Frost Security: The Complete 5 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Fuel?”

  He nodded. “Got enough. Need to catch up on the wood, though. Know how Peter gets if there’s not a whole chord before winter. You should probably chop some, given a chance and some boredom.”

  “Well, there’s nothing else to do up here, is there?”

  “Hiking in the woods,” Jessica offered.

  I nodded. “Trails are tough, but you might like them. Mostly uphill.”

  “Alright,” Frank said finally, “I’m heading back down. Radio’s working if there’s anything y’all need, okay?”

  “Why not just call?” Jessica asked.

  “Cells don’t reach, remember?” I replied. “Not unless you have a satellite phone, that is. Out here we’re about as off the grid as you’re going to get.”

  She nodded. “Got it.”

  Frank turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks and looked back to me. “Head out with me to the car, buddy?”

  I thought it was odd, but shrugged and went along with him anyways. I stopped at the screen door and turned back to Jessica. “Pick out whichever room you want, I’ll take one of the others. I’m not picky.”

  “Sure,” she replied. She grabbed her bag and headed down the hallway to the bedrooms.

  I joined Frank on the porch and stepped down, heading out to his old Mustang with him.

  He stopped next to his car and leaned back against it. “Found the one, huh, buddy? Found your mate?”

  I was immediately taken aback by his words, all the sense knocked from my head. “My mate?” I sputtered. “What? Excuse me?”

  He laughed dryly, shook his head. “Frost not say anything about it? Assuming he knew since he was in town to see the client.”

  I rounded back to my original question and leaned in closer, more intently. “My mate?”

  I wasn’t raised by shifters, not really. My father was one, but he’d left his pack because they wouldn’t let him be with a non-shifter. Said it was immoral, that it contaminated the bloodline. I wasn’t old enough to understand when he died in the car accident, and he never told me to my face. Instead, my mother gave me a letter when I came of age, telling me about my lineage. It didn’t have much else in it, other than that I was a shifter, and there were others like me in the world. Mom told me he wanted me to be my own man, not wound up in the old world’s ideas of what I should be.

  Frank clapped me on the shoulder, leaned in close, and looked me in the eye. “Your mate. The person you’re meant to be with. You can smell her, can’t you?”

  I nodded, my eyes intently returning his gaze.

  He squeezed my shoulder and gave me a rare smile. “My uncles always said it had been the most unique smell in the whole world for them, that they’d never been able to get it out of their minds or noses. Ain’t shit else like it, buddy, and I’m glad you found her.”

  This was probably only the third or fourth time I’d heard Frank discuss his past before the military or his job after the service as a private bodyguard in South America. Most soldiers, they came back from the war not willing to discuss anything that happened over there. Frank, though, Frank was different in that regard. He was an open book on most things except for his childhood.

  “How could you tell? I mean, about me?”

  “You,” he said, chuckling. “There was just something different about you when I got back from Denver, then I saw what it was on the side of the road. Know how we all changed after the service, how we can all spot other guys that have seen combat? It’s like that.”

  I shook my head. “This is just unbelievable. People don’t—we don’t mate like that. People don’t–”

  “We ain’t people, Richard,” Frank said, cutting me off. “Shifter blood, remember? Turn into a fucking wolf at night, and only silver can kill us. Think we’re the same as humans? Think the same rules apply? That’s just crazy to think that. You’re a wolf, not a man.”

  Things made more sense now. The way I was drawn to Jessica Long, the way I felt about her, the way her smell had hit me like a hurricane the first moment I’d been in the room with her. But it was still crazy, wasn’t it? To think that some person was destined for me like this? I stepped back a little. “What if—what if she doesn’t return, you know, my feelings?”

  He threw back his head and roared with laughter. “I saw the way you were holding each other when I drove up earlier. You’re a fucking idiot if you’re worried. She can’t keep her eyes off you when you’re around.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “Think so?” His words made my confidence level go up from zero perecent to one.

  “Know so,” he said, pressing a finger to the side of his nose. “My eyes may deceive me, but this nose don’t lie. So just admit it.”

  I shook my head in disbelief and sighed, looking back up to the cabin. “You’re right,” I finally said, “I can’t get her out of my mind. She’s just, God, she’s just beautiful and funny and sweet and strong–”

  He took his hand off my shoulder. “Keep it to yourself, buddy. Not all of us are so lucky, if you catch my drift. I just didn’t know if Peter had told you or not, and I wanted to congratulate you on finding her, that’s all.”

  I turned back to him, wincing a little as I realized how he might feel like I was gloating or lording it over his head “Sorry,” I said apologetically. “I wasn’t thinking, man.”

  He shrugged, held up a hand. “Forget about it. No offense taken. Now, though, we need to make sure Jessica’s safe. Need to focus on that. Agreed?”

  I nodded. “Agreed. I need you to speak to Sheriff Peak when you get back into town. I would have done it myself, but I wanted her safe and out of harm’s way first. Tell him what happened on the road, best as you can, and about how we think the Skull and Bones MC are involved. Lacy’s got a dossier on them put together if you need some more information. Sooner he can get involved, I think, the better off we’ll be. Maybe he can even make an arrest in the case.”

  Frank nodded again as he got into his car. “I’ll call Lacy soon as I have reception.”

  “Good,” I said, stepping away from the car. “Any problems, get in touch Peter. He should be back in town soon, but you should be able to reach him by phone if there are any issues or questions.”

  “Will do,” he replied before climbing in and shutting the door. As he started up the engine, I turned to leave. “Hey, Murdoch” he called as I walked away.

  I spun around to face Frank. “Yeah?”

  “You only get one mate for life,” he said. “Keep her safe, and don’t let anything happen to her.”

  I nodded. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

  He nodded and pulled out of the little drive, turned the wheels on his old, previously pristine Mustang, and headed back down the mountain towards Enchanted Rock.

  I watched him as he navigated the mountain road for the next minute or so, his car shifted into a low gear as he took the decline.

  My mate, huh? That’s what Jessica was? Was this how my parents had felt about each other? Like they were being pulled together by destiny, drawn to one another despite traditions of my dad’s pack? Had the feelings been so strong that he’d defied them entirely? I shook my head, still in disbelief about what Frank had told me.

  Jess and I, we had the next few days together. Alone. And Frank seemed to think she shared my feelings, at least partially. I kicked a loose roc, sending it flying off into the grass and undergrowth beneath a stand of nearby pine trees, and headed back up into the cabin. I still had some wood to chop, but first I needed to see how Jessica was settling in.

  I hoped Frank was right about her. If he wasn’t, I didn’t know what I was going to do. Not with the job, of course. My dedication to the mission, and to perform it fully, wasn’t even in question. What was in question, though, was how I’d go through everything else when this was all said and done. If I couldn’t have Jessica, I guess I’d muddle through somehow. I would have no choice.

  Chapter Thirty – Jessica

  If you had asked me
when I was a senior in college if I ever thought I'd settle down in a little cabin in the mountains, cooking dinner every night and baking on the weekends, I would have told you to go screw yourself. It just wasn’t something I wanted. It's not that I ever begrudged other women who searched for this kind of domestic bliss, but I couldn’t picture myself doing the same thing and having it feel right.

  Now, as I cut potatoes and waited for the water to boil with the sound of Richard chopping wood outside the cabin, I felt a certain sense of peace. Even with all the shit going on in the world outside, I still felt like I was protected here, safe from the slings and arrows of the men trying to terrorize me. I realized then what those people had been craving: safety, security, and certainty.

  I knew, of course, on a rational level, that this was all false, even as I pulled two steaks from the refrigerator and set them out on the counter so they could come to room temperature before I rubbed them down with seasoning. I was feeling this sense of security, of certainty, in a safe house with a man I was paying to protect me. But no matter how much rationality I used, I still couldn’t shake how right this place and moment felt. Not necessarily because I was in a domestic situation. No, not that. But, ridiculously, that I was in this domestic scenario with Richard.

  I'd only just met the man, but something about him just made me feel safe and special—cherished even. Like an intangible bond, deeper than I understood with my rational mind, connected us. A link between myself and him. From the way he handled the dogs to the way he could tenderly pull me into his arms and I’d be instantly assured that the world would be a better place someday.

  For example, with Frank O’Dwyer, I knew I would feel physically safe if it was only me and him. I could tell with just one glance that he was a competent defender, that he’d been doing this bodyguard thing for a while, and had been working security for years. But he didn’t instill the same sense of that peace that Richard did. It was like having a gun around the house. The gun would protect me, maybe, but the gun wouldn’t ever let me forget that the outside world was dangerous. That was the difference between them. Frank could protect me. Richard, on the other hand, could make the world seem less out for blood.

  I generously salted the water as it approached a rapid boil and dropped the potatoes in. The steak would be warmer soon, and the guys kept a couple cast iron skillets around that would be perfect for them.

  I turned the gas oven on as Richard’s ax thunked into the wood again, that distinctive crack of the log as it split apart beneath the steel blade. I glanced out the window and caught sight of him again. He’d stripped his shirt off and tossed it aside. I guess he’d taken the challenge of replenishing the firewood seriously, and he already had a sheen of sweat covering his back and arms, his tattoos trailing down his side.

  I bit my lip with a little groan before I caught myself staring. I shook my head with a little giggle. This was still ridiculous, and I knew it. I pulled the steaks over in front of me and began seasoning them with salt and pepper. Nothing more, nothing less.

  No matter how Richard made me feel, that didn’t mean he felt that way about me. Did he? I glanced through the window again, just in time to catch him looking back at me through the glass as he wiped his shirt over his sweat sheened chest. It seemed he’d been watching for a while. He smiled a little before turning back and hefting the ax in his hands.

  Had he been looking right back at me? Just now, in that exact same way? A little thrill went through my body, a bizarre trill of excitement. I smiled and shook my head, and went back to seasoning the steaks.

  Could I have been wrong? Could he have felt the same? Suddenly, I felt as giddy as a school girl. Maybe, just maybe, he did. Whatever the case, I knew I had at least three days to find out one way or the other. Who cared if I had a deadly biker gang out looking for me during that time? I’d be here with Richard, wouldn’t I?

  Clearly I had no self control because I glanced back up, only to find him looking back over his shoulder at me, those cool gray eyes of his intense as they locked with mine. I smiled again, a little lopsided smile, and lowered my eyes as I bit my lip.

  “Three days, Jess,” I whispered. “Maybe even a freaking week.”

  The sound of Richard chopping wood resumed, each strike echoing back from the mountains like God himself was stocking up the winter pile. I checked on the potatoes in the boiling water and set the steaks aside.

  I could get used to this, I thought, this whole cooking for two. Maybe even more, like perhaps for a little boy and a little girl. I really could.

  Chapter Thirty-one – Richard

  There’s something meditative about hard, repetitive work. It was like what Mr. Miyagi taught in The Karate Kid. Sure, chopping wood didn’t teach me anything about fighting techniques, but it still gave me a good workout and let me clear my mind.

  And, after my discussion with Frank out front, I needed to clear some of the clutter. If what he’d told me was true, Peter had known about my feelings for Jessica the moment he’d seen us together. He was as aware of my background as any of the other guys. More so, probably. Why had he withheld the information? Just to screw with me?

  I grunted as I swung the ax head down, splitting the log into two staves with a single strike.

  Did he want to hide the truth, just like my dad had? Make me figure it out on my own? I still resented my old man for hiding the facts from me, still held it against him that he hadn’t put his parents’ contact information in that old letter my mom gave to me when I was old enough. So many questions would have been answered for me. I know I wouldn’t have had a normal life like a human, or anything. But maybe I’d have some kind of grip on who I was, what kind of world I was really from?

  It wasn’t Peter’s place to hold that back from me when he saw it coming.

  I picked up another log, put it on our chopping stump, and set it up to go. I hefted the ax over my head and brought it down with both hands like a barbarian lumberjack. The thud and the crack of the wood splitting in twain gave me a visceral kind of joy, and I set up another in its place.

  Of course, the flip-side of the coin was that Peter might not have felt it his place to tell me. He wasn’t my father, he wasn’t my older brother. He was my pack leader. Maybe, to him, his responsibility to me didn’t extend into my love life.

  I picked up the split logs, piling them up in my naked arms, and walked them to the back wall of the house, stacking them with the rest. The cool mountain air blew over my bare skin, feeling wonderful on the layer of sweat that covered my naked, lightly furred chest. I could live like this forever, I realized. Me out here, chopping wood, taking care of the homestead. A beautiful woman, Jessica, inside, waiting for me.

  I mean, I’d still cook at times and wouldn’t leave all the chores to my partner. That’d just be stupid. I would hope I’d end up with a woman who didn’t want to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, just making me sandwiches while I did man’s work around the house. That wasn’t my style at all.

  But, as far as cooking went, there was something about the alchemy of it and baking that was just totally beguiling to me. Creating a meal from nothing? It seemed more complicated than splitting logs in two or fighting off some biker.

  But living out here in a place like this with a woman like Jessica? I could see that. I tossed the staves on the pile, made sure they were stacked properly up against the back of the cabin, and grabbed a pile of unhewn logs before heading back to the chopping stump. I dropped them on the grass next to the axe and placed one on the stump before resuming my chopping.

  I just hoped Frank would be able to get Sheriff Peak to do something. That he’d be able to make him shit or get off the pot. Otherwise, we’d be in an all-out shooting war with the Skull and Bones before everything was said and done. And it wouldn’t be them who started it, either. I had no qualms with killing a man. I’d done it plenty of times in Afghanistan.

  If it came to protecting my mate, even if she and I weren’t official
in any way, shape, form, or fashion? I’d kill Wyatt in a heartbeat. Especially if he didn’t back off. It was the law of the wild out here, sometimes, and I was a wolf. I didn’t need a lawyer to explain the vagaries of kill-or-be-killed to me. I’d seen it, participated in it, lived it. If the Skull and Bones wanted to come at Jess with more force than last time, to try and touch one single hair on her head, I’d come back twice as hard, three times as mean. I’d make them scream for their mommies and daddies before I was done with them.

  My ears perked as I heard the front screen door open and close, the quiet thud of feminine feet on hollow deck. I turned around as I wiped the sweat from my brow with my forearm. Jessica came around the corner, a vision of loveliness even in this place of beauty.

  “Dinner’s almost ready,” Jessica called, her hand held up to shield her eyes from the dying sun. She looked gorgeous, ephemeral like that, with the light seeming to halo her figure.

  “Thanks,” I said. “What’re we having?”

  “Steak and potatoes.”

  “Delicious,” I replied with a wolfish grin. “Let me get cleaned up here and I’ll head in.”

  “Want me to start a fire while I wait?” she asked, pointing to the logs as she came closer.

  “Don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I said. “I can handle it.”

  “I think I can start a fire,” she said, slightly sarcastic. “Or is that not a woman’s work?”

  I laughed and leaned down to grab my shirt. “I don’t really think about women’s or men’s work. I think people should just do what they need to do, specifically what they’re good at. And, if they’re not any good, they should try and get better. Is that so wrong?”

  She laughed. “No, that’s not wrong at all. Almost feminist, actually.”

  “Feminist, huh? Pretty sure I’ve never been called one of those before.”

  “Well, I went to college,” she said, putting her hands on her hips, “and I read some books. And you sound like one.”