by Lynn Hagen
It was so tender that it fell apart in his mouth. “Marry me,” Stanton teased.
Nomad chuckled, and the deep sexy sound reeled Stanton in. “Only if you start eating the vegetables I cook.”
Stanton scooped another forkful of potatoes. “Just as long as it’s not cauliflower or carrots, deal.”
“I bet you would love my carrots.”
They ate in companionable silence after that. Stanton just bet he would love Nomad’s carrots, too. But his mind had gone to the gutter, so it was best to keep his mouth closed before he said something that would put a strain between them.
Nomad didn’t want any pressures while he was here, and Stanton wasn’t going to put any on him. If things happened between them, it could come naturally, not Stanton clearing the table with one swipe of his hand and begging Nomad to fuck him.
His thoughts scattered when the lights suddenly went out. Stanton set his fork down and groaned. “The light bill was paid. What the hell?”
“It’s not the electric company,” Nomad said in a near whisper. He grabbed Stanton’s hand and pulled him from his seat. “Be as silent as possible.”
Stanton had no clue what was going on as Nomad pulled him out of the kitchen. They were in the living room when Stanton heard the back door crash open.
What the hell was going on? Stanton felt panicked as Nomad moved them through the house, heading toward Horace’s old bedroom.
Nomad lifted Stanton above him, and Stanton had to slap a hand over his mouth to trap the small scream.
“Open the crawl space door,” Nomad whispered.
Stanton scrambled to do as he was told, thankful Nomad had such a steady grip on him. He knocked the board aside and heaved himself up. Stanton had never been up here before and was glad it was dark. He didn’t want to see spider webs or worse.
He reached down and nearly fell out of the opening when he tried to pull Nomad up. The guy was a solid build, and Stanton had to pull with all his might. Once Nomad’s hands touched the frame of the ceiling, Stanton moved back as the guy pulled himself upward.
Impressive upper body strength.
Nomad replaced the piece of wood and grabbed Stanton’s hand. They crawled over the joists and to a small vented window. It was hard to see in the dark, but when Nomad looked out the small window, the moonlight showed his face.
Stanton placed a hand back over his mouth when he heard floorboards creaking downstairs and men whispering.
“He couldn’t have made it far. Dinner is still on the table.”
Were they talking about Nomad? They had to be, because no one would be after Stanton. He lived a pretty dull life, and he highly doubted his parents would’ve sent guys after him.
They were selfish as fuck and didn’t really care about him. Just as long as Stanton didn’t bother them. Mr. Copley? No, that was a ridiculous thought. These men had to be here for Nomad.
Stanton couldn’t get his heartbeat to slow down. He’d never been in this kind of situation before, and it felt too surreal. He scooted next to Nomad and looked out the tiny vent. There was a guy down below, dressed in black fatigues, and he had a rifle in his hand.
Stanton wanted to faint.
Nomad slid an arm around him and whispered into his ear. “Just keep it together and I’ll explain everything when they leave.”
All Stanton could manage to do was nod.
It felt like forever as the men down below talked and searched the house.
“I don’t see any signs that he lives here,” someone said.
But Nomad had brought a duffel bag over. Where was that? Had he hidden it, knowing this might happen?
Finally, after at least an hour, they watched as the men got into their SUV and drove off.
Stanton opened his mouth to say something, but Nomad covered it with his hand. A moment later the floorboards squeaked again.
Someone had stayed behind.
Stanton watched as Nomad slid across the crawl space and lifted the wooded panel. He dropped down so quietly that Stanton was impressed.
Nomad moved silently out of the room. Stanton wasn’t going anywhere until he knew the coast was clear, but he did look down at Horace’s old room, straining to hear.
His limbs shook, and sweat dotted his forehead. The crawl space was hot as fuck, but Stanton was also scared shitless.
Nomad reappeared so suddenly that Stanton let go of a yelp.
“Come down.” Nomad held his arms up. Stanton turned onto his stomach and dropped. Nomad caught him and eased him to his feet. “Gather some things. We have to get out of here.”
“What the hell is going on?” Stanton demanded. “Men charge into my house and we hide in the ceiling? They had guns, Nomad. Real damn guns. The kind with bullets.”
“And they’ll be back.” Nomad pulled Stanton to his bedroom. “Pack for a few days, and make it quick.”
Stanton’s head spun, but he did what Nomad demanded. He didn’t want those armed men to return and catch them there. But he was getting answers just as soon as they were a safe distance away.
Nomad left the room and came back with his duffel bag.
“I thought they couldn’t find that.”
“I had it hidden,” Nomad said. “You ready?”
“No.” Stanton grabbed his bag, and they raced from the house, jumping into Nomad’s Jeep.
* * * *
Nomad ground his teeth as he sped to the safe house he’d set up after coming back to Kendall all those months ago. Not when he’d returned from California. Since that trip he’d been scouting the town, trying to figure out who had followed him.
And he’d been right. Someone had spotted him in California. Now Nomad had to warn his brothers, something he should’ve done after taking care of the threat against Keller.
“Okay, we’re away from the house, and no one is following us,” Stanton said. “Tell me what the hell is going on.”
Nomad hadn’t said a word about his capture and torture. He’d buried that shit deep, as deep as anyone could after going through five years of hell.
He hadn’t even told his siblings what had happened to him. Nomad hadn’t wanted to think of that place anymore. He didn’t want to unbury the painful memories. But he would have to in order to keep his brothers safe.
Shit. He should’ve never come back to Kendall. That had been a dumb move on his part. Nomad should’ve stayed gone, on the lam, staying off the radar so The Company couldn’t find him. Now he’d put everyone he cared about at risk.
“I’ll explain once we get where we’re going. I don’t want to have to repeat myself.” Nomad would have his brothers on speakerphone. He only wanted to dredge up the past once and hopefully bury it again.
It took them half an hour to drive to their destination. Nomad had secured a small cabin in the woods, under a false name, and had paid cash for it.
Even the utilities were under Duncan Melbourne’s name.
Nomad pulled all the way to the back. “Stay here until I check things out.”
Stanton nodded, clutching his bag as Nomad got out and went inside. The flour he’d sprinkled by the doors and windows was untouched. The wires weren’t tripped, either. Nomad carefully took the wires down and wiped away the flour before he went outside and retrieved his duffel bag.
“Come on inside.”
Stanton got out and looked around. “Nice place you have.”
It really was. There was a single bedroom, a fully working bathroom, and running water in the kitchen. There was also electricity and a nice-sized flat-screen in the living room.
As soon as he dropped his bag on the living room floor, Nomad dialed Nash’s phone number and put the call on speaker. When his brother answered, he asked Nash to get Quinn and Keller.
“We’re all here,” Nash said. “What’s going on?”
Nomad looked to where Stanton had taken a seat on the couch, his legs tucked under him. He cleared his throat and rubbed at his brow as he told his siblings about working fo
r a private firm, his subsequent kidnapping, torture, and the experiments The Company performed. He explained how one of the doctors had been sympathetic and helped Nomad escape and how someone from The Company had just found his location at Stanton’s house.
It was as quiet as a graveyard when he was done explaining everything to them.
“I’m gonna fucking kill them for doing that to you,” Quinn snarled.
“We’ll talk when we see you,” Nash said. “For now, stay hidden. Don’t worry about us. We’ll hold things down on our end.”
Nomad was relieved his brothers didn’t hate him for bringing this kind of trouble to their door.
“And Hayward,” Nash said.
“Yeah?” There was a burning lump in Nomad’s throat.
“I’m damn glad you survived. We’re in this together. If you need anything, give me a call.”
“Thanks.” Nomad hung up before he started crying like a pussy. He hadn’t shed a tear when he was being tortured, and he wouldn’t shed one now.
When he turned to face Stanton, Nomad was nearly bowled over. Stanton hugged him so tightly that Nomad couldn’t move his arms.
“I’m so sorry they did that to you. And I’m pissed they tried to track you down. We’ll stay here as long as we need to.”
He was glad when Stanton finally let him go. “I plan on taking you to my brothers. You’ll be safer there.”
“What?” Stanton looked wide-eyed at him. “We’re in this together.”
“There is no we. This is my fight, and I’m not going to have you getting involved.”
Nomad would never forgive himself if anything happened to Stanton. He should’ve never gone to his house in the first place. But if he hadn’t, The Company would’ve found him at home and everyone would be dead.
He wanted to take Stanton to them, to keep the human safe, but the more he thought about it, the more he decided to stay as far from his family as possible.
“Fine, you can stay.” Nomad hoped he didn’t come to regret those words. Stanton was a temptation and a distraction Nomad couldn’t afford.
But what choice did he have? He didn’t want to go anywhere near his childhood home for fear The Company would follow him and massacre Nomad’s family.
If they didn’t already know about them.
Chapter Five
Something changed in Nomad after that phone call. Stanton let the guy go and took a step back, ashamed he’d invaded Nomad’s personal space.
“I’ll just go back to the couch.” Stanton walked away and took a seat, looking around for the remote. It looked as if Nomad needed some time to himself, and Stanton was more than willing to give it to him.
As he looked around, he couldn’t stop thinking about Nomad being tortured, of those doctors and scientists cutting into him like he was some kind of damn guinea pig. He felt deep indignation for Nomad and wished he could find that lab and destroy it.
“I’m gonna grab a shower,” Nomad said before he left the room.
Stanton felt horrible. He should’ve just kept quiet after the phone call. Nomad hadn’t told his story for sympathy. He’d exposed a part of his past in order to keep his brothers safe.
When Stanton heard the shower cut on, he went to the kitchen and poked around. Nomad must’ve recently stocked the cabin, because there was not only fresh food in the fridge but in the freezer, too.
Since Stanton was a horrible cook, he decided not to torment Nomad any more than he already had been. Stanton found a big bag of chips and a soda before settling back on the couch.
A half an hour later he heard the floor creaking in the bedroom. The chips hadn’t stopped his hunger pains. Stanton hadn’t finished his steak dinner before they’d been invaded.
Maybe cooking would take Nomad’s mind off of his troubles.
Stanton got up and walked to the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. He pressed his hand against his mouth when he saw Nomad in the middle of the room, completely naked.
He should go.
Stanton began to back away then grimaced when the floorboard creaked under his feet. He looked up and saw Nomad staring at him.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be a pervert. I actually wanted to know if you’d cook something since our earlier dinner was interrupted. But you know what? That can wait. I’m just gonna go back to the living room and pretend I’m not even here.”
Stanton walked back to the couch and cursed when he heard the bedroom door close. Could he have made things any more awkward? Nomad was gonna end up giving him the boot, and Stanton didn’t want to go anywhere. He liked being around Nomad. They were two lost souls just trying to find their way in the world, and they needed to stick together.
Stanton looked straight ahead when he heard Nomad coming out of the bedroom. He padded to the kitchen, and from the corner of his eye, Stanton saw Nomad pulling things from the cupboard and fridge.
He pressed his lips together to stop himself from apologizing again. Stanton just needed to remember that roommates had boundaries and not to cross them.
After grabbing the remote, Stanton settled on a movie on Netflix. Half an hour later, Nomad came into the living room and set a tray on the coffee table. He’d made grilled cheese and soup.
“Thanks.” Stanton sat up, and Nomad sat beside him. Their thighs and arms touched. A nervous, exciting shiver raced through Stanton. He couldn’t help it. His body had a mind of its own, no matter how many times he told himself that Nomad was off-limits.
They ate in silence until Nomad started sniffing the air.
“What?” Stanton looked around. He was well aware that Nomad was a panther shifter, and he could probably smell things that Stanton couldn’t. “Is it trouble?”
“You’re starting early.” Nomad got up and backed away.
Stanton was stumped. “Starting what early?”
“Pheromones.” In nothing but a pair of jeans and a shirt, no shoes on his feet, Nomad walked outside and closed the door. He recalled Horace’s birthday party and how Keller had bitten him.
Layne had warned Stanton that it would happen to him, that Stanton was destined to be a panther’s mate. How had he forgotten about that? His twenty-fifth birthday was right around the corner, and that meant Stanton could get pregnant.
He was no longer hungry. Stanton pushed the tray away from him and got up. He started to pace, worried that Nomad would come back inside and attack him the way Keller had attacked Horace.
Leaving wasn’t an option. Nomad couldn’t be seen in town. Not when men in black fatigues and carrying rifles were looking for him. Shit. What was Stanton going to do? He wasn’t going to ask Nomad to drop him off at the O’Brien house.
There was no need to borrow trouble. They were two adults who could handle this situation. Besides, Nomad had a lot on his mind. He probably wasn’t thinking about Stanton and his pheromone problem. The guy probably went for a walk to clear his head.
When Nomad didn’t return after three hours, Stanton went to bed. He curled up under the covers and thought about everything he’d learned, but what stuck out in his head was the fact that he could get knocked up.
And the only panther around him was Nomad.
* * * *
After leaving his clothes by the cabin door, Nomad shifted and took to the trees, trying his damnedest to get Stanton’s scent out of his head. He refused to be like his brothers and strike without warning.
Nomad prided himself on the ability to control his actions, but for reasons he didn’t fully understand, Stanton’s scent had nearly driven Nomad over the edge.
He also wanted to scout the area to make sure those mercenaries were nowhere in sight. They’d rattled Nomad with their sudden presence, but even more so because Stanton had been there, in the line of danger.
Those men weren’t going to just give up. They would use any means necessary to recapture him, and Nomad prayed his brothers could defend themselves.
He exhausted himself walking the area and climbing through
the trees, but Nomad hadn’t caught the scent of strangers close by. Finally, he gave up and went back to the cabin. The meal had been cleared away, the dishes done. Nomad went to his bedroom and found Stanton fast asleep.
Nomad had never thought of becoming a father. He’d been too busy just surviving. He also knew the threat of The Company would always follow him, so why put anyone through that trouble? He’d resigned himself to just being an uncle and maybe moving on to keep The Company off his family’s trail.
But staring at Stanton, thinking of how he’d looked holding James and the way he’d tried to comfort Nomad after that phone call.
Motherfuck.
Nomad turned to walk away when his canines lengthened of their own accord. He turned back around, staring wide-eyed at Stanton.
The human was his mate.
Stanton stirred and turned over. He was wearing only his boxers. Nomad left the doorway and went into the kitchen. This changed everything. He paced the kitchen, trying to figure everything out in his head.
Now the mercenaries’ presence took on a whole new meaning. Nomad needed to take them down before they got anywhere near his mate.
And Stanton’s pheromones? Nomad closed his eyes. That complicated things. Now he knew why the scent had driven him out the door when, before, Nomad had been able to resist the heavenly smell.
Because none of the others had been his mate.
Speaking of…
Stanton stumbled into the kitchen, his eyes half closed as he went for the fridge. He croaked out a single word. “Water.”
Nomad poured his mate—fuck me with that revelation—a glass of water and handed it over. Stanton sucked nearly the entire glass down, set the glass on the counter, then staggered back to the room.
The whole time Nomad had forced himself not to breathe. He hadn’t wanted to smell his mate and take a chance that he would attack. It was a deep, biological urge, one hardly any panther could control. Nomad needed a damn medal for his restraint.
