heart to stop racing. There wasn’t any waiting if Espen was already shooting. She couldn’t leave her partner to the madman.
Sloan glanced around for anything she could use as a weapon and tried to make a plan. Only sheer luck had kept her from being captured so far. She couldn’t run very fast or very far with her side screaming at her to slow down.
Time to get back to nature. Maybe she should have begged harder for her parents to send her to summer camp. City kids just couldn’t survive in the middle of nowhere with sticks and stones.
“Come out, you dumb bitch!” Espen yelled again.
Sloan paused the ramble of her thoughts and cast a look around her. If all she had to work with were sticks and stones, she’d sure as fuck break some bones.
She crouched down and grabbed the thickest branch near her. Silent prayers were whispered into the universe in the hopes that someone listened. No lightning bolts flashed through the sky to strike down Espen, so she was on her own. She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake.
“You’re running out of time, you gangrenous dickhole!” Sloan shouted.
Rustled footsteps ran in her direction, then stopped. She mouthed a curse of her own and gripped the branch tightly, feeling every bump and groove under her palms.
Espen stepped closer. Closer again.
Sloan swung the club as hard as possible, ignoring the fiery pain in her side. Muscles and bruising be damned. She had a partner to save.
Wood and skull connected with a sickening thud that carried her forward a stumbling step. Espen went down with a groan.
She toed at him with her bare foot. His head rolled to the side with like a puppet cut from its strings. A quick pat down showed nothing of value she could use to restrain him. No gun, either. Fucker must have stashed it somewhere. Balls.
Straightening, Sloan quickly retraced Espen’s steps. She didn’t know how long he’d stay out. She had to find August and get out of the woods. No leaving a man behind.
Her stomach dipped at the sight of August in the middle of a small clearing. His eyes were wide with shock and he kept his hands pressed to his leg as he tried to scoot through the dirt. Red dampened his pants and seeped down one ear.
Sloan jogged the rest of the way to him and knelt at his side. “August, come on.” She pulled on his arm and groaned when her side protested. At least there weren’t any stitches to reopen. A little pain was survivable. “Time to shift.”
“Fucker shot me full of silver.” August clenched his teeth. The hand pressed to his leg seeped with blood. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Don’t give me that crap. You’re going to fight through this. Would Alicia want anything different?” Okay, no big, badass animal to protect them. No weapon. Just bare hands, bare feet, and a man losing more blood than she was comfortable seeing.
Think, Sloan. Think.
She could tie something around his leg to slow the flow of blood. Find a big stick to use as a crutch and help him hobble back to her cabin. They could hole up once inside and wait for backup to track the fucker and lock him up.
August jerked his attention over her shoulder and she knew they were caught.
Sloan rose to her knees and raised her hands. Each step Espen took to stand in front of her sounded like a death knell.
She lifted her chin and met his beady eyes. She would not die at the hands of a rat-faced asshole filled with more hate than good sense. She wouldn’t drag August down with her, either. They both had too much to live for.
Lorne’s face flashed through her mind. She refused to let the memory of him be the last contact they had.
“Let us go,” she said flatly.
“Neither of you are going anywhere,” Espen answered with a smirk.
“Think about this, John.” His name tasted like ashes. She used it anyway. If she could get through to the humane side of him, maybe she could buy them time or walk out of the woods all holding hands and agreeing to meet up for milkshakes later. She’d break bread with just about anyone if they changed their mind about murdering her. “Really think hard. You’re in the middle of shifter territory. Someone will track you down and pin this on you. There’s no going back to your regular work.”
“You think I don’t know that? This has all been arranged. Once you’re out of the way, I’m off to a cozy island where I’ll sip drinks out of coconuts and fuck the natives till I’m dead.”
Gross, but okay. That spoke volumes. Fuck him, and Jimmy, and all the other assholes in the Agency who wanted a pure, human world. Change happened. If their tiny little dicks couldn’t deal, they were the problem. Not her, and definitely not August.
“Supposed to be a quick, in and out. Jimmy wanted you brought as low as you pushed him. What better way than to see you take the fall for the same shit he did? You with your fucking bleeding heart for these animals.”
Espen gestured at August with a dangerous lack of trigger discipline. Sloan resisted the urge to jerk to the side and cover him from every possible angle. The sharp movement was more likely to set Espen off than prevent more injuries.
“Maybe I should just let him maul you. Give him a fighting chance. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, animal?” Espen tossed a gun between them. He jerked his chin at Sloan. “Pick it up. Fitting, you killing him with his own service weapon.”
She shook her head hard enough to rattle. “Just think for a minute,” she pleaded again.
Espen fired a round into the ground near August’s leg. “I said pick it up!”
Fuck. Shit. Damn.
Hands shaking, Sloan inched forward and wrapped her fingers around the weapon.
“You point that at me, your friend will have his brains splattered in an instant.” Espen took a step closer to August and lined up his shot.
“Going off script, aren’t you?” New tactic. Appealing to his sense of good didn’t work. “Jimmy never liked it when I didn’t listen to him exactly.”
True. Red flags were planted over every inch of the man’s body. She was certain the victim she saw wasn’t his first. He was still searching for more, even while he served out his prison sentence.
Espen narrowed his eyes. “Fight, or I find every single person you care about and bleed them slowly before they die.” His lips lifted in another smirk like he relished the idea. “You, Snitch Bitch, there’s that whole ranch. You fucking them all, or just the mopey one?”
The smirk filled Sloan with fury. Hurt her, fine. She pissed off the wrong people. Drag an innocent man into the mess? She’d do her best to make sure he never saw the outside of a cell again.
“And you, animal. Your animal kids and animal wife have enough in ‘em to paint a whole fuckin’ house.”
August snapped his eyes to Espen and snarled.
All the moments of her life piled up. The good, the bad, and all the grays in the middle. She’d tried to live by a code. Everyone deserved a chance until they didn’t, and even after they blew it, they had ways to balance the scales. Justice existed for everyone. She’d devoted herself to the idea.
Would
her father have been proud?
Would Lorne?
Her heart cracked open at the thought of the man. They were so close to jumping into something big. He’d changed her world, mucked it up and made it better all at once.
Unfair. Unfair that she’d been pushed to Bearden in the first place. Unfair that it was being ripped away from her when she wanted to make it her home.
Sloan shook her head again. “No. No, I won’t do it. Kill me yourself. I won’t play your dirty games.”
“You do it. Do it right now! You kill him, and you pay like Jimmy. He kills you, you pay and we show the world how fucking dangerous these abominations really are. Do it!”
August canted his head slightly. His eyes jerked to the side and away from Espen.
Sloan stilled and tried to listen over the man’s continued ranting. It was a struggle; the sounds were almost too quiet to hear. But she trusted August’s enhanced senses. If he tried to signal something to her, it was there.
Finally, just as Espen seemed to wind down into more orders to put on his own personal fucked up fight club, she heard it. Rustles of clothing and cracks of branches underfoot.
Glowing eyes surrounded them.
She never knew such relief as seeing a pack of wild animals running amongst humans armed to the teeth. The order for silence ended as soon as they were spotted, growls and snarls filling up the woods.
“No!” Espen yelled. He fired into the oncoming rush over his shoulder as he tried to run.
Sloan took careful aim and fired the gun he’d given to her to shoot August.
Espen toppled to the ground with a harsh scream and groped at the new hole in his ass.
Sloan sagged, gun falling from her hands. Then strong arms wrapped around her. Lorne. The mix of earthy cologne and manly scent filled her nose as the shock of the entire ordeal coursed through her body in wave after wave of uncontrolled shaking.
Lorne cradled her close to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him as hard as she could manage.
August, supported by Crewe, hobbled to Espen and kicked him hard in the side. “No one threatens my family,” he snarled and let loose another savage kick.
Sloan turned her face and pressed closer to Lorne. “You came,” she mumbled against his neck.
“Of course I did. I couldn’t let you get in trouble by yourself.” He cupped the back of her head and stroked a hand over her hair. “Tough Sloan. Such a fighter.”
She huffed a laugh. “I don’t feel like much of one. I just… ran. Ran and hid and did what I could to save August.”
“Sometimes surviving is all you can do.” He stroked a hand down her hair again. Amusement colored his voice when he spoke again. “And sometimes you can shoot the fuckers in the ass and make them pay for kicking you down.”
“Kent!” Crewe shouted from across the clearing. August still leaned against him. “No sneaking off until I get your report!”
Sloan clung to Lorne for a second more. He came for her. No rebuke for getting in trouble on his lips, just simple support as soon as he had her in his arms. That was the care she wanted from a partner. He had her back.
Life had a way of changing in the blink of an eye. She never expected to find her partner drawing blood or to be shunted aside for standing up for what was right. One moment changed her life forever and pushed her down a path she never imagined for herself, and now couldn’t imagine changing.
The jittery shakes disappeared by the time she let Lorne help her to her feet. “Right away, sir.”
And then home. With Lorne.
Chapter 23
Hours of questions and answers and more questions left Sloan exhausted by the time Lorne finally killed the engine of his truck in front of his little house on Black Claw Ranch.
Lights twinkled in at least one window of every home, no doubt waiting for them to return and give a full accounting of her ordeal. Sloan wanted nothing to do with more questions, and everything to do with the man holding her hand like he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.
He’d been quiet through it all. Not even a growl rattled in his chest as she was taken into back rooms, then told to wait, taken again, then ordered to keep waiting. Something was bursting inside the man, but he’d kept it all contained while around her squad.
She appreciated that. Maybe it was because of the mate bonds and the instinctive natures of their inner animals, but the shifters were more acquainted and patient with the protective concern of their homes. They didn’t talk shit about worrying husbands and wives the same way humans did. Still, Lorne held his tongue and waited for that part of her day to end before he loomed large in the other part of her life.
Sloan held her breath as he helped her out of his truck and they made their way into his home. She didn’t know what to expect from him. She had her hopes, after their last big talk, but he was facing the realities of her job once more.
Lorne leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “I was worried today,” he said, voice rough.
He watched her with hungry eyes, the gaze of a man who’d accepted every part of her and wasn’t running.
“Of what?”
“I didn’t want you hurt.”
Heat whipped through Sloan’s body under his scrutiny. Too hot. Much too hot.
She peeled off the top she’d taken from her locker at the SEA field office, leaving her in the dirty tank top of the ordeal. August’s blood still stained the hem. She held back most of her wince, but that was enough to drag Lorne’s attention from her face and down her body.
“I can take care of myself,” she said defensively.
“Didn’t say I doubted you,” he shot back, taking a step towards her.
Gold churned in the eyes he raised to her face and Sloan inhaled sharply. She held his gaze; no desire to look away existed. She was as caught in his look as she’d been caught in danger that afternoon. The edges of her vision darkened as her focus tunneled in on her shifter.
Hers.
Her chest rose, her nostrils flaring as his scent surrounded her, almost as if she had his better senses. Earthy, rich, slightly sharp scent of a male always just a little on edge.
Lorne had an unhappy past that left him a little wild and rough around the edges. That hint of unpredictability and danger didn’t frighten her. She wanted to lash herself to him.
“And now?” Sheer force of will kept her voice steady. She needed his answer like it was air and food. The next words out of his mouth would be ones that determined her future. She would live or die by them.
Sloan leaned back, fingers gripping the edge of the table. His hands settled on either side of hers as his body leaned her backward, the small of her back curving, head lolling to the side as his mouth nuzzled her collarbone and a shiver rolled through her.
“Now,” he replied in a whisper, “I’m just afraid of not living my entire life with you. I’m afraid of not living up to your standards.”
“My standards? I have none, according to former Agent John Espen.”
Lorne snorted. “I’m sure Agent August Snow would vehemently disagree.”
Her breath caught with his slight growl, and released when his teeth nipped at her neck. She’d have a nice blemish there come morning, but it was only a superficial mark.
Not a claiming bite. Not yet.
“You amazed me today, Sloan.” Lorne’s arms wrapped around her waist as he hoisted her gently onto the table. “I don’t doubt that you’ll keep amazing me. Forever.”
The word sounded like a vow, and a warning. She let go of the table, let go of any lingering doubts, and buried her hands in his hair.
Rough man. Protective man. Her man. Her bear.
“Is that a promise?”
The gold of his eyes brightened. “Do you want it to be?”
“After today? After everything?” Her lips twitched in a smile. “Damn straight.”
A moment of stillness washed over them. He studied her, she watched him
.
A heartbeat.
Another.
She was certain, as certain as she would ever be about anything. Punishment brought her to Bearden, but Lorne made her want to stay. She’d been challenged right alongside him, she saw how small she was in the overwhelming shittiness of revenge and payback, but she still made a difference.
She couldn’t have done it without Lorne, or his clan, or her new squad. Each one offered her a lesson on letting others guard her back. They gave her strength to keep trying to make the world a better place, one righted wrong at a time.
Lorne had been the last face to roll through her mind when she thought hers over. Her stomach ached at the remembered sense of loss. If there was ever a lesson learned in a wild chase through the woods by an enemy sent to frame her up for murder, it was to hold those dear to her heart close.
“You already told me I was your mate. I want to make it fact.”
“I’m no good for you.”
“You were there when I needed you. As much as you pretend not to care for others, you have a streak of caring a mile wide.”
“And an unsavory past.”
“Who doesn’t have to fend off murderous relatives and ex-coworkers?” Sloan shrugged off the hurt. “We match. We’re fighters. They didn’t change us for the worse. That’s what counts.”
Pride lit up his eyes. “You never lose an opportunity to make the world better, do you? I think I love your optimism the most.” His palms skimmed up her sides, barely touching her. “You’re still hurt,” he said carefully.
Sloan swallowed hard. Her heart thundered in her chest. “So be gentle.”
His strength, the speed with which he snatched her off the table and into his arms, still stunned her. The hallway was a blur as Lorne killed the steps between them and his bedroom. Theirs, now, maybe. Details to worry about in the morning.
After the weeks, the evening they’d had, she was still on edge. She wanted to pace and fight. Maybe she was more like a shifter than human in that regard. Her blood was up. The energy needed to go somewhere.
The wood floor didn’t creak under the predatory grace of his stride. Inside the bedroom, he lowered her to the bed, the worn cotton of the comforter soft under her skin. Here, in his den, his scent filled her nose. It smelled like life and laughter and a future that wouldn’t slip through her fingers.
Breaking Fate: Book Three: Black Claw Ranch Page 18
