by Liza Street
Marcus’s expression closed off.
“I’m not asking you to tell me,” Lena rushed to say. Marcus was hypersensitive to any kind of discussion about why he’d been sent to the Junkyard. The one time Lena had openly asked him for details on why he was here, he’d carefully set down his plate, as if he was just barely keeping himself from throwing it. Then he’d walked away, not a word spoken.
It made sense—it was probably a sore topic for a lot of them. Lena hadn’t fully explained why she was here, either.
“It doesn’t help us to dwell on the past,” Lena said, hoping Marcus wouldn’t walk away.
“Exactly.” His gray eyes flashed, giving her a glimpse of his wolf nature. Fierce. Protective. “Let’s get back to our practice.”
He’d agreed to spar with her. She knew the basics from watching members of her pride fight under Shaw’s direction, and she’d sparred with other members of her pride, but she’d never actually gone up against someone in a fight that truly mattered. Not until last night when she’d jumped in to protect Kyle. When Marcus had found out, he’d set down his bagel and said he’d practice fighting with her, if she wanted.
After last night’s clusterfuck, yes, she wanted. The ring had gotten violent, and fast. She didn’t know what she’d expected, that everyone would stick to a set of rigid rules? That these misbehaving shifters would somehow fight with honor and decorum in a dirt circle ringed with trash?
If she’d learned nothing from Sarah’s death and her short time here, she should know to never assume good in people.
Marcus pulled out of his fighting stance. “There it is again. You’re too much in your head, Lena.”
“Then hit me.” She grinned. “Or try to.”
He laughed. “That’s it, show me you aren’t all talk.”
He lunged forward and Lena dodged. But this time, she came back with a counterstrike and clipped him in the ear.
“Ow, fuck,” he said, shaking his head.
“Sorry, sorry. I was going for your cheek.”
Something changed in the air and Lena froze. Her body felt hot and cold at the same time. An awareness came over her. It tightened her nipples and she squeezed her legs together, trying to relieve a subtle ache between them.
“Mind if I join you?” someone asked.
Lena shook herself out of her stupor and turned around. She hadn’t heard Carter approaching, but she’d known it was him. It was as if her entire body was tuned in to his.
Marcus stepped up to stand next to her, throwing his arm over her shoulders. Lena bristled at the familiar gesture, but she had to secretly admit to herself that she liked the flash of irritation that crossed Carter’s face.
What was wrong with her? She was too old to be playing games like this.
She extricated herself from Marcus’s embrace with more gentleness than he deserved, then faced them both.
“Why are you here, Carter?” she asked.
She was half afraid he’d say something about what they’d done together last night. Even now, her insides were fluttering and heating and generally misbehaving because of his proximity. She didn’t know what was going on with her body, just that she was stupidly drawn to this guy.
“Why do you think I’m here?” he shot back.
She grinned. “To get your ass whooped.”
And with that, she attacked. Carter was taken by surprise, but that didn’t seem to make him any more vulnerable. Marcus joined in, and the three of them fought each other—no one taking any sides, just a free-for-all. Lena had never felt so exhilarated before.
After a flurry of exchanges between them all, Marcus took a step back to catch his breath. Lena faced Carter alone. She felt as if she could fight forever, that she’d never tire.
She swiped Carter’s legs out from under him. Before he had a chance to scramble to his feet, she followed him to the ground. She slung her legs over his chest and put her forearm over his neck to keep him down.
Marcus looked between her and Carter. His gray eyes widened slightly, then he took a step back. “I’m gonna go.”
“What?” Lena looked up from where her elbow smooshed into Carter’s throat. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll go check on Kyle.” He strode off, leaving Lena alone with Carter.
She looked down at Carter. Despite Lena having the upper hand, he was grinning.
“What?” she said.
“Nothing. Now we’re alone.”
The way he spoke the words, rough and low, flipped a switch inside of her. She was no longer interested in fighting. Now she wanted to touch him in entirely different ways.
“Stop trying to get out of your ass-kicking,” she said.
“Fine.” He twisted and, faster than she could track, flipped the two of them over.
Now she lay on her back, pinned beneath him.
“Gotcha,” he said.
She lifted up with her hips, trying to gain some leverage, but he threw his leg across her lower stomach, holding her in place. Before she could get her arm back far enough to swing at him, he grabbed each of her wrists and held her arms over her head.
This was hot. She tamped down her arousal, though. She couldn’t let him know what he did to her, or he’d try something again, like he’d done last night.
The thought of last night had the same effect it had been having on her all morning, though, and desire and pleasure pooled within her again.
Carter stared down at her. His dark blue eyes were both assessing and victorious. He knew. Shit.
The woods were quiet. Marcus was far off. Kyle, too. She and Carter were alone on this soft bed of grasses and pine needles.
“Lena,” he whispered, his voice husky.
Heaven help her, she wanted this man. She didn’t understand it. Her body urged her to rub against him. Even her inner mountain lion, the traitorous hussy, was straining toward him.
Last night, in his cabin, should’ve soothed the itch. She should have been able to get it out of her system. Him, too. What was he doing here, still acting like he wanted her? He lay half on top of her, and if the generous length of his dick was any indication, he was still hard for her.
She knew if she said the word, he’d be off of her in a second. The words were on the tip of her tongue.
“What do you want?” he asked.
She felt the rumble of his words through her entire body. It lit sparks in her cells, making her come alive. He smelled like rosewood, strong and woody. She wanted to run her hands over his face, inhale his musk, become a beast with him.
“Lena?” he said, and started to pull away.
She lifted her head and put her mouth to his. It was the only thing to do. Fighting meant nothing, arguing meant nothing. All she knew, and all she wanted to know, was the feeling of his skin on hers, rubbing her into a frenzy of pleasure.
He groaned and settled over her, kissing her in earnest. His tongue met hers and he pressed his way into her mouth. She tasted his ardor, felt the thickness of his cock pressing into her leg. If only they were naked, they could be joined as one right now, rocking back and forth until they reached heights only vaguely promised with his kisses.
Tugging her hands out of his grasp, she held onto his shoulders, keeping him in place.
He murmured her name and pressed harder against her, letting her feel just how hard he was. She fisted his t-shirt and started dragging it up. She’d loved watching his muscles flex last night when they’d stroked each other.
Again. She wanted to do it all again. This time with more skin.
“If you give me two minutes, I might be able to get us some condoms,” he said.
She blinked up at him. “What?”
“That’s part of the reason I came over this way. My friend lives in that cabin over there with his mate.”
Lena looked to where he gestured with his chin. She’d seen the cabin, of course; it faced the trailer so it was impossible not to. But she hadn’t said hello to either of the people who lived
there—every time she’d seen them, she’d made sure to turn away.
She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised that he’d come over here to get condoms, or if she was more surprised that he had a friend.
Then it hit her. “Wait a second…after last night, when I told you it wouldn’t happen again, you came over this way to get condoms?”
He gave her a smug look. “Well, obviously I wasn’t that crazy, because look at us now.”
“For fuck’s sake.” She sat up suddenly, dislodging him.
“What?” he asked, sitting back.
Her thoughts were all jumbled. “Of all the presumptuous…I just can’t deal with you right now.”
“Why not?” he asked. “You have something better to do today, kitty cat?”
She glared at him, sending as much hatred into him as possible.
He laughed. The fucker laughed. “C’mere, Lena.”
“No.” She folded her arms over her chest.
“You look like a pouting three-year-old,” he said. “You act like that, I just might spank you.”
She couldn’t believe this guy. “Go away, Carter.”
He looked like he was going to argue with her, but miracle of miracles, he actually nodded. “Yeah, okay. You know what they say about absence and the heart.”
“Yep. It gives me more time to figure out how to kick your ass.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“Fuck you.”
Leaning toward her, he whispered, “Like I said before, kitty cat. Anytime.”
His lips brushed against her ear in the ghost of a kiss, and she shivered.
Grinning like a smug bastard, he walked toward the gravel line and shouted toward the cabin, “Yo, Grant!”
Lena’s face was flaming. She jumped to her feet and hurried away.
10
Grant didn’t have any condoms. “Sorry, man. Caitlyn’s going into town. I can ask her to buy some at the store.”
“No worries. Might not need them, anyway.” Naturally, Carter hoped he’d get to use them. Lena was hot, and the sounds she made when she was turned on could nearly make Carter come in his jeans.
“You got eyes on the new girl?” Grant asked.
Carter shrugged.
Grant grinned, his green eyes twinkling. “She got eyes back on you?”
“Maybe?”
“Where’s she from, anyway?” Grant asked.
“The Arrow Valley Pride.”
Grant’s eyebrows shot up. “Whoa.”
“What does that ‘whoa’ mean?” Carter hadn’t heard of them.
“Not sure, exactly,” Grant said, looking uncomfortable. “You just hear shit, you know?”
No, Carter didn’t know. He waited.
Grant rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I heard the alpha’s brutal, that’s all. I’d be careful around her, just in case she’s taken on any of his characteristics. You know why she’s in the Junkyard?”
“I know what they said about her,” Carter said. “But who knows if it’s even true? Shit, Grant, you should know better than anyone not to judge the people in here.”
Looking sheepish, Grant said, “You’re right. You’re right. Just be careful, okay?”
“Yep. Thanks.” Carter took off, annoyed.
There was one more reason he’d come over to Lena’s area of the Junkyard, and it had absolutely nothing to do with Lena and everything to do with his brother’s death.
Following the scent trail of the bear, Kyle, Carter found himself near the pond to the west of the camp trailer. The bear was nowhere in sight, but Carter wasn’t deterred. The guy’s scent was strong, so he had to be around here somewhere…
There. Lying in the shade of a rock. Carter rushed over. “Hey. Hey!”
Kyle sat up. His eyes were shadowed, bruised like he wasn’t getting any sleep. Carter hoped it was his guilty conscience keeping him awake at night, because fuck if the guy should feel free and clear about anything.
“Here to attack me again?” Kyle asked, his voice sounding as if it didn’t matter to him one way or the other.
“Why the fuck shouldn’t I?” Carter demanded.
Kyle shrugged. “Whatever.”
“Stand up and talk to me, asshole.”
Carter watched while Kyle struggled to his feet. He didn’t look good, at all. Like Carter wouldn’t need to expend much effort to exact his revenge. In fact, Carter could probably just wait a few days and nature would run its course. Was this guy even eating?
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Carter asked.
“What do you think? Have you looked around? Walked the boundary? We’re stuck in a junkyard.”
This wasn’t how he’d wanted the conversation to go, but now it was, so he’d follow it for a minute. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“Not if all you want to do is fight all the time.” Kyle shook his head. “That’s not me. I shouldn’t be in the Junkyard.”
“Maybe if you weren’t a murderer, you wouldn’t be in here,” Carter said, unable to keep the growl from his voice.
Kyle froze. “What?”
“You heard me, asshole.”
Kyle still didn’t move, although he seemed to sway on his feet. Like any shifter, the guy was built solidly with the kind of muscles that benefited physically active men. But something about Kyle was off.
Kyle’s weakness only seemed to enrage Carter further. Who the fuck did he think he was, making himself out to be a victim? Was he trying to manipulate Carter into leaving him alone? Because there was no question—Kyle had killed Garth. Kyle’s voice had been the one on the phone, telling Carter where to find the body.
Carter could remember going to the scene. His brother’s mangled form had lain on the ground, propped gruesomely against a fallen tree.
“You killed Garth Varrone,” Carter said quietly. “He was my brother.”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Kyle said.
It was a lie. Kyle knew it, and Carter knew it. Anyone who was a shifter would know it, from the off-taste of Kyle’s scent, to the slight speeding of his heart rate as he spoke.
“You know, you could just admit it and I could kick your ass and you could say sorry,” Carter said. He really didn’t want to kill anyone. Well, he wanted to, but he wasn’t going to.
“Really? If I said sorry for killing your brother, you’d let me go with a black eye?” Kyle shook his head. “What if I wasn’t sorry? What if I was glad I’d killed him?”
Garth’s face flashed before Carter’s eyes. He remembered him laughing, clapping Carter on the shoulder and joking about something. Probably liquor and brawling. Everything had been a dominance game to Garth. Fight to wind up on top. And if you didn’t wind up on top, fight again until you did.
But never with ill intentions. Never with evil in his heart. There had been something pure in Garth’s fighting. Yeah, he’d knock you out cold, but he wasn’t doing it to hurt anyone. And after, he’d buy you a drink.
“You killed him and you’re glad?” Carter’s voice was a whisper.
Kyle held up his hands. “I just mean, if I did.”
“But you did. I know you did. Tell me you’re not glad.” Red was seeping into Carter’s vision, tingeing the world around him, narrowing his focus.
“I’m not even saying I did it,” Kyle said, hands still raised.
“I can’t fuckin’ believe you. Admit the truth.”
Kyle shook his head.
What the fuck. Carter was not going to stand by and let him do this—let him lie about Garth, tease Carter about not even fucking caring. It was his brother. His brother. And this asshole didn’t even have the decency to admit he’d done wrong, nor the decency to express any kind of regret.
With a roar, Carter jumped at him and wrapped his arms around Kyle’s waist, throwing them both to the ground. Kyle hadn’t seemed like he would defend himself, but the switch for survival must have flipped because he boxed Carter around the ears a
nd head.
Carter didn’t feel a single blow. He felt only rage, the desire to inflict as much pain on his enemy as possible. Every hit he delivered was given for Garth, for soothing the cracks in Carter’s heart. Carter hadn’t been there to back up his brother. He hadn’t been able to avenge Garth afterward, he hadn’t been there to monitor the fight, he hadn’t been there, period.
Well, now he was here.
He continued hitting Kyle until Kyle went limp beneath him. Then he kept on hitting, watching Kyle’s mouth and nose get bloodier and bloodier. Nothing would avenge Garth’s death. Nothing. But every drop of Kyle’s blood would help.
“Hey, what the fuck, man?”
Carter turned, surprised. Marcus was running toward him, horror on his face.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Marcus reached for him.
Carter allowed himself to be pulled from Kyle. Blood coated his fists and had spattered onto his clothes. Marcus tossed Carter to the side and he fell to the grassy edge of the pond.
Marcus knelt next to Kyle and touched his neck. “He’s still alive,” he muttered.
Well, yeah. Carter wasn’t going to kill the guy. Probably. Even if he deserved it.
“Help me get him back to the trailer,” Marcus said, bending to hoist one of Kyle’s arms over his shoulder.
Normally Carter would do it. Even for someone he hated. The man was passed out cold, dripping blood everywhere. It was in Carter’s nature to help.
But as he looked at what he’d done to Kyle, he felt nothing but self-disgust and self-loathing. He’d done that. With his hands. Made Kyle’s face look like raw, bloody meat. And what was worse—he couldn’t trust himself not to do it again, if given the chance.
“Really?” Marcus said, the word full of disbelief.
Carter backed away. “Really.”
Marcus struggled with Kyle’s limp form, hobbling away under his friend’s weight.
Carter looked at the spot in the grass where he’d pummeled Kyle. Blood stood out starkly against the green stems. His hands were getting sticky from the blood coating his fingers. He plunged them into the pond. The cool water soothed his bruised knuckles.
Nothing could soothe the anger simmering in his veins.
