Knowing Claire (The Possessed Series Book 1)

by Tressa Rabbit

  He shook off his negative thoughts and moved down the hall to her bedroom. Her scent was strongest in there, alive, filling him with a euphoria he could drown in.

  Her bed taunted him, called to him, pulling at some invisible strings attached to his heart, tempting him forward. He stopped next to it, picked up her pillow and buried his face in it.

  Her flavor, the energy that made up Claire Bryson burned through his body like fire. With considerable effort he jerked back and returned the pillow to its home. He wasn’t going to find anything at this rate, pining away over her like the lovesick fool that he was.

  Jaxon moved about the room, searching drawers, closets, and under the bed. After coming up empty, he sifted through Victoria’s things before striding off to the kitchen.

  He jerked the first drawer open that he came to. It was obviously a catch-all similar to the one he had in his own home. There were receipts, a phonebook, and random pieces of paper scattered throughout the bottom, but nothing that told him where Claire or Victoria had gone.

  The phonebook caught his attention, and he fished it out. He opened the cover to the first page, and there, staring back at him was an address with the name “Aunt Frannie” above it. Jaxon ripped the page free and left the house, locking it behind him. He’d be willing to bet everything he owned that he’d find Tori there.

  * * * *

  Claire’s Aunt Frannie’s place was a blast from the past for Jaxon. The old, white farmhouse sat back away from the road, nestled under dozens of oak trees. A bench swing hung from the porch, swaying in the breeze, much like the one his grandparents used to sit in while having their morning coffee.

  Victoria’s car was parked in the drive next to Sarina’s, and Jaxon pulled in behind them. They would no doubt be surprised to see him here, but he had questions only they could answer.

  He got out and approached the porch with no small amount of anxiety. Tori met him at the door as if she’d known he would come. She stepped outside, closing the door softly behind her.

  “Frannie and Sarina are sleeping. We can talk out here.” She took a seat on one end of the swing, leaving room for him to join her.

  “You don’t seem surprised to see me here.” He sat next to her with his elbows on his knees.

  “I’m not. Although I’m not sure how you found me.”

  Jaxon glanced at her before returning his gaze to the ground between his boots. “I went in your house and found the address in the kitchen phonebook.”

  She jumped up and began to pace. “Shit. I have to go back. If you found me that easy, someone else—”

  “I took it with me.” He pulled the piece of paper from his pocket only to have her snatch it from his fingers.

  “Thank God.” She took up her previous seat and blew out a loud breath.

  “Why are you here, Tori? And don’t give me that bullshit about it being none of my business. Something stinks about this whole thing. First Claire runs off without a care for those who love her most, then you and Sarina? Talk to me, damn it.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about. Claire is gone, Jaxon. You need to accept that and let her go.”

  She jumped from the swing and marched toward the door.

  Jaxon’s next words stopped her in her tracks. “I love her, Tori. I’ve always loved her, and I can’t go on without her.”

  Her shoulders sagged, and she slowly turned to face him with tears swimming in her eyes. “I know you do. But please, I’m begging you; let this go…let her go. Please.”

  He stood and took a step toward her. “I can’t do that. I have to talk to her one more time—to tell her how much she means to me. I would die for her, Tori, and I’ll fucking die without her.”

  Victoria’s eyes slid shut, forcing her unshed tears to spill down her cheeks. “Forgive me, Claire.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Jaxon didn’t remember driving home. His brain was on information overload, but that paled in comparison to the rage burning inside his chest. Claire was out there somewhere, running for her life, and she was carrying his child.

  A baby. His heart somersaulted with the knowledge. Pride filled him with the thought of their lovemaking creating a life.

  If anything happened to Claire, he’d kill his father with his bare hands. Alfred had gone too far to ensure his son would be elected, and Jaxon had no intension of running for office. His only regret was that he hadn’t made that clear long ago.

  He packed a bag equipped with clothes, money, and his passport just in case she’d left the country. He prayed she hadn’t as he snatched up the phone, dialed his mother, and ran out the door.

  She picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

  “Mom, hey, it’s me. Is Dad around?” He jumped behind the wheel of his truck and started the engine.

  “He’s out of town. I thought you knew that.” She sounded distracted, and Jaxon took a calming breath, praying for patience.

  “I’ve been busy. I need to know where he went, and when he left.”

  “Oh? What’s been keeping you so busy? Please tell me it’s a girl. You haven’t—”

  “Mom,” he interrupted.

  “Sorry, I get carried away sometimes.” She droned on about being forgetful and how she’d love for Jaxon to visit more often until he was ready to rip his hair out by the roots.

  “I’ll stop in soon, I promise. Now tell me about Dad. I’m in a hurry.”

  “He left a couple of days ago,” she mumbled, already preoccupied with something else.

  “Do you know where he went?” Getting information from Melinda Sanders was equivalent to pulling teeth, he decided while gritting his own.

  “Somewhere in California. Let me think a minute.” She grew quiet for several seconds. He was just about to scream into the receiver when she continued. “Oh, yes. Los Angeles. I wonder what he’s doing there. I can’t remember what business he had to attend to. But you know your father.”

  “Thanks, Mom. I love you.” He ended the call.

  * * * *

  Mark Gleeson was exactly as Jaxon predicted he would be. He’d gotten the man’s name from Tori, and at this point was the only lead Jaxon had.

  “Can I help you?” Mark smiled, showing even white teeth.

  Countless bleach jobs, Jaxon surmised, studying the man in front of him. Jaxon had gone to the guy’s studio after checking the hotel, only to find out what he already knew. Claire had checked out weeks before with no forwarding address.

  “I’m looking for Claire Bryson,” Jaxon responded.

  “Aren’t we all? If you find the bitch, tell her she owes me thirty thousand dollars.”

  It took everything Jaxon had not to rip Gleeson’s throat out. If not for the fact that he needed information more than the satisfaction of watching the man bleed out, the idiot would be dead by now.

  Jaxon reached into his pocket and pulled out his checkbook. After making it out for the amount of Claire’s debt, he ripped it free and handed it to the asshole. “She doesn’t owe you anything.”

  Mark accepted the payment with a grin. “She must have done something pretty bad. You’re the second person to come looking for her in the last couple of days.”

  Jaxon grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the wall. “Wipe that look off your face and tell me what you know, or I’ll remove your veneers one by one.”

  Fear poured off Gleeson in waves, disgusting in its cowardly stench. “She had this driver, or whatever, who never left her side. They seemed pretty tight far as I could tell.”

  Jealousy was swift. “I need a name.”

  “Ben, something or other.”

  Jaxon tightened his grip on Mark’s shirt.

  “Whatley. Ben Whatley,” he wheezed.

  “Who came here before me looking for her?”

  “Alfred Sanders.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “The same thing I told you. Only he wasn’t willing to pay anymore than he already had.
”

  Jaxon let him go and spun on his heel. The pain of Alfred’s betrayal went bone-deep. His father was solely responsible for everything Claire had been through. The one man in life Jaxon had always trusted had been manipulating him for years, threatening those he loved.

  He burst from Mark Gleeson’s studio, sucking in great gulps of the night air. His wolf howled in desperation, clawing just beneath the surface, fighting to be free. He needed to run before he gave into the urge and slaughtered Gleeson. But it wasn’t Mark who truly deserved to be on the receiving end of Jaxon’s claws. No, that privilege belonged to Alfred.

  It took enormous effort for Jaxon to calm down enough to hail a cab. His eyes were on fire and his hands had lengthened painfully. He slipped on his Ray-Bans and climbed into the taxi’s back seat before rattling off the address of his hotel.

  “You okay, buddy?” The driver met his shaded gaze in the rearview mirror.

  “Just drive.” The deep timber of Jaxon’s voice ricocheted throughout the car in a guttural growl.

  “Sure thing.”

  The cab took off with a squeal, weaving in and out of traffic at a high rate of speed. The driver’s nervous energy filled the interior, feeding Jaxon’s beast. If he didn’t get control in the next few seconds, the cabbie would be delivering a full-grown wolf to his destination. How the hell would he explain that away?

  Jaxon thought of Claire’s smiling face, the laughter, the hopes and dreams they’d shared over the years. A calming sensation trickled through him with the warmth of a noonday sun. She’d always had that affect on him.

  With a quick flick of his wrist, Jaxon opened the door before the taxi came to a full stop. He tossed a hundred-dollar bill over the front seat, muttering a thank-you before jumping out and entering his hotel.

  Jaxon had chosen to stay across the street from Alfred as opposed to masking his scent. His father could sniff out a grain of sand in coffee grounds if it had been touched previously.

  He ran up the stairs to his room and took a seat in front of the window facing his father’s hotel. With a touch of his finger, he flipped on the receiver to the bug planted in Alfred’s quarters. Money went a long way in manipulating loyalties. You taught me well, Father.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Claire stared with dread at the plate of eggs in front of her. Her mouth watered in hunger, but her stomach rebelled.

  “You must try to eat, Little One. Little Two needs the nourishment,” Ben encouraged from across the table.

  “Little Two? You do realize that will stick with him for life.”

  Ben laughed. “Okay. Point taken. And are you so sure it’s a boy?”

  “I am. I have no idea how I know. I just do.”

  “You would be correct, Claire love. It’s a wee male you carry.”

  Claire’s chest constricted with emotion. Jaxon would never hold his son in his arms, never have the chance to be a father to him.

  “He’s a miracle, Ben. A precious gift from God that I will forever be grateful for.”

  “I still think you should tell Jaxon about the babe. He has a right to know.”

  “I can’t risk Alfred finding out. You know what he’ll do to my mother and Victoria.”

  “There is one other alternative.” He watched her from beneath bushy eyebrows.

  “We are not killing Jaxon’s father, Ben. End of story.” Though it would solve everyone’s problems, the thought of taking Alfred’s life was wrong to her on so many levels.

  “Fine, but if he hurts you or the babe, all bets are off where I’m concerned. I’ll end his very existence and rid the world of his poison before he can bat an eye. Now eat. Your eggs are getting cold.”

  Claire picked up a piece of toast that rested on the side of her plate and took a small bite. She chewed with care, waiting on the inevitable gag reflex to kick in. When nothing happened, she swallowed and braved some eggs. It felt good to eat without being sick and hugging the toilet.

  “I’m going to check in with Victoria,” Claire muttered, pushing away from the table.

  “Do you think that’s wise? Alfred is probably watching her and Sarina closely since you disappeared.”

  “But why? As long as I stay away from Jaxon, why would he harm them?”

  “I don’t know, but something feels off about this whole thing.”

  “Maybe because it’s fucked up,” Claire snapped, picking up her dishes to deposit in the sink.

  “Come now,” Ben soothed. “Don’t get worked up. You’ll make yourself sick again, and you need to hold that food down as long as possible.”

  “I’m sorry, Ben. I have no right taking my frustrations out on you. Forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive.” He got up and wrapped her in a hug.

  Claire loved Ben. Though no one could ever replace her father, Ben sure made her feel cherished and safe. She thought back to the day they met. The constant jabs, insults and word-sparring sessions had taken her mind off her dilemma. Which was what Ben had intended all long, she thought with a smile.

  She stepped out of his embrace and trailed off to her bedroom to call Victoria. Claire needed to hear her voice and find out how Sarina was doing. Maybe Tori would have some gossip about Jaxon to share, although she doubted it. Victoria never mentioned him for obvious reasons, and Claire never asked.

  The sound of her friend’s voice choked her up. It took her a second to speak. “Hey, Tori.”

  “Thank God you called. I have been worried sick. Are you okay?”

  The frantic undertone in Victoria’s voice made Claire’s stomach clench. She hated being the cause of so much distress.

  “I’m fine, really. How’s Mom?”

  “She’s shopping with Aunt Frannie and staying busy. It’s been hard evading her questions, Claire. I won’t be able to hold her off much longer. She’s not an idiot. She knows there’s more to this than what I’ve told her.”

  Sarina had been informed that Claire had a stalker who’d threatened not only her life but her mother’s and Tori’s as well, and the two women needed to leave for a while until the police were able to catch the guy.

  “I know, and I’m sorry, but we can’t tell her, Tori. You know what a hothead she is. She would confront Alfred and get us all killed.”

  “I’m telling you that I don’t think she’s buying the story, Claire. I can see the suspicion in her eyes when she looks at me. It may come down to having no choice but to give it to her straight. She’s smarter than you give her credit for.”

  “Just a bit longer, Tori. Please?”

  A click sounded in the background only to be drowned out by Tori’s gasp.

  Claire’s breath froze in her lungs. “Victoria, are you there?”

  “Hello, Claire.” A man’s voice came over the line, confirming that Claire’s nightmare had come true.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

  “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?

  “You harm a hair on Victoria’s head and I will—”

  “You aren’t in any position to make demands, bitch. Now keep your mouth shut and do as I say. One wrong move on your part, and your precious little friend will die a slow and painful death.”

  “Claire, don’t—” The line went dead.

  The phone slipped from Claire’s numb fingers as Tori’s plea was cut short by the dial tone.

  Ben came barreling into the room, coming up short when his gaze met Claire’s. “What’s wrong?”

  “We have to go home.”

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Jaxon paced the floor of his hotel room and listened to another conversation Alfred was currently engaged in. He’d sat through dozens of his father’s business calls and worse, politics.

  He was just about to go over there and demand Alfred take him to Claire when another call came in.

  Something in Alfred’s voice stopped Jaxon cold. “Is she injured?”

  Jaxon completely stilled, piecing together as much
of the details as he could gather. He didn’t recognize the man his father spoke with, but it didn’t matter. They had Claire.

  The stranger’s next words sent Jaxon into a rage. “Not yet. Meet me at her place tomorrow at noon. And come alone or she dies.” The line went dead.

  An ear-piercing howl nearly busted the bug’s receiver. Alfred’s display of emotion surprised Jaxon.

  A knock sounded on his father’s door, but Jaxon was no longer listening. He’d heard what he needed to hear. Claire was home and in the clutches of a madman.

  Jaxon threw his things into his bag, wondering about his father’s role in Claire’s dilemma. Obviously he wasn’t the main player in the game, but he was definitely involved somehow. Jaxon intended to find out.

  After doing a quick sweep of the room, he snatched up his bag and headed off to the airport.

  * * * *

  The shades were drawn on every window of Claire’s house. Jaxon could smell her fear along with her essence. Her scent had changed slightly, altered by the child she carried. My child.

  Jaxon kept to the tree line, camouflaged by shadows, waiting on his father to show. It would be just the diversion he needed. He inhaled once again, drawing in the different scents, memorizing them. He’d never scented two of them before, and wondered for the hundredth time what they wanted with his Claire.

  Voices reached his ears, growing in volume. Jaxon closed his eyes, listening with his senses. Sounds came alive, becoming louder as he crept closer to the back of the house.

  “You touch her and I’ll kill you.” A deep voice boomed from inside the home.

  The hammer of a gun cocked. “And how will you do that with a hole in your head, big guy? Or better yet, how about I just shoot her and maim you, so you have to watch her die?”

  “Come sit down, Ben. Please.” Claire’s voice was a balm to Jaxon’s soul.

  “Yes, Ben. Sit, boy,” the madman taunted.

  A low growl sounded, and Jaxon’s eyebrows shot up. Ben is a Shifter?