by Claire Ryann
"Few days, why?" Kara looked up at him.
"Cuz you're looking at your dashboard like you've never seen it before," Lowell laughed. It was a deep rumble through his chest that curled her toes. She liked the way it sounded when he laughed but the fact that he'd noticed her confusion set her teeth on edge.
"Heh," Kara forced a laugh, "It's my friend's car," she was pretty proud of herself for coming up with a cover story on the quick, "I don't have four wheel drive. For the snow." She hoped she sounded like she knew what the hell she was talking about.
"Oh, that makes sense," Lowell grinned, "you sure you know how it works then?" He nodded toward the transfer case shifter.
The quirk of Kara's lips was genuine, driving in snow was something she had plenty of practice with. She slipped the car into low gear and pulled the transfer case out of neutral, "Don't worry, I got this."
She was pretty sure Lowell looked impressed as he buckled his seat belt. She just wasn't used to seeing that look aimed at her.
Kara tried to keep the movement of her hips invisible as she wiggled in her seat.
She was in no position to adopt a stray right now. No matter how strong those arms were or how sexy that little dimple by the corner of his mouth was or how amazingly hot he would look with his shirt off or-- Kara's mouth went dry as she let her eyes dart to the bulge that casually shaped the fabric of his jeans along the side of the zipper-- no matter how good it would feel to have a man who wanted her again.
She really needed to get rid of this guy before he ruined her chances.
***
She'd pulled into the first gas station she'd found and Lowell had immediately jumped out and worked the pump for her while she went inside took care of the bill after a brief argument over who was paying. It had been a moment of truth for Ms. Monica Brewer as she handed over the credit card.
It was supposed to be activated and have an available balance sufficient to cover gas, food, and lodging to get her to the safe house in Florida. There was also a few grand in US cash stashed with her new identity.
The gas station attendant ran her credit card while she held her breath. Would it go through? Would anything be suspicious? Would he ask to see her ID? Would the Florida driver's license arouse suspicion? Would he ask questions that could out her as a fraud? She'd never actually been to Florida. The only thing she knew about her "home town" of Sanford, Florida was what she had learned from Internet research and a virtual tour courtesy of Google's Streetview cameras.
Kara breathed a sigh of relief as the clerk slide her card and the receipt across the counter with a bored expression.
Kara stared at the receipt. She had to sign it. Of course, duh. She reached for a pen and put extra effort into her signature. Monica Brewer. She wrote each letter carefully in her flowery handwriting and smiled up at the clerk as she handed it back.
The clerk just slid the paper into his register drawer and wordlessly returned to the book he had been reading when she'd walked in.
Kara was busy thinking about the next time she signed her new name as she left the tiny convenience store and walked back out to the gas pumps. Next time she was going to sign it fast and messy. Make it look like she'd been writing that name all her life.
She looked up to see Lowell washing her windshield.
A man should not look that good doing such a mundane thing as washing a damn windshield, she thought but he did. Oh glory, he did.
Kara stopped in her tracks and watched. The SUV was a non-descript dark blue soccer mom model. It looked like a thousand other SUVs on the American road, and that was the plan. It had running boards with textured, non-slip steps built into them and Lowell was standing on the one that ran just under the doors on the driver's side of the car. His right hand gripped the rail of the roof rack and his left hand was running the rubber blade of a squeegee over the windshield.
This was a show worthy of an admission price and popcorn, Kara thought. His thigh muscles flexed under the relaxed fit of his worn jeans as he balanced his weight on his legs, his injured hand now cleaned and bandaged as he held the roof rack with the tips of his fingers.
He was so big, he hardly had to bend at all to reach the short-handled tool all the way across the car's front window. But he was putting his whole body into the job anyway. Relaxed and languid movements as his left arm reached across, causing his entire upper arm to move with the motion, his shoulder muscles stretched and then rolled as he pulled the squeegee across the glass toward him.
The flannel shirt was pulled tight across his arms and shoulders but it hung loose as it draped lower over his back and covered the lats that she was sure would have been every bit as entertaining to watch.
He leaned forward for another swipe to remove the last of the soapy water off the glass. The hem of the flannel shirt lifted and got caught by the light breeze revealing his perfect ass. A glimpse of skin appeared just above the low slung waist band of his jeans and then was hidden again but not before she had a chance to imagine what those glutes would feel like in her palms.
She really needed to stop watching him. Not because she felt guilty, she just knew she had to walk away from this temptation. The longer she spent with Lowell, the more comfortable she was becoming with him. The more comfortable she got, the more she let her guard down, and the more she let her guard down the more chance she had of her careful plans turning to dust.
Consequences for herself would be bad enough if she got caught but the organization that was helping her had taken a huge risk for her. Most of their clients weren't running from someone as rich and connected as Anthony.
If Kara got caught, it would expose them too and that would end hope for a lot of other women and children.
Kara set her jaw and made her decision. She drank in another longing look at Lowell's body, imagining the way those muscles would feel as they worked the stress from her body. She'd use the memory later to release some of her own tension.
But it was time to leave Lowell behind. In Kara's past. He had no place in Monica's future.
6
On some level, Lowell understood that he couldn't ride with her forever. He'd already tagged along for a couple hundred miles out of his way just so he could sit beside her eagerly anticipating every word that she offered him, wishing she would open up to him.
They'd driven for a few hours before they'd come to this place. There was a sign on the road with a name that said this was a town but it didn't offer much in the way of civilization. It was a tiny store with a diner attached to one end and 2 gas pumps in front. There was a motel across the street. A single building with 5 doors facing the road in a row, separated by bland square windows.
The parking spaces in front of the diner were filled by a handful of motorcycles and 2 semi trucks pulling double trailers sat in the dirt lot to the far side.
"So I guess you'll be heading out now?" Lowell asked, stalling for just a few more minutes of her time.
Kara shook her head, "I think I'm going to head across the street and see if they have a room for the night. Then I'm just going to grab some dinner. I'm looking forward to a hot shower and real food."
The high coloring from the brittle cold in the mountains had left her face but her lips were still an entirely too tempting shade of deep rose. Lowell found himself idly wondering if her areolas matched and he felt the tug of his cock against his jeans again.
Damn, this girl got to him.
"OK, well, I'll call and get the guys to pick me up while you grab a room. How bout I meet you back at the diner and buy you dinner?" Lowell would have preferred to make her dinner. First she would be dinner and then he could make dinner for her. He really had to stop picturing her naked.
He watched her eyes lower and a hint of pink stain her cheeks. Little clues like that were usually accompanied by the sweet blossom of arousal. It would have been a dead giveaway that he was free to invite himself to share that room but without that telling scent he was stumbling blind. She could s
imply be shy. Or she could be feeling guilty for leaving him stranded. Or she could be awkwardly trying to come up with an excuse to get out of having dinner with him.
Damn, he missed his sense of smell.
"OK," those eyes were all violet again under her black lashes as she tentatively agreed, "I'll meet you back here, I guess."
That little quirk of her lips that wasn't quite a smile tugged at his heart, and his cock, as he watched her maneuver the SUV across the road and into one of the spaces in front of the motel across the street.
Damn. That girl. Just. Damn.
Lowell broke himself out of his increasingly rich fantasy life and headed for the pay phone outside the coffee shop. Good thing he had his wallet with him, he realized as he scrutinized the directions for making a call.
The pack had started its policy of sending the younger generations out into the modern world sometime in the late 50s. Lowell and his friends had been among the first to leave the den under the new program.
Weres had long lifespans and they aged and matured differently than humans. The pack sent their youth out once they hit adulthood sometime between 25 and 50. Each pack member was required to leave the den for at least 4 years. Attend college, get a job, experience life in their human skin and learn what it was like to live among humans in their own world on their own terms.
Some of the wolves returned to the den as soon as possible. Eager to get back on familiar ground where they were safe to shift. Many of them stayed away longer though, especially the newest generation.
Lowell thought of the kid. Damn kid. He'd left the den early, at 20, after a fight with the new alpha-- Daelan-- that would have ended badly for the stupid kid if Day had taken his challenge seriously. Then the kid just disappeared for 20 years. Only returning to the den to help out when his father died a few years ago.
He was a bright kid but he was stubborn. If he could just find his place in the pack, he could have a good future in Day's team. He just needed some sense knocked into him. Lowell and the guys had done plenty of knocking on that kid's thick skull but so far, it hadn't done any good.
Lowell himself had stuck by Day's side all through college. Then Day had gone on to graduate school and more graduate school while Lowell had ended up wasting a few years with a human girlfriend while he hopped from job to job.
Turned out he didn't love the corporate world of white collar work that his degree in business had led him to. He preferred working outdoors, using his hands, feeling his muscles sore at the end of the day to remind him of what he'd accomplished.
He had enjoyed his years in the humans' world, working in construction, drinking beer and watching sports while bedding human women. It had been a fine life till nature and duty called him back to the pack after the death of the old Alpha.
The pack had voted to promote Day to his father's station and Day was Lowell's best friend. Day wanted to continue his father's plans to bring the pack into the 21st century and that had meant he needed support. Support from his inner circle, the men who had already been out there, who could bring skills back to the pack to help modernize their housing and develop a business plan for the pack. The men who were young enough to embrace change while still being old enough to respect tradition.
Lowell had adapted well to ways of humans. It had just taken him a long time to remember to keep his wallet on him.
He breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled the worn leather bill fold out of his back pocket and punched in the numbers on his credit card to dial the den's main office.
Shit. Was that the right number to call?
Cell phones didn't work up at the den. They had plans to put in a tower eventually but jumping through the hoops had turned out to be more complicated than they'd been willing to deal with for the time being. He was pretty sure calling Ming or Kenny directly wasn't likely to do him much good.
He had no idea what was going on back home. Yesterday Rek had been the acting Alpha. The last thing Lowell had seen was a pretty gruesome picture and he was sure that no matter what happened when the others arrived back at the den, the pack was going to be shook up for weeks.
"Lowell." He said simply as soon as someone picked up the land line in the office.
"Heya Lowe," the kid's chipper voice greeted him on the other end of the line.
"What are you doing answering the phone?" Lowell forgot he needed to play it cool. Yesterday they'd all been on the same side-- with the notable exception of Ruelle-- but today would be different. Today there would be chaos in the den as decisions were made whether Daelan would be reinstated as Alpha, whether Rek would be required to challenge him properly for the position, or whether they were all facing exile or execution for their actions against the small team of elders-- and Ruelle, Lowell's wolf growled low-- who had killed the Alpha's mate for no greater crime than being human.
Lowell checked his attitude and took a breath. The kid had been on their side and he was answering the office phone. This could be a good sign.
"Glad you're alive, bro," the voice on the other end of the line was only partly sarcastic, "Dude this place is kinda crazy right now, I don't have time to talk dirty to you, where are you? You need a ride?"
Lowell turned looked around him. Yeah, where was he? Shit. "I don't have a fucking clue where this place is. I'm not even sure this road is on a map."
"Gonna make it harder to come get ya," the kid taunted.
"But things are OK there?" Lowell was suddenly intensely curious about what was happening back home. He was ashamed to admit that he'd been thinking about Kara's ass more than his own pack.
"Meh, OK is kinda relative, but Rek's handling shit for now. You want the guys to come get you or not?"
"Yeah, that'd be great, Kid, if you can find me."
"Well figure out where you are and call me back." The line went dead with sound of an old fashioned corded desk phone being dropped back on its cradle.
Lowell shook his head as he pushed open the door to the small diner adjacent to the gas station. At least he wouldn't be returning to a death squad when he got back but if Rek was still in charge that meant Day was either unfit to lead or had been taken out of the running.
Memories of Haley's body lying lifeless in the snow under Ruelle's wolf flashed in his mind's eye. He couldn't fathom what kind of pain his friend must be in. It was entirely understandable if Day wasn't willing-- or able-- to return to power, but if Rek had fought him and won. A shudder ran through Lowell as he took a seat at the counter. It was going to be a whole new pack that he was headed back to. First Ruelle. Then Rek. Their unbreakable circle seemed to be coming apart.
The waitress filled the coffee cup in front of him without asking first. Lowell started at the inky black liquid in the cup and wished he had something stronger to drink than concentrated truck stop coffee.
7
The shower was amazing. Kara had stood under the hot water and let it wash away a week of hard travel through snow and mud. Then she'd turned around and let it wash away a year of secrets and lies and planning and preparing and the bruises behind them all.
Anthony had found her 3 years ago, working in a coffee shop on the outskirts of Vancouver when she was barely 20 years old. Admitting to herself that she really had fallen hard for him so quickly turned her stomach now but it was true.
She'd never had a man as sophisticated as Anthony interested in her before. And he wasn't just after sex. He had been kind and patient and a total gentleman while he had courted her. He hadn't even slept with her till their wedding night even though she certainly hadn't been a virgin when she met him.
He hadn't cared about all that then, he'd picked her up off the floor of her self-esteem. Made her feel beautiful and worthy and rebuilt her as his fairy tale princess.
Anthony Loupohme. Playboy trust fund baby, heir to the Loupohme family fortune. He told the whole world that his wandering ways were over, that he'd found his true love and that Kara was that girl.
The fairy tale
had lasted till the marriage license was signed.
Their wedding night should have been her wake up call. After a lavish reception with the all-seeing eyes of the press had ended, the real party had started. Just her and Anthony and their closest friends. Letting their hair down and drinking entirely too much expensive champagne. Well, Anthony drank. He said he didn't like her when she was drunk, so she'd been careful not to have too much.
When they'd finally retired to their private suite, he had grabbed her roughly and spat insults in her face. Accusing her of wanting to sleep with his best man. Telling her that his friends wanted to fuck her and that it was her fault for flirting with them.
He'd pushed himself between her legs and left her with dark bruises on her thighs that never had the chance to fade.
From then on it had been an endless cycle of flowers and sweet kisses in the public eye and rough shoves and harsh words punctuated by sex that was always on his terms and left her unsatisfied and bruised in places that the paparazzi would never see.
Yet she had still craved his attention. She wanted the sweet, caring Anthony back and she did everything she could to please him. She dressed modestly so that Anthony wouldn't be humiliated by other men leering at her cleavage. She cut her hair and dyed her naturally raven tresses a platinum blonde that didn't suit her skin tone because Anthony thought she should look more like some famous actress or model or ex-girlfriend or whoever he was comparing her to at that time.
The Loupohme family was rich. Impossibly, unimaginably rich. One of those families that came from money so old it seemed like they may have actually invented the stuff themselves. The family kept a low profile, staying out of the spotlight and putting their efforts into making more money. Anthony had been the only grandson and eventual heir to his grandfather's position in the family business.
Anthony was also the only member of the family who loved basking in the limelight. He'd been enjoying a certain celebrity status in the gossip column world for years until his grandfather put his foot down and insisted that he settle down.
