The Truth About Kadenburg

Home > Other > The Truth About Kadenburg > Page 5
The Truth About Kadenburg Page 5

by T. E. Ridener


  Her tired legs carried her up onto the steps of the back porch and she tugged open the screen door with the last ounce of strength she had. She lifted her good hand, hitting her fist against the door as she waited.

  Her mind was so hazy. Her lungs hurt. Her legs ached. Her wrist was throbbing. Everything was beginning to spin as exhaustion caught up to her. She needed to use their phone and call 911. She needed to let them know Jim needed help. She needed to tell them that wild animals had tried to attack her. She needed to sleep.

  Why weren’t they answering? Presley lifted her hand yet again, pounding it against the door as she listened for footsteps. Someone had to be home. She let out a small whine as she leaned against the door. Was this karma? Was she finally being punished for the harmless pranks she’d pulled as a teenager?

  “This isn’t happening,” she sobbed as she opened her eyes to gaze down at her shoes. They were covered in mud and her toes were soaked. The only good pair of shoes I’ve got. Go figure, she crinkled her nose. If only she could sit down for a minute…

  As her agitation grew stronger and her patience wore thin, Presley reached for the doorknob. She curled her fingers around it, intending to give it a firm shake to let some frustration out-but to her surprise it opened.

  Who left their door unlocked?

  Even though the more intellectual voice in her mind told her not to do it, Presley found herself pushing the door open and stepping inside. The scent of tuna casserole immediately attacked her nostrils and her stomach growled. She was so hungry.

  How can you be thinking about food when Jim is hurt? Her conscience asked. It did have a good point. Maybe she could call the police and then eat some food. It would serve them right for leaving their door unlocked!

  Completely chilled to the bone and exhausted, Presley wandered further into the home, exiting the kitchen and all temptation of eating the tuna casserole as she entered the living room. She spotted the house phone on the coffee table and immediately reached for it. Numb fingers dialed the number as she lifted it to her ear.

  “Nine one-one, what’s your emergency?” The male dispatcher questioned.

  “Uh, y-yes,” Presley started as she licked her lips again. “I’m calling to report an accident in Kadenburg.”

  “What kind of accident, Ma’am?”

  “My friend drove off the road and went into the river. He made it onto the shore but he’s hurt very badly. He’s very old, too. Can you please send help?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. Can you tell me what road he went off of?”

  Was this guy kidding? The only road a person could go off of in Kadenburg!

  “Jessen Bend Road,” Presley replied as she shrugged out of her hoodie and let it hit the hardwood floor with a wet plop.

  “What is your friend’s name?”

  “Jim Proffitt.”

  “Were you in the vehicle with Jim?”

  “Yes, I was. I..I got out. I went for help but I got lost.” She admitted guiltily. “I just need someone to help him, please.”

  “What’s your name?”

  She didn’t want her name involved in this. She was already going to be in enough trouble as it was. She chewed her lower lip, remaining perfectly silent as she contemplated her next move.

  She hung up the phone.

  The first thing that she decided to do was shed the wet clothing. They were only making her freeze to death. If the car wreck and hungry animals didn’t kill her, the temperature of her body would. Clad in only her under clothes, Presley made her way into the kitchen to pull the aluminum foil away from the bowl of tuna casserole on the stove. She inhaled the scent as her mouth began to water.

  She grabbed a large spoon from the nearby dish drain and she didn’t stop eating until the spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl. She couldn’t recall eating a single thing that day-plus drinking on top of it had been such a stupid idea. She groaned from the sensation of being full and then glanced about.

  She wondered who lived here. She wasn’t sure what direction she’d gone in, but it had to be someone she knew. I’m sure I’ll find out tomorrow, she thought as she made her way down the hallway. It was odd that no pictures hung there. Didn’t everyone have pictures in the hallway?

  Presley stopped when she came upon the bathroom, contemplating for a moment just how far she was willing to go in a stranger’s home. Her mind was still buzzing a little, and there was a part of her that decided taking a shower in someone else’s house was a good idea.

  She stripped down completely, turning on the faucet as she waited for the water to warm up. She tapped her bare foot against the cool tile as she ran a hand through her stringy blonde hair and then she bent over to check the temperature of the water.

  “Ah!” she gasped, jerking her hand away from the stream. “Too hot.” She adjusted the knobs and counted to ten before she checked the temperature once more. “No. Too cold.” She sighed in frustration as she adjusted both knobs once more and counted to seven before reaching down to feel of the water.

  She pushed the small lever that would turn the shower head on, quickly getting into the tub as she let the high pressure water beat against her shoulders and chest. “Just right,” she sighed.

  Once the mirror above the sink was sufficiently fogged up, Presley wrapped a towel around herself to exit the bathroom. Her mind was on auto-pilot and her body was nearing sleep mode as she made her way down the hallway to the first door on the left. She pushed it open and stepped inside, not paying much attention to the KHS alma mater flag that hung on the wall over the bed. She pulled the covers down and crawled onto the mattress, curling up against the pillow as she yawned.

  She laid there for less than a minute before she huffed. “Too hard,” she mumbled as she pushed herself back up and then wandered out of the room and down the hallway a little further. The next door she came to was on the right side, and she pushed it open to venture inside to see a much larger bed.

  She somehow missed the family portrait hanging on the wall above the television. She pulled the covers down once again and climbed into the bed, snuggling beneath the covers as she sighed. A minute barely ticked by as she kicked her heels against the mattress and whined tiredly. “Too soft!”

  Presley’s eyes barely opened as she made her way into the last room, overlooking the trophies on the small display shelf that honored a young man for being the fastest track runner Kadenburg had ever had. She didn’t even bother to pull the covers down as she collapsed against the bed, face first, and let out a groan of approval. “Just right,” she whispered, burying her face against the pillow-which smelled wonderful, by the way-and within seconds she was sound asleep.

  Six

  Lorcan should have known something like this would happen. No sooner than he picked up on Presley’s scent, he also caught a whiff of one of those damn mutts lurking around, too. He knew it wasn’t Dimitri because his scent, though equally disturbing, had a muskier hint to it. The other scent reminded him of the one he’d found on his brother’s body. It was a pungent stench that made his throat close in disgust. Lorcan would never forget that smell.

  He broke out into a dead run as he sprinted in the direction of Presley’s sweet scent. He wouldn’t let those damn mutts hurt another person he cared about…

  The scene he came upon caused such an adrenaline rush that he shifted faster than he could ever recall doing so before. He could only feel the overwhelming need to protect as he charged the wolf that was stalking a fearful Presley. He could sense how scared she was, of both the wolf and his self, but he had to remember she didn’t know it was him. Hell, she didn’t even know their kind existed. This wasn’t the time or place to think about it either.

  He kept the wolf busy so that she could escape and once he saw she was gone, he attacked. Lorcan didn’t hold back as his long claws dug into the wolf’s back, causing it to howl in pain as he bared his fangs for it to see.

  You killed my brother! His mind screamed as he bit down against the nape of
its neck. The wolf yelped from pain before turning its head quickly to sink its fangs into his front right leg. Lorcan roared from the pain as the fangs scraped against bone and he smacked the wolf away again.

  They circled around each other for a good five minutes before the wolf growled in frustration. Was it mad because it couldn’t get to Presley? And more importantly-was this the Alpha Dimitri spoke of? Lorcan could only think of the anger and the pain he’d felt since the day of his brother’s death. This wolf would pay. He would justify what had happened to Liam.

  It was then that he heard howls in the distance and Lorcan growled lowly. Were more coming? If so, it would be a fair fight. He would destroy them all. They didn’t need to be in his town anyway-it wasn’t their territory!

  Much to his surprise, the wolf tilted his head back to release an ear shattering howl before he took off in the direction of his pack’s call and Lorcan was left to watch his retreating backside.

  Lorcan remained in bear form until dawn approached. The bite he’d received from the wolf was nearly healed and he knew it would be okay to return home. If his mother caught the faintest scent of blood, whether his or the wolf’s, she’d have his hide for going against his father’s wishes. He could hear her already. “You went and picked a fight when we told you not to! You have the thickest skull, Lorcan Bamey. What’s wrong with you?!”

  Nothing was as dangerous as upsetting a mother bear-especially his. He waded around in the shallow part of the rushing river for a few moments, just to ensure the blood was washed away from his thick fur before he began the short trek to his house. He immediately rounded the back of the garage, which was concealed from any potential prying eyes, as he shifted back into his human self. He opened the back door of the building and stepped inside, immediately sorting through a basket of “just in case” clothes to find some jeans. He froze briefly when he grabbed Liam’s on accident.

  As he held the denim between his fingers and his brother’s scent infiltrated his mind, he wondered how long it would take before he’d actually be ‘okay’ with his brother being gone.

  Never, his mind whispered. I’ll never be okay with it.

  He knew that was the truth. His big brother had been his biggest role model in life, and now, even in death, Lorcan felt the need to make him proud. It was a shame the wolf had ran off before he had a chance to do just that.

  As he exited the garage and made his way towards the front porch, he glanced at his right arm to make sure it looked healthy and unscathed. There wasn’t even a scar. Sometimes, being an ursithrope definitely had its perks. He stopped short, suddenly, when he saw his dad sitting on the steps. Oh shit, Lorcan thought. What’d I do this time? He slowed his pace as he approached the steps and he glanced up to meet his father’s gaze.

  “Jim’s gonna be okay,” his dad started. “He’s got a few broke ribs and a fractured hip, but he’ll survive.”

  “That’s good,” Lorcan nodded as he shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Any word on Presley?” He tried to act dumb about it, but the look his father gave him let Lorcan know his dad knew exactly what had happened during the dark hours of the early morning.

  “Ain’t been no word,” his dad shrugged as he pushed himself up from the top step and turned to go in the house. “But you can come and look for yourself if you want.”

  Lorcan’s brows furrowed in confusion. What was that supposed to mean? Presley had run in the right direction to make it home. But then a thought struck him. Shit. What if she got lost again?

  Lorcan swung the screen door open with such force that it slammed against the wall and his mother looked up from the current book she was reading.

  “Mind yourself, Boy,” his father scolded as he frowned. “Don’t come in here acting like a damn heathen.”

  Lorcan lifted a brow towards his father before he looked at his mother again.

  “You need to be quiet,” she commented. “You’ll wake her up.”

  “Wake who…” His voice trailed off when he realized who his mother was talking about. Her sweet scent slammed into his senses faster than a frog could catch a fly. Presley was in their house. He wondered how and why. He didn’t wait for answers as he made his way down the hallway, pushing every door open and peeking inside. He wanted to make sure she was okay. She wasn’t in any of the rooms thus far, and he became a little skeptical when he got to his bedroom door.

  No way, he thought to himself as he rested his fingertips against the wood. What were the chances? Very slowly, he eased the door open and winced as the hinges creaked. The last thing he wanted to do was wake her up.

  Poking his head in first, his eyes fell upon her slender frame in his bed and merciful Urseth, she was gorgeous. She was perfectly still beneath the white sheet that covered her, giving only a small hint of what was hidden beneath the fabric.

  Why hadn’t she gotten beneath the blankets? He stepped inside, still being as quiet as he could as he let his eyes wander over her golden curls as they rested against his pillow, the spiraled tresses cascading over her bare shoulder as she sighed and then rolled onto her back.

  He froze instantly as he saw the very tops of her breasts. His jeans suddenly became very uncomfortable. He licked his lips, incapable of breathing as his brown eyes lingered on her chest. He’d seen Presley in a bikini plenty of times. Why was this any different?

  “Mm,” she mumbled, arching her back a little before she shifted to lay on her side-facing him. Oh God. Lorcan swallowed hard as his eyes travelled down, taking in the curve of her hip before his eyes landed on the creamy skin of her thigh. She probably didn’t like to sleep with the sheets on her feet, but why the hell was the blanket so far up on her thighs?

  His mouth went dry as his growing arousal strained against the denim of his jeans. Her scent was surrounding him, fogging his brain and squeezing his heart at the same time. Presley had a scent that was more tantalizing than honey.

  He stayed perfectly still as he watched one arm lift to rest above her head, her brows furrowing slightly as her lips moved in a soft murmur.

  He wanted to kiss those lips.

  This has to be the most unfair situation of my life, he thought as he frowned. He crossed his arms over his bare chest as he stared at her, watching the corners of her lips curve upwards into a smile. He wondered what she was dreaming about. He imagined that she dreamed of childhood memories as he often did. Running through the fields without worry-unafraid to roam to the creek and play in the water. Back during a time of innocence..back when he and Liam were safe; back when Liam was alive.

  The painful lump in his throat was hard to swallow as Lorcan’s gaze moved back to Presley’s face, watching her eyes move beneath closed lids. He desperately wished he could invade her mind for only a moment. If he could just see what it took to win her affection.

  She appeared to be a restless sleeper as she shifted again, causing the sheet to fall away from her breast. When her light pink nipple came into view, it took every ounce of strength in his body to keep him from approaching the bed. He could have taken two easy strides and been at her side in an instant, but he refrained. His dark hues stayed on the blushing bud as it began to harden and his body responded. God, did it ever respond.

  His breathing became harsh through his nostrils as they flared, lips thinning as he took a step forward.

  Don’t, his mind warned. You cannot do what she does not want you to do. She is not willing.

  How do you know that? He countered as he gazed down at her. All he had to do was lean down and take the ripe nipple into his mouth. If she gave him five minutes, he could prove himself to her. He could show her how worthy he was.

  That is wrong, his conscience chided.

  Lorcan licked his lips as he leaned down, his eyes studying her face as he opened his mouth to receive the sensitive bud between his teeth. It would only take another inch and he could do it. Just another inch.

  His hot breath fanned against her skin and he heard the sigh es
caping her parted lips. She liked it. He wasn’t even touching her and she liked it already. That had to be a sign, didn’t it? He released a low groan of want as his desire for her became evident in the tight restraint of his jeans. He moved his hand down to rest against the mattress, close to her hip as he hovered over her.

  His eyes closed as he inhaled her scent; so strong, so inviting. He imagined she tasted as good as she smelled and his mouth watered for her. He was confident he could have her squirming from pleasure if she’d just give him the chance. He could be good to her. He could love her….

  “Mm, no,” Presley mumbled in her sleep.

  It spooked him so badly that he turned and made a dash for the door and slammed it shut behind him. It probably woke her up, who could be certain-but he wasn’t about to get caught gawking at her naked skin. He quickly entered the living room with his hands shoved in his pockets as he seated himself on the couch.

  Mr. Bamey glanced away from the television briefly to study his son’s face.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  “How do you mean?” Lorcan questioned with a shrug. “I’m fine.”

  “Uh huh,” Mr. Bamey rolled his eyes as he lifted his glass of milk to take a sip. “You sure don’t act like you’re fine.”

  Lorcan rolled his eyes before sighing. He leaned forward and rested his elbows against his thighs as he stared at his father.

  “You want to know what’s wrong,” he cocked his head to the side. “Fine. There’s a gorgeous, naked female ursithrope in my bed and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. That’s what’s wrong.” Lorcan tossed his hands up as if he were surrendering. “I’m not cut out for this. I don’t have the self-restraint every ursithrope before me was born with,” He pushed himself up from the couch and headed for the front door. “I need some air.”

  As the screen door slammed for a second time, Mr. Bamey finished off his glass of milk before turning to gaze at his wife in the open kitchen area. “Cubs.”

 

‹ Prev