Jasmine must have seen the sudden panic in Casey’s eyes. She gave her hand a quick squeeze.
“So, now you’ve got to tell me,” Jasmine said with a grin. “What’s the boss man like in bed?”
Casey was just entering Brady’s building when she saw him.
It was Evan Wallace. No doubt. He stood across the street, arms folded over his chest, a stern scowl on his face. And he was watching her. He wore the same ratty clothing he had worn the night he confronted them under the streetlamp.
Casey froze, a shiver going through her when she met his gaze. Even at a distance, she could see the rage in his eyes, feel the hate radiating from him. He’d finally realized that he couldn’t have her.
So, what does that mean now? Casey wondered.
It means I’ll have to take you.
He slowly smiled as his voice whispered through her mind, his fanged teeth yellowed and sharp.
Her nerve suddenly breaking, Casey hurried inside the building. It felt like forever before she could lock the door behind her.
25
Casey
Casey felt a strange rumble in her belly. As she watched, it bloated to the size of a beach ball. She could feel her skin stretching, ripping, as something moved just beneath the surface. She pressed both hands against her stomach and felt a pulsing heartbeat. She screamed as her stomach split open and a small, clawed hand grasped at the air…
“Casey!”
She opened her eyes to find Brady sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over her, his eyes dark with concern. It took Casey a moment to realize she had been dreaming. She touched her belly through the thin cotton of the t-shirt she’d borrowed from Brady. Still flat.
“Are you okay?” he asked, brushing her hair away from her face. “What happened?”
Casey managed a smile. “Just a bad dream.”
Brady leaned forward and softly kissed her forehead, then her lips. It would have been so easy to tell him everything in that moment. All she had to say were a few words and then she’d know, one way or another, how he felt.
But she couldn’t. Not yet.
“So, what did you do today?” Brady stretched out beside her, propping his head up with his fist. He idly stroked her stomach as he smiled.
Casey returned the smile, but felt a little sick. She had to tell him about Evan. She took a deep breath. Here goes.
“I went to Jasmine’s today,” she said quietly. “And I saw him.”
His hand stopped its exploration and he went silent, eyes darkening, jaw tightening. “Did he do anything?” he managed to say.
Casey shook her head. “Just watched me.”
Brady fell back on the mattress beside Casey. It felt like forever before he spoke again.
“Why did you go out?” he finally asked. “I told you it was safer here—”
“And I’m supposed to stop living my life because some asshole has decided to stalk me?”
Brady sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, covering his face with his hands for a few moments. “Jesus Christ, Casey…” he said quietly. “He could have done anything to you…”
“But he didn’t.”
Brady quickly turned to face her. “But he could have!”
The anger in his voice sounded unnatural coming from him. She said nothing more, watching him tamp down the dragon rising inside him. He turned away from her again.
“What do you think it would have done to me,” he said in a rough whisper, “if something had happened to you today?”
Casey didn’t know what to say. She crawled to her knees and knelt behind Brady, wrapping her arms around him as she rested her cheek against his shoulder. He curled his hands around her forearms, leaning his head back against her. Neither of them spoke for a while.
“You are the most precious thing in the world to me,” he finally said quietly. He turned slightly until he was facing her. “You know that, don’t you?”
Casey slowly nodded. “Yeah,” she whispered. “I do.”
His eyes searched hers so intensely that Casey felt as if he were looking inside her. She saw the worry and concern in his eyes, the vulnerability and trust.
It’s time, Casey thought. Tell him now. Tell him you love him. Tell him about the baby. Now.
“Brady…” she said softly, raising her head to look at him. And then her words failed her. She managed a faint smile instead. “Let’s go to bed. You look exhausted.”
He stood and peeled off his shirt, kicked out of his pants, and crawled back into bed wearing his boxer briefs. He really did look tired. Casey knew that he was working twice as hard at the club between running the place and keeping an eye out for Evan Wallace. It was starting to take its toll on him.
He pulled her into his arms, and they settled into the sleeping position they found themselves in every night: Brady on his back, Casey curled up against him, their arms around each other. Casey had never slept so well as she did when she was with Brady.
After a few minutes, Brady snored softly, completely knocked out. Casey raised her head and watched him for a few minutes, fascinated by the angles and planes of his face, the shadow of stubble on his chin and cheeks. She smiled and pressed a gentle kiss against his shoulder as she slowly moved away from him and stood. She quickly dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sweatpants and tiptoed into the living room.
She was too wired to sleep. She felt buzzy with energy, as if every cell in her body had woken up all at once and insisted that she do something. At 1:30 in the morning, her options were a little limited, so she compromised by grabbing a pint of ice cream and a spoon and settling down in front of the TV.
She had just reached for the remote control when her phone buzzed. The sound caught her off guard, startling her. She picked up her cell from the arm of the couch and frowned. She didn’t recognize the number.
A cold premonition trickled down her spine.
It was a text with an attachment. She hesitated a moment, then touched the screen to open it.
Get here now or she dies.
The attachment opened. It was a selfie of Evan and Jasmine. Her eyes were huge and terrified, and Casey could see she had been hit. Evan was leaning in, his tongue extended obscenely as he licked the side of Jasmine’s face. He had shifted his other hand to a bear claw, which he poised just over her throat.
Casey covered her mouth as hot, raging tears spilled from her eyes.
A series of texts buzzed, one after the other:
If you tell anyone, she dies.
If you bring that asshole boyfriend, he dies.
Come alone. Get your ass here NOW!
Casey dropped the phone as if it were white-hot. She jumped to her feet, paralyzed for a moment. She had no doubt that Evan Wallace would do exactly as he promised. He would kill Jasmine without a second thought. God only knows what he would do to Brady.
She touched her belly, flattening her hand against it. Would he hurt her if he knew she was pregnant? Could she somehow talk him down from this...make him understand what he was doing? If she had to, could she convince Evan Wallace that she was in love with him to save the life of her baby?
Did she have a choice?
Casey quickly slipped into her shoes. Before she left, she stopped at the bedroom door. Brady sprawled over the bed, barely covered by a sheet, snoring peacefully. Silent tears fell over her cheeks. She just wanted one more look at him.
I’m so sorry, she thought, pulling the door closed.
I’m sorry.
26
Brady
Brady woke instantly.
He lay on his back, a sheet twisted around his legs. The only light in the room was the glow of his charging cell phone. He reached for Casey, intending to pull her closer. He touched only a pillow.
“Case?” His voice sounded loud in the silence. He listened for sounds of her in the bathroom, moving around the living room, the kitchen. Nothing.
Uneasy, he hauled his jeans on again and opened the bedroom door. The apartment
was still. He went through room by room. No sign of her.
A pit opened up in his stomach.
“Casey!”
He ran to his bedroom and dragged on a sweatshirt, grabbing his keys and shoes as he raced through the living room. His gaze snagged on Casey’s phone, half-hidden by pillows on the couch. He turned it on, and the last few texts popped up on the screen.
His heart stopped. She’d gone right to the bastard.
He called Zack for backup, but didn’t wait for him once he got to Jasmine’s. He took the stairs two at a time, dreading what he might find. Or what he might not find.
Deep claw marks had been torn through the cheap plywood door near the knob, opening a hole just big enough for a human hand to fit through to unlock it. Jasmine’s neighbors were old and mostly hard of hearing, so none of them had called the police. Brady assumed that whatever Evan Wallace had done, it had been quick and quiet. He pushed the door inward, scanning the wreckage. As he’d done at Casey’s place, Wallace had thoroughly destroyed Jasmine’s home.
He saw a splatter of blood on the wall and felt dizzy for a second. Not Casey’s. Please...not Casey’s.
“Casey?” He kept his voice low, stepping over shards of broken table and piles of shredded cushions. “Jasmine?”
He listened for a moment. There…the faint sound of weeping.
Brady followed the sound to the bedroom. The mattress lay in chunks around the room, covered in torn clothing and ruined furniture. In the corner of the room, he saw a pile of sheets and comforters trembling.
“Casey!” He was across the room in an instant. Desperate, he pulled the covers aside.
Jasmine, curled in the fetal position, shook with tears.
“Jasmine…” Brady said softly. She slowly sat up, and he could see that her right arm was badly broken. Her expression was blank from shock. Brady gently gripped her shoulders, kneeling in front of her. “Jasmine! What happened? Where’s Casey?”
Jasmine shuddered, shaking her head as she slowly climbed out of her stupor. Brady saw recognition dawning in her eyes when she looked at him. “B-boss…”
“What happened?” Brady asked again. “What happened to Casey?”
“He took her.” Jasmine wiped at her eyes with a trembling hand. “That goddamn motherfucker took her!”
As Brady helped her to her feet, he heard Zack enter the apartment. “We’re in here!” he yelled.
“Jesus…” Zack breathed. “This is worse than the other place.”
“He was pissed off,” Jasmine said quietly. Anger and fear thrummed in her voice.
“What did he do to Casey?” Brady was having a hard time keeping his tone calm. He had no idea how long Wallace might have had her. “Did he hurt her?”
“He slapped her,” Jasmine said. “When he was human. Before he shifted.”
That was it. Without thinking, Brady slammed his fist into the wall of Jasmine’s bedroom, taking out a chunk of drywall. Rage coursed through him so fiercely he could feel it crackling like electricity deep inside. He turned to Zack, who took a half-step back.
“You okay, man?” he asked.
“No.” Brady felt the dragon inside him fighting to come out. He curled his hands into tight fists and forced himself to take a deep breath. It would do Casey no good if he lost it now.
“Did he say anything about where they were going?” Zack asked Jasmine. “Anything at all?”
“He just grabbed her and left.” Jasmine grimaced and shook her head. “I should have been able to stop him.”
“Did you shift?” Brady asked, trying not to make it sound like an accusation.
“Yeah.” Jasmine’s eyes grew fierce. “I got a few good swipes in, too, but he’s big, Brady. Really big. It was like I couldn’t even touch him.”
Zack left the room and Brady could see him sniffing at the air, searching for the scent. Wallace’s stench was singular in its awfulness. But that was good. It made him easier to track.
“I thought I could smell him outside,” Zack said. “He’s out of the apartment building.”
“Catch his scent,” Brady said as he ran from the apartment. “I’ll meet you.”
In moments, he was on the roof of the building. He leapt off the edge and caught the night breeze under his wings, transforming as he soared higher. He breathed deeply, filtering through the millions of smells until he found the one he was looking for: Casey’s.
I’m coming, he thought, focusing in on the scent. I’ll find you.
I promise.
27
Casey
Casey opened her eyes to darkness.
She was on her back, lying on something hard. The ground? How did I get on the ground? she wondered. She blinked several times, trying to adjust. The darkness receded to a flickering, orange-tinted dimness. She looked around and saw burning torches on the walls.
Where the hell am I?
She moved to sit up and a bolt of pain zig-zagged from her temple to her jaw. Oh, yeah...that’s right. He’d knocked her out. Thank God he hadn’t been in his bear form or he would have taken off her head. She felt around her. She was near a wall. Okay. Good. She slowly sat up and leaned against it. If nothing else, he wouldn’t be able to come at her from behind.
As her eyes adjusted, she saw that she was in some kind of cave. The walls were roughly hewn stone, the ceiling higher than she would have expected. Everything smelled of dampness and decay. Where had Evan found a cave in New York? Was she still in New York?
Casey closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe deeply and release it slowly. Calm down. Think.
She had gone to Jasmine’s, found the apartment ripped apart, and run inside without a second thought. Wallace, still in human form, was grappling with Jasmine, who had shifted into a panther. Jasmine got in a few good swipes with her claws, but he quickly shifted and, with a swipe of his bear paw, knocked her away like she was nothing. Jasmine hit the wall and instantly transformed into her human form, dazed and hurt.
“Jazzy!” Casey ran to her side. Jasmine opened her eyes, shaking her head.
“Get out…” she whispered. “Run.”
Wallace growled low in his throat and Casey turned to see him towering over her. He had fully shifted, and as a bear he was a monster. His black fur was matted, stinking of blood and urine and God only knew what else. The claws that flexed out of his gigantic paws were long and tapered to a razor edge.
“What do you want?” she asked through gritted teeth.
Evan Wallace’s voice wormed its way through her mind. You.
He reached out for her with one of his paws, transforming it into a human hand as he grabbed her upper arm and hauled her up to her feet again. The shift back to human happened suddenly—a blink and the bear was gone, and Wallace was back. He roughly pulled her close, until his chest was pressed against her breasts, trapping her arms against her sides.
Casey grimaced and pulled back as much as she could. “God damn it…” she muttered. She looked back to Jasmine and saw that she was going in and out of consciousness. “Jazz!”
“She’s not going to help you.” Evan smiled and leaned forward, pressing a series of soft kisses along Casey’s jawline. She groaned in disgust as he flicked the tip of his tongue into her ear. “It’s just you and me now.”
Casey struggled against him, but he was strong. Stronger than she ever would have believed. She tried to force her knee between his legs to kick at his crotch, but he blocked her. He laughed and buried his face in the hollow of her throat again.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long…” he whispered against her skin. “God...you taste so good, Casey-Case. I knew you would.”
Casey reared back and head-butted him, hitting him square in the nose in an explosion of blood. He fell back, shouting in pain, and she scrambled away from him. She made it to the door before she heard him whistle at her.
He crouched beside Jasmine, blood streaming from his nose, smiling broadly. He held Jasmine by the hair, pulling b
ack her throat. He’d reverted one hand to a bear’s claw again, and he lightly scratched a furrow down the length of Jasmine’s neck. Blood beaded and trickled down her chest.
Casey froze.
“You leave, and you know what will happen.” He traced a parallel line beside the first. More blood flowed. “Jasmine and I will have a little discussion that I don’t think she’ll enjoy…”
“No. Evan...please.” Casey heard the begging tone in her voice and hated him for it. “Please... Leave her alone.”
“Nope. Not happening.” Evan turned his head to the side and spat blood onto the floor. “You know what I want.”
“Okay, okay…” She held her hands up, palms out, and stepped back into the apartment. “Whatever you want.”
His dark eyes lit up at her words. He lowered his claws from Jasmine’s throat. In one smooth movement, he stood and studied Casey. She could see that he was aroused, and the thought made her sick to her stomach.
“Do what I want…” he said in a sing-song voice. “Casey says I can do what I want…”
He walked over to her, still smiling. Casey forced herself to keep her gaze locked on his eyes. She ground her teeth, trying to remain still.
“You have no idea what I want, Casey-Case.” His smile widened as he swung his fist, catching her in the temple and knocking her to the ground.
As she sank into blackness, she could still hear him speaking.
“You have no idea at all…”
Now, as Casey leaned against the cave wall, she gently touched her temple and worked her jaw. Not broken, at least. And no teeth had been knocked out. She looked down at herself; in the dim glow of the torches, she could see that she was still dressed. Torn and disheveled, but still dressed.
So, that was something to be thankful for.
She heard movement coming from another part of the cave. Instinctively, she laid down again, half-closing her eyes to feign unconsciousness.
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