by Renee Rose
21
CAITLYN
I drove straight to my apartment, barely remembering the drive. I climbed into bed and stayed there the rest of Sunday. Slept and cried, and slept some more. The place smelled like Wade, which meant it smelled like Landry, since they had the same fucking scent. So I cried some more.
It was a call from my mother the next morning that pulled me out of my funk. I grabbed my cell when it rang, my heart thinking it would be either of the guys. But I’d been the one to walk away, to tell them it was over, so I’d been stupid. I sighed, and answered, knowing she’d call back if I didn’t.
“Hi, Mom,” I said.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
I sat up, brushing my snarled hair back from my face. “No, just tired.”
“I didn’t hear from you yesterday and I was worried.”
I sighed. “I’m fine.”
I wasn’t, but the last thing I was going to tell my mother was the truth. Not that she’d believe it. I broke up with two men after having a heated and tawdry fling for the past three weeks. Oh, did I mention that they shift into wolves, and bit me to mark me? I think you could’ve had half-shifter grandchildren by either one of the guys, although I wouldn’t know which since I fuck both of them, but that’s not happening now.
“Well, Dad talked to Dale Dickman again at Oakview. He said the job is yours, but you’d have to be back by August fifteenth for teacher meetings, as school starts after Labor Day.”
I popped from bed, suddenly wide awake and full of… anger.
My parents were constantly pushing me to return to Connecticut and be a prep school science teacher. A safe job. A worthy one they could tell their friends at the country club about. Not that their daughter roamed the Wyoming wilderness tracking wolves.
Then there were Landry and Wade, who were deciding for me that my research and all the time I’d put into it had to be abandoned. Then there was Dr. Andrews, who was pushing me on the paper when he did jack-shit, just to take all the credit.
Then there was Gibson, the alpha of a wolf shifter pack, who accused me of horrible things all because of… what? Greed?
“Mom, I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey.”
“But I’m not coming back to Connecticut. I’m not. I’m not sure what’s going to happen with my research and paper, or my teaching position at Granger State for that matter, but I do not want the job at Oakview. If you like it so much, you take it. Or Dad. It hurts my feelings that you can’t see that it won’t make me happy, that it’s what you want for me.”
“Honey—”
“I’m tired of people telling me what I should be doing. Until you can accept me and my work as-is, then we need to take a little break.”
“Oh, Caity,” she said on a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
I sighed, swallowing back tears. “I am, too. I have to go to work. Here, in Wyoming. Studying wolves.”
I ended the call and strangely felt better. I’d stood up for myself with my mother. I wasn’t going to work at Oakview no matter what happened.
But I was tired of being pushed into what others wanted me to do. I couldn’t figure out Landry and Wade right now, but I could get my paper published. That was tangible. What I’d been working on. It was me. My goal, my dream.
WADE
For fuck’s sake. I woke up in my bed full of pine needles and dirt. I hardly remembered making it home last night after running until my paws bled.
Landry had been with me, I remembered that much. We’d howled at the moon until we’d gone hoarse. I didn’t know how we even found our way home.
I rolled out of the bed, cursing myself under my breath. Now I had to wash the sheets, which meant I’d wash away the scent of our mate. I stripped the bed with a snarl and padded out to the laundry room.
“Hey.” Landry was on my couch, just as filthy and naked as I was. He sat up, scrubbing a hand over his stubble and groaning.
I grunted in response, passing him and throwing the sheets in the washing machine.
“Are you okay?” Landry asked when I returned. I must have looked as shitty as I felt.
“No. Are you?”
“Fuck, no.” Landry swung his legs off the couch to sit, his face buried in his hands.
It was as if we’d drunk a bottle of whiskey and were hungover. Which didn’t ever happen with shifters since our metabolisms were too swift. We were worn out from our run. We’d been frenzied. Crazed. And we were feeling it now.
“Yeah.” I walked back toward the bedroom, stopping at the doorway. “I’m going to take a shower and eat something.” My voice sounded like rusty nails. “Then let’s figure out how we’re going to fucking fix this.”
“Okay—good. I’ll make coffee,” he offered, standing.
Fifteen minutes later, we were both showered and had devoured a couple packages of breakfast sausages. I drank two cups of coffee before my brain finally started to organize. “We agree Caitlyn couldn’t have knowingly killed any wolves, right?”
“Right,” Landry said. His eyes were clear and focused. “But the wolves that were shot had her trackers in them, which means someone else is using them as locators. It’s too big of a coincidence otherwise. Could they be hacked? Like, could anyone pick them up like a radio frequency?”
I frowned as I considered. “I didn’t get a chance to examine the technology, but I doubt it. Not unless she shared some kind of activation code or serial number.”
He frowned, took a swallow of his black coffee. “Well, let’s think. Who else has access to that information?”
“Her advisor—Dr. Andrews. But the guy didn’t strike me as a hunter.” I remembered the little annoying man when we’d met him in Caitlyn’s office at the university.
Landry nodded. “Yeah, it’s hard to imagine he would even know how to load a rifle, much less be able to aim and shoot. Although, appearances can be deceiving.”
I ran a hand over my jaw. My whiskers were in. While I’d showered, I hadn’t shaved. “What if… I’m just spit-balling here… what if Andrews or someone else on their research team sold the information? If I were a hunter and knew that a bunch of scientists could give me the exact coordinates on my game, I might consider paying for that information.”
Landry snorted. “If you were a very unsportsmanlike hunter, sure.”
I grumbled, because what was the point? We were far from vegetarians, but we were thankful for the lives of the animals we ate. We didn’t kill for sport.
“We already know anyone who hunts wolves where they’re not designated as trophy game isn’t worried about playing fair.” He looked my way, and I nodded.
“Very true. Hang on a sec.” I got up and retrieved my laptop. “I’m just curious about something.” I knew Caitlyn’s research was paid for by a grant. What I hadn’t looked into was the source of that grant funding. I called it up on a web search. “Her position is funded by the Western Wildlife Foundation—ever heard of them?”
“No.” Landry frowned, leaned closer to look at the screen.
“Me neither. Let’s pull up their annual report.” I typed away, moving the cursor around, finally finding the official record and skimming through it. Landry waited patiently. “Son of a bitch!”
He stilled. “What?”
“Guess who’s listed on the Board of Directors?” I looked from the screen to Landry. His eyes were narrowed. Jaw clenched. “I’m going to kill that bastard. Please stop me, or I swear to Fate, I’ll do it.”
Landry’s expression turned deadly and he didn’t even know who I was talking about. “Is it Bob Jenkins or Tim Hollaroy?” Or maybe he did.
I nodded. “Both of them.”
Landry’s fist came down on the table so hard, our coffee mugs overturned. I lifted my laptop out of the way of the spilled liquid as Landry cursed a long diatribe thoroughly aimed at Jenkins and Hollaroy. He hopped up and grabbed a kitchen towel, mopped up the coffee, then threw the towel over his shoulder and paced the
kitchen. “So those asshole ranchers formed a fake foundation just to get to our wolves?”
I stared at the screen, but it offered up no new information.
“Probably not just for the trackers,” I replied. “I bet they intend to influence the actual research published as well. To get wolves designated as trophy game in this part of the state. Fuck, you’d think they’d have better things to do with their money than go after wolves. Do the animals really take down that many of their cattle?”
“It seems like it goes deeper than that, doesn’t it?” Landry mused. “Almost like it’s personal.”
I made a mental note to follow up on that thought later because I had a feeling there was a lot to this. Right now, we had more pressing matters. Like our mate.
“Well, we have our answer now. It wasn’t Caitlyn. She was only a pawn. We can show Gib.”
“We need to prove Caitlyn didn’t know about this connection,” Landry said.
I shook my head and glared. “Fuck that. We both know she didn’t. I mean, we believe in our mate, don’t we? And Gib needs to trust our judgment on this.”
Landry nodded, looking energized for the first time since we woke up. “So, let’s go get her.”
I held up my hand. “Hang on. As much as I want her back, she’s not ours to go and collect.” I hated saying those words, and they tasted like acid on my tongue.
“Right. Fuck.” Landry sank back into his chair.
“We owe her a major apology, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she made us grovel. The wound we made was deep, and I’m not talking about our marks. It won’t heal just because we’ve cleared her guilt from our own minds.”
Landry cursed again. “What should we do?”
I was way out of my depth. Relationships with females was not my specialty, and obviously not Landry’s. We needed advice. I stalked to the door, grabbed my keys off the hook beside it. “Let’s go talk to Shelby.”
22
CAITLYN
Even though I told Andrews I’d be in, I hadn’t gone into the office on Monday—fortunately, the class I taught didn’t meet at the beginning of the week—choosing to work on my paper from home so I wasn’t disturbed. I had my laptop and the latest draft. The focused time had worked because I’d made a big dent. In fact, the paper was pretty much finished. Maybe it was my motivation that had pushed me through. Maybe it was the fact that the more I worked, the less I thought of Landry and Wade. But as I’d typed and tweaked the draft, I thought of nothing but them. How my work impacted their lives. How it could expose them. My goal was to protect the wolves, but I hadn’t understood the why of it fully until they showed me. These weren’t just numbered animals. They weren’t just silly names like White Paw.
I was going to make an impact on the current ecosystem of the Rocky Mountains. I just had to ensure the effect I had was truly my goal all along, regardless of Dr. Andrews or Gibson West.
I got a text from Landry that afternoon. When I saw his name, my heart leapt into my throat. I put the phone away several times before I gave in and read what he sent.
Caitlyn, we know you had nothing to do with the wolf getting shot. Please let us apologize for everything in person. Call or text one of us to let us know it’s okay to come and see you.
Hot tears rolled down my face. I was glad they at least believed I was innocent, but it was too little, too late. I definitely didn’t want to see them. Okay, I did. Desperately. But I wasn’t ready to talk. I turned my phone off and didn’t reply. Instead, I put my nose in my laptop and got back to work.
Tuesday, I showered and put on fresh clothes—clothes that weren’t sweats and didn’t have food stains on them. I still felt as if someone had cracked open my chest and ripped out my heart with a spoon, but I had to teach my class. I went into the science building early, hoping to avoid Dr. Andrews for as long as possible. I knew he was angry about my decision to stop tagging, and he constantly threatened my funding, holding it over my head like a black cloud. A guillotine that would chop off my funding and my ability to study wolves further—at least at Granger State.
I’d told off my mom the day before, but I couldn’t do the same for my boss, and I wasn’t in the mood for another round of threats or a lecture.
As I approached his office, voices carried down the hallway.
“...shooting fish in a barrel.”
“I’m glad I made it easy for you.”
“Worth every penny.”
I stood in the corridor and listened. It was Dr. Andrews and another man.
“Except she’s not tagging any more.”
My ears perked up like a wolf’s, instantly knowing my boss was talking about me.
“Get her back on it. Using those trackers makes it much easier to finish those fuckers.”
Did he mean—
“I don’t think I can. She’s got enough to publish.”
I tiptoed closer to the open door, knowing if they came out of the office, I’d be found. There was no place to hide in the long corridor. Except, I had to know who Dr. Andrews was speaking with. Two students came down the hall from the other direction, talking and not paying me any attention. When they walked past, I followed behind them, going down the hall to the first open door. The break room. There, I waited. It didn’t take long. The man who’d been with Dr. Andrews walked by, not even noticing me.
I noticed him. That was for sure. I recognized him from the diner in West Springs. He was one of the ranchers whom Wade wanted to avoid. Wade had even called him the leader of the gang. Tom… Tim… Tim Hollaroy. He and his friends were the guys Wade thought had murdered his mother. Based on what I’d overheard, perhaps other wolves too.
This guy was shooting the animals with trackers? There had been three so far, including White Paw. He was getting their locations from my tracking software from Dr. Andrews? For money?
Oh God. Andrews was selling the location of the wolves to the ranchers so they could find them easily and kill them.
Shooting fish in a barrel. More like a wolf with a tracker.
And it was because of me. If I hadn’t tagged them, they’d be alive. Dizzy, I dropped into a chair and drew deep breaths.
Knowing I’d been a part of this evil arrangement made me sick! I stared at nothing, and tried to figure out what I was going to do.
This wasn’t about Wade or Landry. Or the Two Marks pack. I touched the spot on my breast where Wade had marked me.
As if my thoughts conjured it, a text message came through on my phone. This time, it was from Wade.
Caitlyn, we are so fucking sorry. We should have trusted you and your research. We DO trust you and your research. We will have your back with Gibson and anyone else who questions your loyalty to wolves. Please let us make it up to you. You’re our mate. We can’t live without you. Can we just meet in person to talk?
I closed my eyes against the heat and moisture there. Scratch that, it was about Wade and Landry. I loved them. I might still be angry, but they were my mates. I was loyal to their pack, whether their pack accepted me or not. I wouldn’t let the ranchers kill any more animals. Or another shifter.
I just had to figure out how to put a stop to it.
Once I figured out my plan, I grabbed my computer from my office, lugging it down to my car, returning for every other document I had, leaving my office empty. I carried it all into my apartment and got to work, wrapping up well after midnight. Then, I barely slept. I tossed and turned and thought of Landry and Wade. Of what they were doing. How they felt. About me. About us. There was no us, thanks to me. I’d ended it. Because they thought I had something to do with the wolf murders. Because they didn’t trust me. Because they’d manipulated me in an attempt to block my research.
Except their texts said otherwise.
But after taking two days—two miserable days—I could see their perspective, why they’d been so upset. I didn’t blame Gibson for being so angry. A wolf had been shot. He was protecting his pack, and all wolves. While I hadn’t
pulled the trigger, I had been responsible. No matter how well intentioned I was, I’d let my boss use my data for his own personal gain. He didn’t care about the wolves. Neither did the ranchers. They wanted them dead.
I did. I cared about every animal in my study. My updated paper showed it. But it would mean nothing if I didn’t get it past Dr. Andrews, and to the dean. I had to also catch the fucker in his illegal and unethical actions. Until I did that, it was his word against mine. At this point, I didn’t care about my job. I cared about making things right.
I had to protect the members of the Two Marks pack, even if I was nothing to them now.
And so, on Wednesday morning, I finally stopped tweaking my final product and took action.
In an email to the dean, I attached my paper, bypassing Dr. Andrews. It was done. My plan was in motion. She had it in her inbox before I walked into the science building. This time, instead of being stealthy, I walked right up to Dr. Andrews’s door, and knocked. I didn’t wait for him to invite me in, just pushed it open.
“Morning,” I said.
He looked away from his computer monitor. “Caitlyn.”
I dropped into the guest chair with my usual slump. I was crazy nervous, but I wasn’t going to let it show. “Wanted to stop in before my class.”
“Oh?” He finally looked my way.
“I headed out of West Springs on Sunday, but stopped at a diner to grab a coffee. Ran into a friend of yours. Tim Hollaroy.”
A flush crept up his neck, but he didn’t say anything. Yeah, I was right about them knowing each other. Okay, my bluff was working. So far.
“Anyway, I guess that’s where the ranchers hang. Their meeting spot. He approached me with a very tempting offer.”
His eyes narrowed and he swiveled in his chair so I had his full attention. Yeah, he was interested in this. If he took a second, he’d wonder how Hollaroy would know who I was, but I pushed on.
“Said he’d pay me to put trackers in wolves.”
