Shifter Scandal

by Juniper Hart

  “It’s unbelievable,” Gabriella sighed. “If I hadn’t seen it…”

  “That is how we have managed to survive for centuries. We don’t leave witnesses.”

  A chill ran through her, but she stared at him steadily.

  “Why did you arrest me when you knew I didn’t do it?” she demanded. “How could you have me locked up like that if you claim to care about me?”

  Cameron’s eyes narrowed.

  “Don’t you see? I had to protect both of us. My pack was already suspicious about the way Andrew Bell died, and there was someone looking to kill you. Someone out there still wants you dead, Gabriella. The safest place for you was behind bars, where no one could get to you.”

  It made perfect sense, and she was suddenly filled with a sense of relief so great, she almost cried. He has always tried to protect me, she realized, choking back a sob. She hurled herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest.

  “I don’t know what to do!” she blubbered. “What should I do?”

  Cameron reached up and stroked her dark tresses lovingly.

  “You will stay here with me where you are safe,” he told her. “I will tell the district attorney to drop the charges because we have a new suspect: Jasper Brewer.”

  “Where is his body?” Gabby asked tentatively, but Cameron shook his head.

  “You don’t need to worry about anything. Brewer’s DNA will be at the scene and on Bell’s body when we demand a new autopsy. Our only concern now is getting to the bottom of who hired Andrew Bell.”

  Gabriella looked at him, her eyes dark with sadness.

  “I have caused you nothing but problems since the day I arrived here,” she told him mournfully. “Why do you want to continue protecting me?”

  Cameron set her back and stared deeply into her eyes.

  “Because you are meant to be with me.”

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  Gabriella stared at the computer screen, her eyes wide with disbelief.

  This is what he was hiding all along?

  Heat rose to her cheeks. She read the article again, certain she had misunderstood the content, but the words remained the same.

  “Cam!” she shouted. “Get in here!”

  A moment later, Cameron sauntered into the kitchen of their newly rented home, stretching cat-like in his robe.

  “You rang, madam?” he asked, his accent becoming British.

  “Have you seen this?” she demanded, turning the computer toward him. He glanced at the screen with little interest.

  “Oh, yeah,” he commented. “Shameful business, isn’t it?”

  “Are you going to speak with a British accent all day?” Gabby demanded, scowling. “Do you know anything about this?” Cameron turned toward the stainless-steel fridge and pulled open the door, unspeaking. “Cam…”

  “Well, the truth was bound to surface eventually,” he said evenly.

  “What did you do?” Gabriella asked, rising from the island to touch his arm. “Is this true?”

  Cameron withdrew the orange juice and shut the door, his blue eyes shining.

  “As far as I know, yes,” he replied honestly. “David Charlotte has been having an affair with his cousin for two decades.”

  Cameron had come across the information in his search to discover who had hired Andrew Bell. There had been no follow-up to the original hit, but he had not been convinced Gabriella was out of danger yet. The brunette the mayor had been photographer with had, indeed, been his first cousin, Patricia. It had not taken much persuasion for Patricia Charlotte to confess the truth and come forward with the information. David had accused Gabby as the mistress to hide the fact that he was involved in an incestuous relationship.

  It looks better to be screwing around with a supermodel who had previously donated to his campaign than his own kin. Smart thinking, throwing everyone off his track and onto that of a celebrity, Cameron thought with a slight admiration of David Charlotte’s ingenuity. Too bad he picked the wrong woman to frame.

  Yet no matter how much investigative work Cameron had done, he could not find a link between the official and Andrew Bell.

  “Do you think Alison Charlotte learned about the affair and he had her killed?” Gabriella asked pensively.

  And while there had not been a paper trail between the mayor and the hitman, there had been one between the hitman and the mayor’s wife. Cameron found it when the impound had called, telling him they had found a GPS tracking device under the wheel well of Gabby’s scrapped convertible. Cameron had taken the tracker and retraced its locations back to Alison Charlotte’s office in Manhattan.

  After sending informatives to New York, Cameron found confirmation to what he had suspected all along. Alison’s public façade had not shown an iota of the inner fury she had held toward Gabriella. She had hired Andrew to do the deed in some weak attempt for retribution for her misguided anger.

  “No idea,” Cameron replied flippantly.

  Gabriella continued to stare at him. “You don’t know what happened to Alison Charlotte?” she demanded, eyeing him suspiciously.

  “I heard she disappeared. Maybe she was simply sick of being married to a pig,” he volunteered. “I couldn’t say.”

  Actually, Cameron could say a great deal, but he did not need to worry Gabriella any more than necessary. She had endured enough for her lifetime.

  “You know what this means?” Gabriella breathed, her face growing pink with excitement.

  A feeling of dread washed over Cameron, but he had been expecting it. He flashed her a happy smile.

  “Yes,” he replied easily. “It means you can go back to New York and resume your career in modeling.”

  She looked at him, her mouth parting slightly.

  “That’s not what I was going to say,” she replied slowly. “I was going to say that I don’t have to worry about looking over my shoulder anymore. It’s over!”

  Cameron exhaled slightly, nodding. “I told you that I would always keep you safe,” he reminded her.

  They smiled at one another, but Cameron’s earlier comment still hung in the air.

  “Are you going back to New York now?” he asked quietly.

  Gabby’s smile faded slightly.

  “Do you know that I have been modeling for ten years?” she asked him. “Constantly flying from continent to continent for ten years, sleeping two hours a night, spending hours in make-up, battling inclement weather because some asshole wants bikini shots in real snow. I am not complaining, but I have made more money than I can spend in a lifetime. I could buy six houses in Great Falls for the price of one condo in Manhattan.”

  Cam felt his heart begin to thump with hope.

  “You’re going to retire?” he asked, trying not to seem too eager.

  “From modeling? Yes,” she replied. “Anyway, I’ve really enjoyed not watching my diet so closely, and I have put on at least ten pounds. They probably won’t take me back anyway.”

  “You’re beautiful,” he told her truthfully. “The most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

  Gabby hung her head demurely. “I will find something else to do,” she told him as they settled back onto their stools.

  “Any thoughts?” Cam asked, leaning forward on his arms, and Gabriella nodded earnestly.

  “Yes, actually,” she replied, a wicked smile on her face. “I was thinking driving instructor.”

  *****

  THE END

  Thank you for reading my book. Readers like you make an author’s world shine. If you’ve enjoyed this book, or any other books by Juniper Hart or another author, please don’t hesitate to review them on Amazon or Goodreads.

  Every single review makes an incredible difference. The reason for this is simple: other readers trust reviews more than professional endorsements. For this reason, indie authors rely on our readers to spread the good word.

  Thank you very much! I am giving you a virtual high-five!

  - Junip
er Hart

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  Lost in the Woods

  Text Copyright © 2016 by Alexis Davie

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing, 2016

  Publisher

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  Lost in the Woods

  By: Alexis Davie

  Lost in the Woods

  Chapter One

  “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, listening to you!”

  Jax kicked at a rock furiously, and the stone narrowly missed Annabelle’s cheek. She turned her head away in the nick of time, rapidly blinking back the sudden onset of tears which flooded her violet-colored eyes. Rain was pelting against her skin, almost hurting her, but she didn’t feel anything but borderline fear and genuine unhappiness.

  “Why didn’t you tell me this place was in the middle of nowhere?” Jax bellowed, stomping his foot on the muddy ground like a whining horse.

  Annabelle could see his breaths coming out hot and steamy against the humidity.

  “I gave you the goddamn GPS for a reason, Annabelle! You could have used the little bit of brain you have to tell me that it was going to take longer than we thought!”

  “I didn’t know it was this far,” Annabelle turned her lovely face to stare imploringly at her fiancé, but she knew the action was futile; there was nothing she could say or do to placate him while he was in such a state of fury. Like the storm, she would simply have to bide her time and hope he simmered down soon before things got out of hand.

  “Let’s get back in the car,” she pleaded, reaching a tanned arm out toward Jax. “We can wait out the storm and call for help afterward. I bet when the rain stops, we’ll be able to get a phone signal.”

  “You get back in the goddamn car! Who knows how long it’s going to rain? It might be days. And even if it does stop, we’re in the middle of fucking nowhere! There’s no guarantee that we’ll get reception on a clear day. I need to find help, thanks to your idiotic idea. Why would you suggest taking a shortcut? Didn’t you notice that the gas light was on?”

  He was not finished unleashing, and Annabelle was having more and more difficulty holding in her anguish. Didn’t you? You were the one driving! Annabelle silently slapped back with the smidgen of fire she could muster from within, but she wisely kept her rosebud mouth closed and allowed him to continue raging. She began to tremble as the storm snaked its way through her thin t-shirt and down her tight jeans. She rubbed her arms, trying to fabricate some warmth through the friction.

  “Oh for Christ’s sake, Annabelle, get back in the car!” Jax yelled at her. “You are absolutely useless.”

  He stormed off down the deserted pathway, headed in the same direction as they had come half an hour earlier.

  “Jax, wait! I’ll come, too,” Annabelle yelled after him but he had already disappeared behind the lush trees, out of view.

  Inwardly, she was deeply relieved. When she was certain he wasn’t immediately returning, she hurried to the Chevy, soaked and shivering, and collapsed in the passenger seat. He hadn’t left her the keys, but it wouldn’t have mattered. The beat-up car was completely dead. Digging around in their bags, she located a towel and attempted to dry her soaked frame.

  Jax hadn’t noticed because of the rain, but tears had begun to flow from her eyes, mingling with the shower in synchronicity. Why do I put up with this? Why do I let him talk to me that way? They had almost become age old questions to Annabelle, ones she posed internally more and more with each day that passed.

  Once upon a time, Jax and Annabelle had been a golden couple, the envy of friends and strangers alike. Physically, they were paired by the gods. He was tall, fair, and athletic, while she was petite, yet voluptuous, with dark curls and an alluring smile. All their peers agreed that their children would have unrivaled good looks.

  In high school, Jax Hunter had been a football halfback, and Annabelle LaCroix, a cheerleader. They were both outgoing, witty, and academically successful, each eventually gaining scholarships to their first choices in colleges. Their parents were friends with each other, and the young couple had grown up only blocks away from one another in an upper-middle-class city in Michigan. It was the epitome of the American love story. They were picture perfect, and from the beginning of their teens, everyone in Middlebury had known they were going to live happily ever after. Everyone, that was, except Annabelle.

  It had started going downhill unexpectedly right after college. She and Jax had been officially dating for just over six years, and things had been going smoothly. They spent all of their free time together, joking and laughing. They had the same circle of friends and similar views on most subjects. Jax had been talking about marriage, and Annabelle had been thrilled at the prospects for their future. But something changed, and she didn’t know what it was.

  One evening, they had plans to go to a movie with two other couples: Annabelle’s best friend, Elyse, and her boyfriend, and Jax’s best friend, Julian, and his girlfriend. The night had started out well enough; the six ate dinner at the local greasy spoon before heading out the multiplex downtown, something they had done many times prior.

  Jax had started telling some off-color sexual joke to the boys, and all three girls quickly shut him down, groaning at the inappropriateness of such conversation. They had continued to the show without incident, but when Annabelle and Jax bid goodnight to their friends and returned to Jax’s car, he had begun screaming without prompting. Annabelle had been caught completely off guard by his abrupt change in personality and could only sit listening to his anger, open-mouthed and in shock. It was a rage which had been brewing since dinner, and Jax had accused her of making him look stupid in front of their friends, a diatribe which had continued for over an hour, all while he drove aimlessly around town in the Chevy at breakneck speed. For effect, when he dropped her off at home, he smashed his fists across the dashboard, denting the hard rubber.

  Shocked and terrified, Annabelle had apologized profusely, promising never to make him feel uncomfortable again. She had felt guilty and ashamed for putting him in that position and vowed to be more conscious of her actions in the future, never wanting to see that side of Jax again.

  Unfortunately for Annabelle, however, that night had simply been the tip of the monstrous iceberg. Suddenly he was lashing out after every date night, nit-picking at things she had done or said, things she would have never imagined could offend anyone. She chewed too loudly or laughed too hard as his friends’ jokes. No matter how hard Annabelle tried to please him, their days always ended in an eruption and Annabelle crying into her pillow. Overnight, Jax had become possessive, emotionally abusive, and paranoid about her affiliations with any guys he didn’t know, and on occasion, he became jealous when his own friends paid too much attention to Annabelle.

  Over time, Annabelle’s sunny smiles became further and fewer apart. She barely spoke in Jax’s presence as any innocent comment or question was subject to intense scrutiny and ridicule.

  While he never put his hands on her directly, nothing was safe in his rage. Books were sent flying, furniture got kicked, and doors slammed. Annabelle often feared that she would be the
next broken object in his wake. She always assured herself that if that ever occurred, she would end the relationship and never go back. She tried to ignore the cynical voice in her head which constantly whispered that she was doomed to stay in a relationship with a hot-headed man-child, whether he hit her or not. But she was holding out hope that he would return to the sweet man she once knew. Not for the first time, she asked herself how she had ever agreed to his proposal the previous fall.

  It’s not too late. You aren’t married. You don’t have kids. You can still get out. But even as she had those thoughts, she recognized the self-reassurances as empty, unenforceable ideas.

  Annabelle dried her face with a fluffy brown towel and turned to stare out the window at the unrelenting rain. She had hoped that this outing would go smoothly. Julian had set up the trip weeks earlier, and initially, Annabelle had assumed it was a boys’ weekend. None of her female peers had mentioned anything about the trip, but she spent less and less time amongst them as the years passed. Jax had cut off her social media access, and after work, he was there to pick her up every single night.

  She never went out for girls’ nights anymore, nor did double or group dates occur. Even Elyse, who had been her best friend since kindergarten, had stopped calling and texting, knowing that the answer to all of her invites would always be, “No,” or “Let me ask Jax,” which inevitably meant no.

  Annabelle was elated by Julian’s camping idea. She had looked forward to being out of Jax’s constant line of sight for once. She had made plans to meet with Elyse and maybe visit her parents for the first time in months. Somehow, even her relationship with her family had suffered as Jax took more and more control over of her life. Of course, her assumption had been too good to be true, and Jax quickly dashed any plans she had pre-emptively made in her mind.