Claimed by the New Alpha
Page 94
“I hate being right,” Elie murmured.
The time was two in the morning. The moon had crested the horizon four hours ago, which meant that Jake had been in bear form for half the night already. He’d stay that way until he was exhausted or until the sun came up, whichever happened first, or so he had said. Elie looked at her phone for the time once more. The sun wouldn’t rise for another four hours at least.
Jake should have met up with the hunters. When Elie left the Framer’s and cruised back through town, she drove by several unfamiliar trucks with the Colorado Fish and Game seal on the doors. What seemed like dozens of trained professionals were setting up base camp outside town already.
They didn’t want to kill him or chase him off, Jonny had explained excitedly. They were going to catch the beast. Shoot him full of enough ketamine to knock out a whale, and drag him off to a safer habitat. They were going to corner him in a gorge, and see to it he went to live somewhere more peaceful.
Elie banged her hands on the steering wheel. Terror shot through her veins like lightning. Would tranquilizers work on a werebear? If they did, Jake would surely turn human again, wouldn’t he? If he did, and there were enough downers in his system to put a full-grown grizzly to sleep, would he even survive? And if he did, what then? His secret would be out.
So here she was, sitting outside the mill, the town’s lifeblood, planning something excruciatingly stupid.
No one was here. The mill was on the east side of town, and the bear hunt was happening throughout the west. Elie got out of the Outback and ran inside. She knew what she needed, thanks to CSI. A number of spare extension cords were left simply lying around; she grabbed the longest and trailed it to an exterior outlet. The farthest, most isolated one she could find.
The end of the extension cord, she hacked at with a shovel. When the glimmer of copper wire showed through, she took the shovel and found a likely-look heap of sawdust.
“Here goes my ass,” she muttered, shoveling sawdust through the air like confetti or fake snow. It fell slowly to the ground, catching the sparse light. It was probably her imagination, but she could almost hear them on the other side of town, chasing Jake. Was he still alive? Had they caught him already?
When she was coughing sawdust, Elie ran out front. She crouched behind the Outback, which she had parked next to the outlet farthest from the mill.
“I sure hope this place has good insurance,” Elie moaned. “Sorry in advance, Dad.”
She plugged in the extension cord.
Nothing. Just dark, still, night. Elie peered over the hood of her car.
Somewhere in the mill’s depths, the stars aligned and a spark caught the floating particles of dust—the explosion was spectacular.
It lit the night like dawn. A deafening boom, like being inside a drum, filled the air with almost physical presence, as heat shoved the world aside to make a place for the blossoming column of fire that unfurled from the mill’s ruined roof.
Even hiding behind the car, Elie was thrown backwards. Her ears rang. Had she turned herself deaf?
Then the debris started to fall. Elie scrambled back inside the Outback and swerved out of the mill lot. Everyone in Colorado must’ve heard that, much less Hemford. They’d be showing up any second, and whatever else happened, she mustn’t be here at the scene of the crime when they arrived.
She took the long way around to reach the base of operations. It had worked, to her relief. Everyone from Hemford was streaming back through town towards the mill, to save what they could. The fire siren wailed pitifully, and Elie watched it go, relieved.
“How far’d you guys get?” she asked a Fish and Game hat. He sighed.
“We almost had him. This is one smart bear, but we almost cornered him—then he slipped out, headed toward Utah, for how fast he was booking it.”
Elie’s heart leapt. He was headed towards the meeting place.
“That’s a shame,” she shrugged. “Next time, you’ll get him. He might have tried to respond, but Elie didn’t stay long enough to hear.
Chapter Fourteen
The sun was rising. On the western side of the Rockies, it would be dark for a while, yet. Elie locked the Outback and set off around the shower hut with a blanket and Jake’s pants. They had come here with friends a lifetime ago, and it seemed that she still knew the way.
There was a rocky little trail here. It led down into a gully, a pleasant little place to picnic and plan meetings of all kinds. Even this kind.
“Jake?” Elie called softly over the trickle of water. A stream that had broken off a larger river up the mountain came tumbling over a rock sheet here, forming a pool just deep enough to wade in before moving on.
By the pool, a still figure lay supine. Elie ran.
“Jake!”
At her yell, he opened his eyes. He hadn’t been shot, Elie was sure of that, at least. She scanned him with her eyes. He was dirty and scraped up, but seemed whole.
“Elie?”
“Jake, I think it worked,” she said as she covered him with the blanket. “Fish and Game thinks you ran to Utah. I think they might stop hunting you, now.”
“Elie,” he groaned weakly. “Did you blow up the mill?”
“Why… why do you ask?”
“I can still smell the burnt sawdust on the wind.”
She winced. “I’m sure the insurance will cover it, right?”
Jake closed his eyes. “Looks like I’m laid off for a while.”
“Jake,” she murmured, “I thought you were dead, you idiot. You had me worried sick. They said they almost had you. Now can I say what I want to say?”
He shook his head. Elie smacked his shoulder lightly. “Why not?”
“It was me,” Jake whispered. His voice sounded like he’d eaten glass. He looked up at her. “I’m the one that killed my Mom.”
Elie stilled. “I… I know, Jake. I’m not an idiot. I can put two and two together.”
His jaw clenched as he watched her face. “It was an accident. It was the first time… and I couldn’t control it back then.”
Elie shushed him. The sun was finally touching the treetops overhead. It would be full daylight by the time they got back to Hemford. “Jake, you can’t hold on to that, and you can’t expect me to hold on to that.”
“I just wanted you to know,” he went on. “It was the only thing I hadn’t told you. I needed you to know.”
“Well, I know,” she agreed. Elie leaned down and kissed him. “And I love you, still. Now let’s go home, I hear there’s been an explosion at the mill.”
Epilogue
It was enrollment day.
Elie looked up at her school doubtfully.
“Might as well get this over with,” she said. She turned to Jake, who was sitting in the passenger seat. “You sure you don’t want to go back to Hemford?”
He shrugged. “Until they rebuild that mill, I’m out of a job. I might as well live up here with you, pick up some work on the side. It’s only fair you should put me up, since you’re the one who made me unemployed.” He grinned at her through his beard, and Elie shoved him.
“Fine, fine.” They got out of the car. Elie carried a bag today, full of papers. She hated paperwork, but it was a necessary evil. “It’s only two more semesters.”
“You were thinking of quitting with only two more semesters to ‘til your BS?”
“It took me seven years to get this far.”
“Oh.” Jake put an arm around her waist as they walked through the entryway. “Well, hopefully this’ll only take one more. Then you can start your career as a social worker, or whatever you had in mind.”
Elie nodded. “I was thinking along those lines. But maybe I should consider a major switch.”
Jake scoffed. “To what?”
“How about veterinary assistant?”
They entered a crowd of students then, so Jake had to satisfy himself with the knowledge that he’d make her pay for that remark later, once they got
back to her apartment.
He smiled and hoped her housing had thick walls.
THE END
MOST VALUABLE PANTHER
STORY DESCRIPTION
Kristin Walker and Derrick Wellborn were childhood sweethearts, first loves, until their parents had a vicious falling out over some mysterious offense. Next thing they knew, their parents had separated them, moved to opposite coasts, and forbade them from having any contact.
Derrick, a cunning and focused panther shifter, is now a pro-football player with a body to kill for and eyes so blue they could make the sky jealous, and Kristin is a bold and curvy sports doctor.
When Kristin accepts her dream job with the Washington Peregrines, she is shocked to the core to find that the sexiest, most eligible bachelor in sports, Derrick Wellborn, has just been traded by New York…. to the Peregrines. What’s more, he has never forgotten her either.
When Derrick threatens to break Randy Wolfe's world record for rushing yards, Kristin’s life becomes seriously imperiled.
Will Derrick risk his entire career to keep Kristin safe?
Can Derrick and Kristin’s parents put aside their differences to save their children?
Chapter 1
"Derrick! Derrick! Over here!"
Derrick Wellborn looked up from the strings he was tying on his cleats into the flash of a camera. It stung his eyes for a second as a thousand flashes went off at once, then he smiled. His perfect white teeth glimmered for the cameras, and one lucky photographer caught the crowning cover shot, with Derrick's midnight colored hair swept back across his forehead and his tanned, toned skin looking like he'd just arrived at the stadium by tropical island ferry instead of a New York subway.
The cameras flashed again and Derrick turned towards them so they could get a better shot. Whoever said quarterbacks got all the glory never met him. This was one of the things Derrick loved most about playing football.
Reporters shouted all around him. "Derrick! How does it feel to be going up against Randy Wolfe today? Are you nervous?"
Derrick shook his head, already forming the words in his mouth. "No, no, it's all just a part of the game. You know." He smiled sheepishly, trying to look humble. He knew Randy Wolfe was about to get crushed. He was getting closer to tying Randy's rushing record—the all-time best in NFL history. If it didn't happen this game, it was gonna be soon.
"Derrick, you're only twenty yards out from joining the 2,000 Yard Club. Think you can conquer Randy's personal best after that? Set a new world record?"
Derrick grinned and shrugged.
A girl of twenty with bleach blonde hair and a big rack that she'd squeezed into a child's size pink halter top broke through the reporters and threw her arms around Derrick. She smacked her lips hard against his and ran her fingers through his hair. Derrick smiled wide. This was another thing he loved about being a superstar NFL player. He got all the girls he wanted, and man did he want them all.
A picture of his childhood sweetheart flashed through his mind, almost ruining the kiss the blonde with the rack was trying to plant on him again. He pushed Kristin from his head, like he always did. Maybe later he'd let himself think about her, just a little. If they won the game tonight and he broke Wolfe's record, there would be so much celebrating Derrick doubted that he'd remember to think about anything other than the trophies he was sure to get and the multitude of women who were bound to throw themselves at him.
"Derrick—"
"Sorry guys, game's on. I gotta go," he waved his hand in the air.
His legs got the twitch that they always did right before a game. The last—but not the least—thing Derrick loved about being a running back was the running. The panther in him longed to race across the field, breathe in the grass, and outrun everyone around him. He'd get to the end zone well ahead of them all and score the final touchdown. Tonight would be no different, except he'd finally have his chance to run against Randy Wolfe. He didn't bear Randy any ill will, the wolf was not the natural enemy of the panther, it was only that Derrick liked taking down the best. And the best meant Randy.
"Just one last question Derrick!" He turned his head towards the cute brunette who was waving her hand wildly in the air, the lone woman in a sea of testosterone. He shot her a smile and pointed towards her.
"Last one pretty lady, go ahead."
She flashed him a smile with pink lips and bright blue eyes that made Derrick's heart race. The cute ones always did. "Are there any truth to the rumors you're getting traded?"
Derrick shook his head. "No way. New York's been my home since I was fifteen. I'm twenty-eight now. I'm not going anywhere."
***
Kristen ran her hand over Burt Young's knee. He twiddled his thumbs and refused to watch while she worked. Kristen didn't need to be telepathic, like her parents claimed to be, to know what he was feeling. His body shook with nervous energy and his eyes were wet.
"It's okay," she assured him. "Just an isolated sprain of the medial collateral ligament." Burt stared at her blankly. "That means you didn't tear it." She smiled as his shoulders relaxed.
"Thank God." He blew a steady stream of air from his lungs and hunched over, his head in his hands. "How long? Tell it to me straight."
"I don't think the sprain is very bad." Kristen put one hand behind his neck and gave it a little squeeze. "Stay off it for a few days and you'll be back in the next game."
She thought he might cry for a second—sometimes football players did when they thought they were out for the season—but then his head whipped up with confused happiness. "The next game...? The next game...?" It took a minute for it all to sink it, and Kristin gave him that minute. She was used to this—at least this time the news was good. Not all players were so lucky. Football was the toughest of all sports on a person's body.
"Woohoo!" Burt jumped off the exam table, balanced himself on one leg, and grabbed Kristen around the waist. He picked her up and spun her around the room before setting her back down.
"Thanks Doc! You're the best damn doctor we ever had here."
Kristen blushed. The red in her cheeks almost matched her hair. It was nice knowing that even though she'd never be a football player herself, at least she was still contributing to the game. Her phone buzzed in her pocket but she didn't pull it out.
"Remember what I said," she told Burt. "Off of it for at least three days. I'll get you some crutches from the back. Use them."
"Anything you say Doc."
His smile was so wide she thought it might spread off his face, like an overdrawn cartoon character. It made her think of Derrick... the wide smile he used to give her when he'd pick her hand off the sand before holding it to his face. They were inseparable from the time they were five and had moved in next door to each other, until the time they were fifteen and they'd been ripped apart. That was thirteen years ago. She was twenty-eight. He was famous. And a millionaire. Any chance they'd had together ended long ago with the mysterious falling out of their parents.
Kristin had cried, screamed, pouted and begged her mom and dad for some sort of explanation till she was blue in the face. All her mom would say was, "Sometimes things just happen." As if that explained the sudden departure of Derrick's family not just from Los Angeles, but from their lives. From her life. Eventually, Kristen had given up asking.
She was sure Derrick didn't even remember her now. She saw the tabloids in the grocery stores like everyone else. And lately it seemed like every time she turned on her computer a new photo was splashed across the screen with a picture of Derrick and his latest squeeze toy. Kristin's round curves and voluptuous body wouldn't even fit on the cover of a magazine, but she didn't care. She’d never wanted to be rail-thin like a stick figure—like the girls she saw Derrick with. She was satisfied with her full breasts and thick curves.
"Be right back," she told Burt when she realized she was still standing there.
When Kristin was alone she took her phone from her pocket and unlocked her scree
n. A new message icon displayed across the LED.
She scrolled through the email. It took forever for the general manager to get to his point... Think you'd fit into the team nicely. Welcome aboard!
Kristin almost ran back to Burt without the crutches and picked him up as he'd done to her. She couldn't believe it. Finally! The Peregrines! When she stepped back into the room her grin was even wider than Burt's.
Chapter 2
Derrick stepped into the locker room of the Peregrines still livid at the trade. They'd done it behind his back. And fast too. Yesterday, New York and hot dogs, today Washington state and rain. It hadn't even broken in the papers yet. How the teams kept this a secret was beyond him. The Peregrine’s got him, his old New York team—the one he'd been with since starting in pro-football—had gotten three of the Peregrine's best. Three players for one Derrick. He should've felt honored, but all he felt was betrayed.
He wondered if this was how Randy Wolfe felt when the Peregrines traded him to the Broncos last year. Randy had been with this team since starting pro himself. He knew Randy still had a house around here somewhere. Maybe it was for sale.
The guys in the locker room introduced themselves as he came in, slapping his hand and pointing out his locker. Derrick opened it and five gallons of strawberry Jell-O fell onto his shoes and rolled over the floor. Derrick smiled. If this was how the guys were gonna treat him on the first day, they were probably alright.
One of the guys, Tate Edwards, waved a newspaper high in the air and started reading in a high pitched sing-song voice:
"Derrick Wellborn, arguably the best running back in NFL history, has just become the eighth member of the NFL's 2,000 Yard Club after surpassing 2,000 rushing yards this season. Randy Wolfe had this to say..." Here Tate changed his voice to a deep growl. "'He might be good, but he's not the best. He can try and beat me all he wants, but he'll always be trailing behind eating dust.'"