by Liza Street
“You should avoid all the guys,” Marcus said. “We’re all in here for a reason.”
Jessica pursed her lips. “Including you.”
“Right,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t press him for details like she had last time. “I don’t know any of them particularly well. Jase is a stand-up guy, I guess. But all this is just from what I know in here. I have no idea who they truly are.”
She was quiet for a moment. “How they are in here is all we have to go on. And if they’ve been decent thus far, I think we’ll have to assume that’s their true nature. Sometimes you have to look past someone’s reputation, to find who they truly are.”
Marcus basked in the thoughtful, understanding tone that went along with her words. She wasn’t just talking about giving those other guys a chance—she was talking about Marcus, too.
But she didn’t know what he’d done. She didn’t know everything.
She should know. He didn’t want to talk about it, but before she got too attached to him, he should tell her the truth of it all.
Taking a deep breath, he said, “I killed someone. Someone in my own pack.”
He could sense her heart rate speeding up, but she didn’t jump away from him.
He went on, “I came here and felt it was deserved.”
“Was it deserved?” Jessica asked quietly.
Marcus shrugged. “The man I killed—I’d known him for years. He was in my pack. Not all packs are tight-knit, but mine was. The bond between all of us was strong. He was like a brother to me.”
She touched his arm, sympathy welling in her eyes. “Then I’m sure you didn’t just lash out and kill him for no reason at all.”
“You’re right. I was protecting my sister, Marianne. He was scaring her, and stalking her. His behavior was escalating. But nobody else thought so. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I was overprotective.” Even now, he cringed at the memory, at Vince’s surprise when Marcus first told him to leave Marianne alone.
“You don’t really think you were being overprotective, do you?” she asked.
“No. I guess I don’t. Every instinct I had told me that he wasn’t joking around like he said he was. Every instinct I had told me that he wasn’t in control like he said he was. And Marianne—she was scared. And he thought that was fine.”
Jessica’s fingers were soft against his arm. “I wasn’t there, but it sounds like you did the right thing.”
“Maybe.” He looked up to watch the gray clouds rolling overhead. The wind lashed at the trees, and it would start raining soon; he could smell the change in the air. “It got me thrown in here, but I don’t have regrets, at least not about protecting Marianne. But I miss her. And since I lost my hand, I can’t fight like I used to. It’s fine because generally, nobody cares what I do or where I go.”
“I care,” Jessica whispered.
“Well, that’s the other thing. This fight for your friend is going to happen soon.”
“What will the outcome be?” Jessica asked. “Which of the guys has the best chance?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. But I was thinking…if I toss my hat in the ring, so to speak, maybe I can give one of the good guys a fighting chance. Hopefully Grant will find the witch and you and Blythe will get out of here before any of this is necessary. But just in case that doesn’t happen, we should have a fallback plan.”
“So all that shouting I heard earlier,” she said, “that wasn’t them fighting for Blythe, was it?”
“No. I ran into Alleman and he said they’re training for the big fight. But honestly, when aren’t they fighting here, is the better question?”
“Always practicing,” Jessica mused.
“Yep.”
She slugged him in the bicep. “Well, let’s go, Rocky. Let’s train you up.”
He took in her earnest brown eyes and wide smile. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” She looked around the little clearing. “What else are we going to do—count chipmunks?”
He could think of a few things they could do, but those things all involved getting naked, so he nodded. “Fine, let’s do this.”
“All right, champ.” She stood up and put her hands on her hips. “I’m your coach, and your first task is…”
He waited while she tapped a finger against her lips. She obviously didn’t know the first thing about training a fighter, but he didn’t care.
“Maybe we should spar,” he suggested. “So you can get a measure of my abilities.”
“Okay. You should take off your shirt, then. So it doesn’t get all sweaty when I’m kicking your ass.” She winked.
He laughed, and did as she asked, pulling the cotton over his head and dropping it on the log where they’d been sitting. He didn’t know if she was trying to cheer him up on purpose or what, but there was something about this woman—she was full of joy, and jokes. He hadn’t smiled this much in months.
She obviously knew nothing about fighting, so he took her through the four basic punches—the jab, the uppercut, the cross, and the hook. He showed her how to hold her fist, how to swing from the gut, not the shoulder.
The dark clouds finally broke into a light drizzle, but he and Jessica remained outside, exchanging slow-motion blows and practicing blocking each other. Rain fell lightly over them, making Jessica’s skin shine and her dark hair curl.
Something switched as their clothes soaked through. Marcus could sense it like he’d sensed the approaching storm. Their bodies moved in this sparring dance, learning each other’s movements, anticipating contact. His breath hitched as he realized he was appreciating Jessica’s curves as much as he was appreciating her quick mind.
Jessica came after him in a rush, like she really hoped to surprise him. He blocked her without any trouble, but grabbed her shoulder and spun her around until her back was flush against his front.
She was breathing hard, and she gasped in surprise. “How’d you do that? I didn’t even see you move.”
“As a shifter, I’m stronger. Faster. My senses are better, too.”
She lifted her foot, probably to stomp on his instep, but he moved out of the way and picked her up.
“Dammit, Muhammad,” she said in an adorable growl. “Put me down.”
He put her down, but he didn’t lose contact with her. He kept his hand on her shoulder, and his other arm at her waist. She faced away from him, so he couldn’t see her expression, but he could feel the speedy beating of her heart.
“Tired, Jasmine?” he asked.
He kept his tone light, but his body yearned to be close to her. Touching her this morning, helping her come apart, had been heaven, and he wanted to go back to that moment and do it again.
Before he could stroke his fingers along her shoulder and down to her hip, the sound of footfalls reached his ears, combined with the faint scent of mountain lion. He looked up with a growl, searching the forest around them. He relaxed when he saw it was just Grant.
“Marcus,” Grant said.
Jessica gave a squeak of alarm, but Marcus reassured her. “He’s a friend. That’s Grant, Caitlyn’s mate.”
Grant nodded at Jessica. “Hello. I just wanted to check in with you on the witch. She’s ill, and the coven won’t allow me to talk to her or send a message.”
“Shit,” Marcus said.
“You’ll keep trying, though, right?” Jessica asked.
Grant gave her a small smile. “Of course. I’ll keep trying, and I’ll keep reinforcing the fact that you’re human and shouldn’t be in there to begin with.”
“Thank you,” Jessica said.
She was a lot more generous with her gratitude than Marcus was feeling. The witch lead wasn’t working, and Marcus wanted to yell with frustration. Still, he thanked Grant before Grant walked away.
Then he faced Jessica. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “None of it is.”
He gave her a careful look and saw goosebumps rising along her neck and collar. “Come o
n, let’s get you dried off. It’s late, anyway.”
He wanted to hold her, chase away the cold and disappointment, but that wasn’t his job. His job was to protect her until he could set her free.
13
Jessica tossed and turned on the trailer bed. Across the room, Marcus lay on the other bed, which was formed by taking down the dining table and throwing cushions on top of it. Kind of genius, really. She’d never spent time in a camp trailer before. Her vacations had been to different countries, for the most part, and nice hotels during book and publishing conferences, where she’d spent most of her time in the hotel pool, being watched by a nanny.
She wasn’t complaining and she would never complain about that weird, lonely childhood—she knew so many people had worse upbringings. Blythe, for example. Blythe hadn’t provided any details, but Jessica could tell there was some past hurt. Jessica, at least, hadn’t been physically or mentally harmed. She’d always had enough to eat, and her parents, although absent a lot of the time, had loved her in their own remote way.
The rain pattered away at the roof of the trailer, making her feel safe and warm. Or maybe that was just Marcus’s presence a few feet away. She was oh-so-tempted to go to him, throw him on his back, and grind against him until they each found release, but he’d made it clear, more than once, that he wasn’t available to her in that way.
Except for that moment in the morning, when he’d fingered her to oblivion. Her thighs clenched involuntarily as the memory rocked through her mind.
“You still awake?” Marcus asked.
His voice was a low rumble. Wow, how she loved the way he sounded. Tough, dangerous. He’d killed a man, but he’d done it to protect someone. She wasn’t afraid of him. Instead, she was drawn to him. He was a protector. He held a sorrow inside that she yearned to soothe.
“Yeah,” she said, sitting up and looking in his direction.
He sat up, too; she could see the dark outline of his hulky build against the lighter wall of the trailer.
“It’s still raining,” he said.
“Yep.” She wondered where he was going with this.
He hesitated. “You’re sad about not seeing Blythe, and I was thinking.”
“Okay.”
“The rain should hide your scent. If we’re careful, I think I could get you to Blythe so you can see for yourself that she’s doing all right.”
Jessica swung her legs off the bed. Her bare feet hit the cool linoleum. “I’m in. Let’s do it.”
“Just like that?” he said, amusement in his voice. “You’re not scared of the big, bad shifters?”
“Ha. I haven’t seen any evidence they exist. You say you can turn into an animal…where’s the proof?” Her heart pounded at the thought of challenging him like this.
“You don’t want to see,” he said. “Trust me.”
“I trust you on a lot of things, but not that.”
He grumbled something about stubbornness under his breath, but she ignored him and pulled on a pair of jeans, figuring it was dark enough he wouldn’t be able to see much. She yanked off her night shirt, too, thinking she’d wear another one for this outing in the rain. She wanted to keep her night shirt dry.
He cleared his throat.
“What?” Jessica asked.
“I can see in the dark.”
“Crap!” She yanked her arms down over her breasts.
“I’m looking away now,” he said.
“How magnanimous of you.”
“You’ve no idea.”
Her face felt hot, and yet she didn’t know why she should feel embarrassed or shy after the man had put his hand in her panties earlier in the day. Maybe if she showed him her goodies, she’d get lucky and he’d do that again.
And again.
Groaning, she found her bra and a long-sleeved shirt and put them on, followed by her tennis shoes.
“Okay,” she said, “I’m ready.”
He opened the door and humid air from the summer mountain storm rushed in.
It was dark—as dark as it had been the night Jessica and Blythe had gotten lost. How long ago was that, anyway? Two nights ago? It seemed like weeks. She’d just met Marcus, and she hardly knew anything about him, but she felt she knew him anyway. It wasn’t just the way he’d so expertly taken control of her body and her pleasure. It was more about how her heart felt about his heart. Weird.
She tried to set the thoughts aside and focus on putting one foot in front of the other without walking herself straight into a tree. Marcus kept his arm against her shoulder and she welcomed its warm weight and subtle guiding presence. If he could see in the dark—and she had no doubt he could—then they were probably moving much slower than he’d be able to go on his own. Yet he didn’t complain, didn’t give huffs of impatience, didn’t make her feel like she was inept.
He hadn’t said anything about being silent, but the idea was there between them. She wouldn’t speak unless he spoke first. After his run-down of the different guys in this place, she knew just how worried he was for her safety.
At least it was raining, and her scent would be masked. It was hard to wrap her head around the idea that people could smell her, but in the scheme of her whole world understanding changing in three days, it wasn’t that preposterous.
They came out of the trees, and the landscape around her took on a lighter cast. She could make out distinct shapes—large rocks? She squinted, unable to tell. As they got closer, she realized this was the “dump” portion of the Junkyard that Marcus had told her about. The big shapes weren’t boulders, but old cars and pieces of large machinery. A few yards away from her and Marcus was a school bus, tilted slightly on uneven ground. Jessica shivered. Not only was it an eerie sight, but her shirt was soaked through and the chill was getting to her.
Marcus wrapped his arm around her and guided her forward through the hulking cars. It was like visiting an apocalyptic setting full of mechanical monsters. Headlights were eyes gleaming with malevolence. Broken windshields were jagged teeth jutting up from gaping mouths.
“Here,” he whispered, bringing her close to an RV on the other side of something that might have been a tractor in a previous life. “This is where she’s staying.”
She could make out the RV’s striped panels, and an open window.
“Better you talk to her than me,” Marcus said in a quiet voice.
Jessica nodded. Knocking against the side of the RV, she said, “Blythe? Are you awake?”
There was no answer, but she knocked again. “Hey, Blythe. It’s Jessica.”
Blythe’s face appeared in the window, her pale skin making it easier for Jessica to see her.
“Jessica,” Blythe whispered. “You’re okay?”
Relief flooded Jessica at the sight of her friend’s concerned face. If Blythe was concerned about Jessica’s well-being, it meant Blythe was doing all right. “Yeah. This is…this is wild, though, right?”
Blythe nodded.
“Tell me about you,” Jessica said. “Do you want to come out of there? You can stay with me.”
Marcus cleared his throat and said, “I don’t think that would be wise.”
“We’d make it work,” Jessica began. Why was he always saying things weren’t safe or smart?
“They’d search for Blythe,” Marcus explained, “and then they’d find you, too.”
Blythe turned her attention to Marcus, and she scowled. “I was just going to say that.” She turned back to Jessica. “I’m safe for now.”
Jessica supposed it made sense. But she didn’t have to like it.
She looked carefully at Blythe’s face, searching for signs of abuse or malnourishment. “Marcus said some guy is bringing you food.”
“Yeah, Jase. He’s not as big of a dickhead as some of the others.”
“High praise,” Jessica said with a little laugh.
“How about you?” Blythe asked. “What are you doing with that old man?”
“Old?” Jessica looked
at Marcus in a new light. She supposed he was older than she and Blythe were, maybe mid-thirties.
Marcus grinned when he noticed her attention on him. “I’m thirty-nine.”
“See?” Jessica said, looking back at Blythe. “Not that old. Not that it matters.”
Blythe’s eyebrows rose. “However old he is, it looks like he’s taking care of you.”
“Yeah, he is.” Jessica couldn’t keep the fondness from her voice.
Blythe’s eyebrows rose and she opened her mouth to say something, but Marcus said, “Shh,” and pressed Jessica down before grabbing her hand and dragging her around the RV to huddle between the RV’s corner and the wheel well of the tractor next to it.
A man walked by, his eyes on the ground. He swayed slightly, like he was drunk. A line of blood spread from his nose down over his lips, but he didn’t wipe it away. The rain smeared it to some extent.
Jessica held her breath. Her heart pounded faster than normal. She wanted to bolt into the darkness. If they stayed put, surely he would see her and Marcus crouched here by the RV. Only shadows protected them.
He tripped over something, maybe his own foot, but righted himself quickly, muttering, “Fuckers.”
Then his gaze landed on the RV.
Jessica was afraid to exhale.
He sauntered over—thankfully to the other side of of the vehicle, opposite of where Jessica and Marcus hid.
“Hey, Red,” he called. “Wanna come out and play?”
When Blythe didn’t answer, he raised his voice. “Girlie. Come out and give Barnum some love.”
The RV tilted toward Jessica and Marcus. He must have shoved it. Marcus yanked Jessica up onto the tractor quickly, so she wouldn’t get squished between the RV and the tractor.
Blythe gave a little yelp, then shouted, “Try that again, asshole, and I’ll smack you down!”
Another voice came from the darkness. “Barnum, go the fuck to sleep. Leave the woman alone.”
“I’m horny,” Barnum shouted back.
“Shut up and rub one out like everyone else has to do.”
Jessica had to bite her lips to keep from giggling. A totally inappropriate reaction, but she couldn’t help it.
