“I will come back. For Mary’s sake.” He nodded, and let me pass.
Chapter Thirteen
I sat down in the chair beside my sister’s bed. My other siblings had gone to get some sleep, having been nearer to SUNY. Julie looked so young, almost swallowed up by the hospital bed. She had inherited my mother’s smallness—she was slim and willowy, while the others and I were curvy and built like our fathers (Yes, fathers. Our mother got around). I reached forward, taking her delicate, pale hand that had bluish bruises already forming.
“Hey Jules,” I said. “You’re almost out of the woods, baby. Just keep walking back to me, okay?” I hoped for an answer that wasn’t coming. In order to help her heal, she was still in a medically-induced coma, and would be for a few more days.
“I have been through some weird stuff since we last talked,” I said, brushing her bangs back on her forehead. “You know, Michael Thompson is way weirder than we thought. I think he actually likes me.” I smiled, realizing that, despite the cage, I cared about him. I missed Mary, and wondered what that kid was up to. Now that I was at my sister’s side, I could relax a little. I was where I could be effective. She was still breathing. There was no internal bleeding at the moment, and she was stable. There was nothing that I could do but wait. I pulled my phone out of my bag, and dialed Michael’s number. He answered immediately.
“Hello?”
“Hi…Michael,” I said, deciding to be brave and speak to him familiarly.
“Jennifer. How is she?”
“She’s stable. In a medically-induced coma, so we won’t know how her brain is until she wakes up.”
“Oh. Well, that’s good news. Not great. But, considering…” he trailed off.
“How’s Mary?”
“Concerned about you. But she’s keeping Soraya busy.”
“You should read to her. We’re in the middle of the fifth Harry Potter book.”
“I’ll let Soraya know.”
“No,” I said, “You should do it. She’s always talking about how you used to spend time with her. She would love it if you read to her.”
“Oh,” he said, sounding surprised. “Okay. I think I will.”
“Good,” I said, smiling at the thought of them reading together. “Well, I should get going. Just wanted to let you know that I got here in one piece.”
“Thank you for letting me know,” he said, his voice still sounding tentative.
“It’s okay, Michael,” I said. “I don’t understand, but it’s okay.”
“Thank you,” he replied, exhaling.
Julie woke up on the third day. She was fine. My siblings and I had a small reunion of sorts, all three of us crowding around Julie’s hospital bed. It took two weeks for her to heal enough to leave the hospital, and I went with her, back to the apartment that I had set up for her using my funds from my nanny job. I sat on the couch, exhausted from maneuvering her wheelchair through the tiny elevator. She rolled over to me.
“I’ve hired a home-health nurse,” she said.
“That’s enterprising of you,” I replied sarcastically. “With whose money?”
“Yours,” she smiled sweetly. That was the thing about Julie—she was definitely the spoiled youngest. “You need to go back to them.”
“Excuse you?”
“I heard you talking to him, like, every day,” she said pointedly. “It’s obvious that you care about him. You talk about Mary like she’s an absolute angel.”
“But what about you?”
“With your salary, we can afford the nurse,” she said. “You have to go back.” I smiled at her. Of course she had listened to my phone conversations with Michael. I had spoken to him every day, the conversations stretching on longer and longer as my absence progressed. He had asked, every day, at the end of the conversation if I was coming back to him.
“I guess I have a call to make.” She rolled her eyes, then rolled away in her wheelchair.
“Hello?” Michael answered on the first ring.
“I’m coming back,” I said.
“She’s coming back,” he yelled, and I could hear Mary in the background, her tiny voice celebrating. “When?” He was speaking to me.
“As soon as I can get a flight,” I replied.
“I can set up a private jet for you,” he offered. “I’ll have a car service pick you up in the morning.”
“Okay. Then I can drive the car that I took from Chatsworth back to the house. It is still at the airport, right?”
“Should be,” Michael replied.
We spoke for a little longer, happily looking forward to the next day. Speaking to him for the past two weeks, I had realized how truly I cared for him.
Chapter Fourteen
I was feeling antsy—I had texted Michael when I had gotten on the private jet that I would get in at two, but we hadn’t taken off until late. It was now 5:30 PM, and we were just taxiing on the runway, making our arrival at the tiny airport in western New York State. I jiggled my foot nervously. Michael would have already gone into his strange chamber by now, unless…he would have waited for me, right?
When the plane finished taxiing and I finally had a signal on my cell, I sent him a message.
Plane was delayed. Finally got in.
The flight attendant handed me my luggage, and thanking her, I walked down the staircase and onto the tarmac. The airport really was tiny—I walked from the tarmac to the parking lot in under ten minutes, placing my phone in the glove compartment. I was a safe driver—never leaving out any distractions, like my phone.
I was driving back in the Camaro, driving along the back roads to get to Chatsworth. I took the drive through Ashford without stopping. I didn’t want to risk running into Damien. I wondered how he knew Michael, and why their relationship, if it could be called that, was so strained. My thoughts drifted toward Michael, the man who seemed to have won my heart entirely.
What I couldn’t understand or let slide was the cage…and why he seemed to have so many injuries. Was he hurting himself for some reason? Was it a cry for help? I needed to get him to open up to me. If we were going to be together—which is what he seemed to want, then he was going to have to tell me everything. I was willing to give him time, but he was going to have to explain everything down to the last detail.
I watched as the sun began to set behind the trees that covered most of this area of New York state. The woods looked black against the vibrant oranges and pinks of the sunset. I remembered my first impression of these woods—like the ones from Snow White, threatening and personified, trying to ensnare me. Now, I felt like I was driving home. As it grew dark, I switched my high beams on. I knew that deer were everywhere in this area, so I didn’t want to accidentally hit any.
Regardless, I barely had any time to hit the brakes when something jumped in front of the car. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it was huge; a giant mass, crouching in the road. I swerved to miss it, causing the car to spin, crashing sideways into a tree on the side of the road.
I hyperventilated, inhaling and exhaling rapidly, trying to calm myself. Glass from the driver’s side window had cut me on the side of my face, and I had contact injuries from my seatbelt. Something heavy landed on top of the car, denting the ceiling inward, and I screamed.
I froze in fear as I realized that it was walking on top of the car. I looked around me for something that I could use as a weapon. The front window shattered, and I found myself facing an enormous wolf, its hand-like claws reaching for me. It snarled, saliva dripping from its jaws. I tried to duck away from its grip, but I had nowhere to go since I was trapped in the smashed Camaro.
I thought about my life, so far. I thought about my family, even my mother, with fondness. I thought of Mary, and I thought of Michael—my second family. Just then, another wolf charged the first, knocking it off of the car in a roiling mass of limbs, teeth, and claws.
I exhaled, getting myself together. I needed to act immediately. I tried the car—it was dead,
broken in the crash. Hoping that the wolves were distracted, I unbuckled my seatbelt, crawling through the passenger side door, landing on the ground on my knees. I got up quickly, sprinting. Adrenaline was coursing through my veins, and I felt like I was on fire.
I had gotten less than ten feet from the car when one of the wolves tore out the throat of the other. I turned when I heard the one whimper, and saw a stream of red and one wolf standing over the other, gore dripping from its mouth. My stomach dropped in fear as it looked in my direction. I began to run, faster, as the wolf bore down upon me. It reached me, and it moved its head, nuzzling my arm. I stopped, stunned. I looked at it—it stood on two hind feet, like a man. It had midnight-black fur, and ice-blue eyes.
“You want me to come with you?” I asked in shock. The man-wolf nodded, and began to walk along the road. I followed, and it waited a few feet ahead for me to catch up. We walked in silence through the night. I was unsure of what to do. I needed to thank this…being for saving my life. We were in sight of Chatsworth House when the sun began to rise. The wolf paused, beginning to shift, and before I knew it, Michael stood before me, bleeding from various injuries inflicted by the other wolf-man. He looked at me warily, but I ran to him, wrapping my arms around him. I stood on my tiptoes, kissing him passionately.
“Mine?” he asked.
“Yours,” I replied. He smiled broadly, for the first time. He picked me up off of my feet, and carried me towards Chatsworth House.
Epilogue
Placing me on the bed, he began to run kisses down my neck, unbuttoning the blood-splattered blouse that I had been wearing. I took his face between my hands, bringing him back to my mouth, kissing him deeply. I sat up, helping him to remove my shirt. I reached forward, cupping him in the palm of my hand and feeling him stiffen. He inhaled sharply, taking my bra and ripping it, before throwing it aside. I laughed huskily as he did the same to my pants—I should have known my clothing wouldn’t survive sex with a werewolf.
He looked at me, running his hands along my sides, and goosebumps rose along my skin. I leaned back into the bed, arching my back, and letting him slide my panties off. I could feel myself responding to him as he cupped my mound, feeling the wetness of my desire for him as he slowly entered me.
I moaned as he began to pump, rotating his hips so that he was hitting against my most sensitive parts. He placed a large hand on my stomach, and ran the flat of his palm upwards. I felt myself building—it was kinetic.
He began to pump harder, and I felt myself coming undone in waves, crying out as we reached crisis together.
Michael held me tightly in his arms, our bodies entwined beneath the sheets. I lay with my head on his chest, listening to his heart beat beneath my ear.
“I was bitten three years ago,” he said, “by a werewolf who disappeared from the area shortly after. He either returned every few years, or was able to go dormant. I only knew because he would commit carnage that I would have to worry I would be hunted for. I couldn’t figure out who he was or why his pattern was so strange. I believed that he was either a migrant worker, or wealthy enough to travel often. It wasn’t until you introduced Damien to me that I figured anything out.”
“His job as a travel blogger would certainly explain the disappearances.”
“It did. That and the fact that he told me what he did. Evidently, ruining the life of a billionaire was a comfort to him.”
“So the cage was to keep you from hurting people?”
“Yeah. First Mary, and then you. Soraya trained with firearms after I was bitten, and so was able to take care of herself. I’m learning control, but only very slowly.”
“What about last night?”
“When I knew that you would be getting back after dark, I knew Damien would be out. I had to protect you.”
“Aw,” I said. He held my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and looked me in the eye.
“I fought my feelings, to protect you from me, but you are…my mate,” he said. “I’m part wolf, so that’s as romantic as it gets.”
“Pretty romantic,” I replied, kissing him. “I like that you’re part wolf.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes. I’m a dog person, you know.”
“Lucky me.” He was grinning, though.
~*~
THE END
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The Night I Was Rescued
~ Bonus Story ~
A Steamy Werewolf Shifter Romance
“This should suit you.” He went over to the dresser, and pulled out black lace lingerie, that would cover nothing. He walked around behind me, using his fingertips to ease the straps of my wrinkled, sweat-infused dress. I stiffened, feeling deeply uncomfortable with this, but it seemed that I had no choice.
“Don’t—” I started.”
~
Ness has recently run away from her privileged life in Boston, seeking the peace and quiet of small-town America. Soon though, she will find out that Wimberley, Texas may be more “different” than she expected.
Vampires and werewolves are real, and Ness will land right in the middle of their ancient feud. Also, the Palmers seem to have a special attraction to her, a link that may have started even before Ness moved to their turf. So when Owen, a werewolf, intervenes and rescues Ness from the fangs of the vampires, she will become the focus of their of an ancestral fight.
Hanging out with werewolves is not without perils though, and with the full moon approaching, Ness may be in more danger than she realizes around the gorgeously handsome Owen. Will she fall for him? Or will the appeal of living forever as a vampire seduce her?
* * *
My black patent heels clicked on the uneven sidewalk. Sweat was already dripping from my forehead, and smearing my carefully applied makeup. The sun had just set, but the air still felt like a convection oven. I was glad that I’d chosen my black dress, because the short walk from the small house I’d rented off of Main Street to my destination was definitely going to leave sweat stains under my arms and around the low-cut collar of the dress. I had, only very recently moved to Wimberley, a small town in east Texas, surrounded by quiet pine woods and farmlands. It had a small downtown area, where I had gotten a job as a baker in the only coffee shop, Dot’s. I passed the spare-looking buildings of the one-street downtown area. Everything seemed so simple there. I was very quickly going to learn how complicated things were in Wimberley.
I was on my way to The Ice House, the local bar and hang out. It was painted barn-red on the outside, and had a parking lot full of trucks and a few well-worn motorcycles. When I swung the door open, I noticed immediately that I was overdressed in my slinky black dress and heels. All of the other girls wore jean shorts, plaid shirts or tight, belly-baring t-shirts, and everyone was wearing cowboy boots. I was dressed for a night on the town in Boston, where I’d just run away from my life as a trust fund kid pursuing a law degree to please my parents.
“Hey City Mouse!” Kelly held up her hand and waved to me, her blonde curls bouncing. I felt really uncomfortable, but excited at the same time, since this was my first invitation to go out with the locals. Kelly and Ella also worked at Dot’s, but they waitressed out front while I was always tucked away in the bakery out in the back.
“That dress is lovely,” Ella said, pushing out a bar stool with her booted foot for me.
“Thanks,” I said. “Target.”
“Get outta town,” Kelly said. “Whatcha drinkin’?”
“Vodka tonic?” It was my go-to.
“Not here, you’re not,” Kelly said, then yelled to the bartender, a thickly muscled man in tight jeans and an equally tight plaid shirt with sleeves cuffed to show off his tattoos: “Hey Cam! Corona over here for the City Mouse!” Cam nodded, pulling a Corona out of the glass-front fridge and uncapping it with his teeth, then slipping a lime wedge into the neck. He slid it over to me on the bar.
“Two dollars, Honey,” he smiled warmly. He was sexy in a Momma’s boy gone bad kind of way.
“Two dollars? That’s it?” I couldn’t hide my shock as Cam nodded. “In Boston, it’d be at least six.”
“Welcome to Texas,” Kelly said, clinking her beer against mine, which still sat on the bar. I slid a few singles over to Cam. “Land of cheap beer, rare steaks, and affordable smokes. Let’s get us a table, ladies.”
We walked over to a booth in the front wall of the bar, where we could still be seen by other clientele, but also had a fantastic view of the pool tables, where some games were just getting started. I wanted to laugh, because I realized that everything that is stereotyped about Texas is not a joke. Just about everyone was wearing a cowboy hat and boots, and there was a group of twenty-somethings just starting the two-step in the dance floor in the very center of The Ice House.
As I looked around, though, I noticed that some people were definitely bucking the stereotype. Standing against a wall that was decorated by multi-colored Christmas lights, framed front pages of old newspapers, and a stuffed buck’s head were three men. They all had remarkably pale skin. In the few short weeks that I’d lived in Wimberley, my skin had toasted into a light golden tan. But these men looked as though they lived underground. It was only exacerbated by the fact that they were all wearing black. They looked as though they belonged in Boston, one dressed in a fitted t-shirt, another in a soot-colored oxford, and the third in a black polo. They stood there, expressionless, not speaking, watching everyone else in the bar. Suddenly, the one in the polo looked over at me, and I realized that his eyes were a strange golden color, almost glowing. We stared at each other, and I got the very sincere feeling that he wanted to eat me. I gasped and looked away quickly. Ella noticed where my attention had been.
Forced Page 26
