But apparently, this situation was too much even for Troy. "What about the woman who was driving?" he asked as he poked around in the tangle of engine parts. "What happened to her?"
Zeke didn't lie—especially not to his brothers—so he simply kept his mouth shut.
"You planning on telling me anything?" Troy asked when he had finished examining the engine. He wiped his hands on his battered and faded work coveralls.
"Only that I'd really appreciate it if you could haul this wreck off the road to your garage as soon as possible."
Troy crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Not until you give me a little more to go on. Sorry, brother, I may owe you but that doesn't mean I'm going to bust my ass when I don't even know who the client is. Especially when it's a beta."
Zeke felt the corner of his right eye twitch and quickly turned away so Troy couldn't see—it was his unfailing tell and the reason he'd had to stop playing poker with Randall. "I'm your damn client. It would be my name on the invoice if you ever got around to writing one."
"Bullshit."
"It ain't bullshit," Zeke shot back. "It's just none of your damned business."
"Wrong," Troy said, leaning against the wreck. The twisted mass of metal groaned under his weight. "It became my business when you dragged my ass out here. This car reeks of frightened woman, beta blood, and gunpowder. And you didn't think I wouldn't notice you've been shot, did you?"
Zeke winced. Actually, he'd been hoping against hope that he'd managed to conceal the scent of his wounds under several layers of bandages—a hopeless prospect when another alpha was standing a few feet away.
"Bullet just grazed me," he lied, digging himself deeper.
Troy snorted. "Again, I call bullshit—it isn't grazing when it leaves a bunch of holes in you. If you want me to work a goddamned miracle on this hunk of junk, you're gonna need to tell me what the hell is going on."
Zeke growled in frustration. Why was everything so much harder than it needed to be?
"The woman is fine," he snapped, giving up. "Why the hell else would I need the car fixed?"
"Where is she?"
Zeke felt his blood start to boil. "Now that is truly none of your business."
"You're hiding her," Troy said, peering at him closely. "Why?"
Great—so now his friend had suddenly decided to play Nancy Drew.
"Ain't your business," he repeated.
Troy tilted his head back and breathed deeply, testing the air. What he found seemed to confound him. "Her nature didn't shift. She's not an omega."
Only one of those statements was true.
"You didn't pull a Samson, did you?" Troy pressed. "Because falling for a beta—"
"Troy…" Zeke growled a warning.
Troy raised his hands in defeat and pushed himself away from the car.
"Yeah, yeah. Not my business. Got it," he said. "Only I'm just trying to look out for you, brother. I realize that a tasty little beta might seem like an easier prospect, but trust me on this—you have no idea what it's like with an omega."
Zeke forced his expression to stay neutral, but the poor bastard had no idea just wrong he was. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly, counting to ten. The last thing he needed right now was to lose his cool.
This should have been simple. Troy fixed cars. Troy was his friend. Darcy's car should have already been off the road and on its way to Troy's garage before any of their alpha brothers could pass by and start asking these same questions.
"So you'll fix it," he boomed, a statement rather than a question.
Troy rolled his eyes. "It won't be easy, and it won't be quick, but by the time I'm done, it'll be running a hell of a lot better than before it slammed into this tree."
Good. Zeke finally allowed himself to relax a little, some of the tension leaving his body.
One problem solved.
"How long do you think it'll take?"
Samson shrugged. "Four, maybe five weeks."
Weeks? No fucking way.
"Can't you get it done faster?"
Samson laughed. "Brother, I'm going to have to rebuild this thing from top to bottom with spare parts. You're damned lucky I'm agreeing to do it at all."
Zeke stifled a howl, gritting his teeth and tensing his muscles. A deep, angry growl rumbled in his chest.
As much as he hated to admit it, Troy was right. There was no quick fix here.
Which meant he was stuck with Darcy for at least a month. And it didn't matter if she kept her promise and stayed out of sight—she'd still be living in his woodshed only a few yards away, her scent polluting every bit of air around his cabin, slipping through the windows as he slept and invading his dreams.
Zeke balled his hands into fists at his side. He might have to white-knuckle his way through the next month, but he'd survive—because the alternative was so much worse.
"Hold up, it isn't that bad," Troy said, obviously alarmed by the look on Zeke's face. "It's a few weeks of work, not a death sentence. I might even be able to put in a few long nights and shave a couple of days off that estimate if I knew the whole story behind this wreck."
The anger Zeke had been holding back boiled over, and heat rose in his face. He took a tense step, closing the distance between them.
"Let's get one thing straight. You ever try to bribe me again—you tell anyone about this car or the woman in it—I will rip your damn throat out. Got it?"
"Got it." Troy's expression didn't change, the trace of a smile still on his lips, but he tilted his head down slightly and raised his hands to signal acquiescence.
Of all the alphas in the Boundarylands, Troy knew first-hand the violence Zeke was capable of. He'd been there to see it with his own eyes.
Zeke didn't relish the thought of going after an alpha brother—the whole damn reason he was hiding Darcy on his land was to protect them from her.
Long ago, he'd learned the hard way what the consequences of letting a train wreck of a woman into his life were. He wasn't about to subject his brothers to that same cruel lesson.
"Good," he said tersely. "Then consider your debt paid, and let me know when it's done."
"Will do," Troy said, as Zeke started back toward his property. He had almost reached the tree line when Troy called after him. "And Zeke."
Zeke paused and looked back over his shoulder. "What?"
"I know you're not a fan of my sense of humor, brother, and sometimes we rub each other the wrong way."
True enough. Zeke waited, wondering where Troy was going with this.
"But just know I've always got your back," the younger alpha said in a rush. "So if whatever trouble you're not telling about comes back, I'll be here the second you need me."
Zeke grunted his thanks. Yeah, he knew.
But if trouble came looking for him again, Zeke would make damned sure he didn't need any help. Because that lesson he'd learned might as well have been burned into his skin.
Sometimes, you had to be cruel to be kind.
Darcy didn't realize she'd fallen asleep until three hard raps on the woodshed door jolted her awake.
Bright sunlight assaulted her when she pulled the covers off her face. The sleepy fog inside her head dissipated as she sat up and looked frantically around the small room, trying to get her bearings and remember how she ended up here.
Her boots lay on the floor, crusted with mud and other stains that she didn't want to think about.
The acrid taste of fear rushed back a split second later. Danger had chased her into the Boundarylands, and a whole other brand of danger had brought her to this door. Darcy only hoped that she'd chosen the lesser of two evils.
She jumped up off the cot and scanned the shelves for some kind of weapon.
An attacker probably wouldn't be polite enough to knock, the little voice said helpfully.
But whoever was out there hadn't knocked so much as threatened to blow the door off its heavy iron hinges.
I'll huff, and I'll puff, a
nd I'll blow your house in.
Darcy grabbed a heavy wrench off the workbench and gripped it tightly as she crept toward the door.
"Who's there?" she called, trying to keep the fear from her voice.
There was no answer. Darcy slowly pressed her ear to the door, wincing as she accidentally rattled the knob—but even after several moments passed, she didn't hear anything.
Deciding to risk it, Darcy took a deep breath and held it as she slowly turned the knob and cracked the door open.
There wasn't anyone there.
But a delicious aroma rose to her nostrils. Darcy looked down: at her feet was a bowl of stewed meat and vegetables over a mound of rice.
Zeke had said he would come by with lunch later, Darcy remembered. Apparently, this was later.
She picked up the bowl and took a few steps out onto the walk, the sun-warmed concrete feeling good on her bare feet. She looked around, but there was no trace of the alpha.
Apparently, when Zeke said he'd wanted her to stay out of his way, he meant it. Guess she'd have to write him a thank you note and leave it outside with the dishes when she was done.
Not funny, the voice chided her.
Darcy knew she needed to be thinking the same way. The less she saw of Zeke, the better. He might have given her a place to hide out, but he was still an alpha—a terrifying seven and-a-half-foot-tall beast who prowled the woods for sport.
Fate had delivered Darcy her very own real-life big, bad wolf.
She lifted the bowl to her face and gave it a sniff. Her stomach nearly cried with anticipation.
She yelled a thank you just in case the alpha was somewhere he could hear her, and ducked back inside the woodshed, bolting the door securely. Settling down cross-legged on the cot, she dug into her lunch.
Damn, it tasted good, and not just because it was the first thing she'd had to eat in ages. The rich stew was redolent with braised onions and cracked pepper, perfectly simmered potatoes, carrots, and turnips. Darcy had to force herself not to shovel it down too quickly, but it was still gone in no time at all.
When she had scraped the last of it from the bowl, she got up to gaze out one of the small windows. She found the sun already dipping down toward the horizon.
She'd slept through most of the day.
It wasn't really surprising.
Darcy had been riding on nothing but fumes when she'd finally finished making the shed into the world's smallest one-bedroom apartment, the contents of her backpack neatly stored under the cot. Adrenaline had been the only thing keeping her going, and the moment she collapsed, her body had seized the rest it needed.
Now she felt a little better, at least in the energy department. Her cuts and bruises—not so much.
She'd been too tired to change into clean clothes earlier, and her cropped sweater and miniskirt were starting to stink. Her hair was matted and wild, and the scrapes on her arms and legs were red and raw.
Even her face felt swollen. She was almost glad there was no mirror to check how it had fared, but judging by the purple bruises dotting the rest of her body, it was bound to be bad.
Now that she'd slept and eaten, Darcy longed for a bath…and maybe a bonfire to burn her clothes.
Unfortunately, an alpha who wouldn't even show his face while dropping off her lunch probably wouldn't be too keen on letting her use his bathroom either.
Darcy didn't want to ask, anyway. He'd done so much for her already. The last thing she wanted was to make herself more a burden.
After all, she needed to stay in his good graces for at least a little while.
Darcy searched her memory of walking through Zeke's land, trying to remember if she’d seen anything like a pool of water or a pond that could substitute for a bathtub. There was the creek just outside his cabin door, but that was too close.
But maybe if she followed it deeper into the woods, she'd find a wide spot remote enough to give her some privacy.
Sure, Zeke had told her to stay put, but obviously he hadn't meant for her to stay inside the woodshed indefinitely—there wasn't even anywhere to pee. What her reclusive savior really wanted her to do was to keep out of his way.
And that was precisely what Darcy meant to do.
Chapter Six
Holy shit.
Darcy forgot to breathe as she gaped at the water flowing down the alpha's bare back. She couldn't turn away from the sight of his burnished golden-brown skin glistening in the afternoon sun, his muscles rippling as he emerged from the water. And when he shook the water out of his hair, she felt her knees go weak.
Darcy angled herself behind a tree, wanting to enjoy the view just a little longer. She'd managed to haul her sore, bone-weary body down the path of the meandering creek until she found this sparkling cool green pond nestled in the saddle of the forested foothills.
But as it turned out, she wasn't the only one who'd decided on a late afternoon swim.
Zeke was in the center of the pool…naked from the waist up.
Shit, he was probably naked for the waist down, too, but Darcy couldn't see below the water's surface. Even worse, she couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.
What she did know was that she could stare at a view like this for hours.
Zeke had been impressive enough with his clothes on. His strength was evident in the way his massive shoulders strained the fabric of his shirt, his broad chest narrowing to a flat stomach and a magnificent ass. She'd always gravitated to men with dark coloring, and they didn't get much darker than Zeke's flinty deep emerald eyes and the black hair plastered to his neck and stubbling his jaw.
But now, Darcy could see nearly every finely chiseled inch of his body.
What she didn’t see, however, were bullet holes. There were a trio of small red marks dotting his side, but they were hardly the type of gaping wounds that could have been leaking blood just hours ago.
Apparently, Zeke hadn’t been blowing smoke up her ass when he’d insisted he didn’t need a hospital or even bandages. His body had healed itself at supernatural speed.
No. Not supernatural—at alpha speed.
The fine hairs on the back of Darcy’s neck stood up in warning.
Watch out, sister.
Darcy wasn't known for making smart choices when temptation came in a package like this. Her body had already cast its vote, her blood starting to simmer. The only thing that special warm place deep inside her wanted to know was what the holdup was.
Damn. Zeke might be a terrifying, dangerous alpha—but he was also one hell of a man.
It didn't help when he cupped his hands and lifted them above his head, sending another rush of water running down the length of his back.
What Darcy wouldn't give to run her hands along that smooth expanse of skin. Her fingers could circle around to the front and skim over his sculpted abs before dipping down below the water's surface to—
She shook her head to clear it.
She had to stop. She wasn't prowling the happy hour at Ducett's Tavern. She was on the run, exposed, in very real danger. If she had any sense left, she'd head back the way she'd come to the woodshed.
Instead, Darcy leaned back against the tree out of sight and closed her eyes to think.
Sure, she had spent some time alone in the dark, imagining what it would be like to fuck an alpha. Didn't all beta women at some point? It was a nice, harmless fantasy.
But this wasn't a fantasy.
This was real. Zeke was real. And huge. And scary as hell, she reminded herself. Lusting after him was a very bad idea.
It wasn't as if she actually wanted to fuck him. That would be crazy. Everyone knew that beta women could be literally torn apart by the power of their rutting.
But we're just looking.
And here she'd thought the voice was trying to keep her out of trouble.
Darcy peered around the redwood's mossy trunk, just in time to catch Zeke turning around and showing off his wet, broad, and absolutely perfect chest.
>
She gripped the tree to keep from falling to the ground.
Darcy had spent her whole life chasing after bad boys, craving the thrill of their reckless unpredictability, their indifference to authority…but just one look at Zeke with his shirt off made them all fade into the background.
This alpha wasn't a bad boy. He was a fucking man—an uncompromising, resolute, towering force of an alpha. Zeke wasn't some adolescent fantasy…he was the real deal.
A little too real, if Darcy was honest with herself.
Half the excitement of being with rough guys was knowing that there were no strings attached. That Darcy could have her fun, and then simply walk away.
At least, that's what she had always believed, right up until the moment she made the disastrous decision to go home with Scott. The consequences of that decision would haunt the rest of her life.
But getting with an alpha might end it.
Still, there was no harm in watching him a little longer. She'd need something to think about while she spent however long cooped up in the woodshed.
Luckily, Zeke didn't bother to scan the shore of the little lake as he continued to douse himself with water. She watched as he pushed his hair back, his biceps flexing, the muscles of his shoulders and torso tensing and tightening.
Darcy let out a rapturous sigh. The alpha's body was nothing short of perfection.
Unfortunately, a moment later, the show came to an end as Zeke started toward the shore. Darcy retreated behind the tree. Though she longed to watch him emerge from the water and stand dripping in all his naked glory on the smooth rock where he'd left his clothes, she didn't dare.
The last thing she needed was to get caught now. She could probably talk her way out of watching him swim—after all, she'd come up here to take a bath, not to spy on him—but gawking at a guy while he pulled on his pants was another story.
Darcy concentrated on staying perfectly still and not making a sound. A moment later, she heard the sound of his footsteps walking away.
She let out the breath she'd been holding, her heart hammering. That was close.
Zeke: The Boundarylands Page 4
