by Lynn Hagen
“It’s not that.” Payton looked around at the crowded streets. People were out in droves getting their last-minute shopping done. “I feel exposed.”
The cops were looking for Chris, but they’d yet to find and arrest him. For all Payton knew, the guy was watching them somewhere in the crowd of people.
“I think he just panicked when he saw you looking out the window.” Miller gave Payton’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Why would he want to kill you? The cops already know who he is, so it’s not like he’s trying to hush you.”
“Because I ratted him out,” Payton argued. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working. I saw him, can testify against him, and he knows it. If he gets rid of me, all the cops have is circumstantial evidence. They didn’t even find the weapon, so it’s just my word against his.”
Payton had seen enough cop shows to at least know the basics. Rats got shanked. If Payton were to die, who else could place Chris at the scene? Sherman? His cousin had left town, so that would be a loose end Chris would need to tie up.
Great, now Payton was even more worried than before. He needed to call his cousin when he got back to Miller’s house just to make sure Sherman had made it to his parents’. Fever’s Edge wasn’t that far a drive, but anything could happen between the two towns.
“I was trying to set your mind at ease, and I’m sorry it didn’t work.” Miller steered Payton toward an antique store. “You’d be amazed at the gems you can find in a place like this.”
Begrudgingly, Payton had to admit that getting out of the house had lifted his mood. The smell of fresh, crisp air, interacting with others, and just taking a walk helped him feel more grounded.
But he was still worried as hell. He didn’t want to be shot again, get hit by a speeding car, get stabbed as the killer hurried past him, or have a piano dropped on his head from somewhere above.
Miller stopped before they entered the store and cupped Payton’s face. “I got something that will help take your mind off of things.”
“What?”
Miller leaned down and captured Payton’s lips in a blazing kiss. It bordered on illegal the way he pulled Payton to him and tried to suck his tongue right out of his mouth. After a few seconds of hesitation, Payton relaxed into Miller, moaning into the guy’s mouth.
“What were we talking about?” Miller asked when he pulled away, resting his forehead against Payton’s and gifting him with a beautiful smile.
“Sex.” Payton’s brain had turned to mush. All he could think about was getting home and stripping naked.
“You said home,” Miller teased. “I knew my charms were working.”
“I did?” Home? Where had that thought come from?
Miller bounced his brows. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”
Payton shoved at him. “You’re so full of yourself.”
The problem was Miller wasn’t too far off from the truth. Payton was falling for the guy, hard.
“Call me your mate.” Miller skimmed his lips over the shell of Payton’s ear. “I want to hear you say it.”
“It’s cold out here.” Payton hurried around Miller and opened the door, afraid of what was going on inside him. It was best to play dumb and be evasive until he could figure things out.
Life was already moving way too fast, and Payton wanted it to slow down just a little.
“Fine, play coy.” Miller swatted Payton’s ass as he passed him and headed down an aisle.
With a shake of his head, Payton pulled out his phone and called Sherman. His first attempt sent him straight to voice mail, so Payton tried again.
Finally Sherman answered on the fifth ring. “Hello?”
“Have you made it to your mom and dad’s yet?” Payton walked slowly, looking over the junk and wondered how Miller thought any of the things on display were a treasure. Half the stuff looked as though it belonged in either another century or a trash dump.
Then again, he wasn’t that into old things, but maybe someone out there in the universe would think anything in the store was a gem waiting to be discovered.
The store even smelled like mothballs.
“Sherman?”
“I-I didn’t quite make it out of town,” Sherman said.
“Why not?” Payton asked. “Please don’t tell me you stopped to talk to George. Sherman, you need to stay away from him. George isn’t good for you. Do you hear me?”
Why did his cousin always pick the losers to date? Before George, it had been Cornell. Now that piece of shit had been trouble from the time he’d exited his mother’s womb. Sherman kept telling Payton that he didn’t speak to Cornell anymore, but Payton knew his cousin, and he was willing to bet his inheritance that Sherman still talked to both men.
“Sherman?” Why had his cousin gone silent? Usually he would be arguing with him.
“Hmm. Sherman’s a little busy right now.”
Payton’s heart stopped. “Who is this?”
“I think you know, Payton. I caught your cousin trying to skip town, and I can’t have that. You two are the only witnesses to what I did, and since my lawyers think I can’t win this if you two testify, well… You see the dilemma I’m in.”
Payton raced across the store and grabbed Miller’s arm, pulling him away from a table filled with tarnished…whatever those things were. He put his phone on speaker.
“Let Sherman go.”
“I will,” Chris said. It could be only Chris Alton, though Payton had never heard the man’s voice before. Who else would be holding Sherman hostage? “I’ll let him go as soon as you show up to rescue him.”
Payton snorted. “Dude, that’s called a trap. Do you think my head zips up in the back?”
“I don’t know what that means.” Chris was no longer sounding smarmy with a calm, smooth voice. He sounded downright confused.
“It means my brain doesn’t leak out of my skull. I’m not a moron.” Payton didn’t argue when Miller pulled him away from the front counter. His mate was right. The storeowner didn’t need to hear this.
Miller pulled out his cell phone and dialed, talking quietly as Payton waited to see what else Chris would say.
Sherman was the only person in the world who clicked with Payton, who truly understood him, and he would be devastated if anything happened to his cousin.
Miller had told him that Chris was rich, spoiled, and only thought of himself. It was hard negotiating with people like that. Chris wouldn’t care if Payton begged or bargained. He wouldn’t care that Sherman already had a hard enough life and didn’t need a death threat hanging over his head.
If he flat-out refused to meet Chris, Sherman was a dead man, so Payton had to give in, even though he didn’t plan on handing himself over. “Okay, where do you want to meet?”
“You don’t sound sincere enough.”
“He’s a total jackass!” Sherman shouted from the background.
“What the hell?” Payton asked incredulously. “Do you want me to be crying and sniveling? I want my fucking cousin back! Is that good enough for your sorry ass? Give Sherman back to me, unharmed, or I’ll rip your fucking balls out through your mouth.”
The new leaf Payton was trying to turn over could wait. He needed his old self in order to deal with the panic that was seizing him.
“We’re in some sort of empty building—” Sherman’s shouted words were suddenly muffled. Payton heard his cousin mumbling, but his words were incoherent.
“Watch your goddamn tone with me,” Chris snarled. He wasn’t sure if the guy was talking to him or Sherman. “I’ll call you back with a time and location.”
“No, wait!” But Chris hung up. Payton turned to Miller. “We have to save Sherman.”
Miller ended his call. “I have a few guys on standby. When Chris calls back to tell you where to meet him, we’ll be ready.”
In the meantime, what was Chris doing to Sherman? Was he torturing him? Sherman was a complete wuss and wouldn’t be able to handle five seconds of
having his fingernails pulled out.
“Hey.” Miller tucked his phone away and cupped Payton’s face. “We’ll get Sherman back and hand Chris over to the sheriff.”
If only Payton could believe that.
* * * *
“I want every goddamn empty building in this town searched,” Miller said to the sheriff, who was on the other end of the call. “You and I both know what Chris will do to Sherman, and Payton if he gets his hands on him. I’m not letting my mate go anywhere near him.”
They had left the antique store and were heading straight for his truck. In truth, Miller had pulled Payton into the antique store because he’d felt someone watching them. He hadn’t said anything because he hadn’t wanted to panic his mate. Payton was already dealing with enough stress.
If Chris was with Sherman, then who the hell had eyes on them? Chris was rich enough to pay someone to do his dirty work, and Miller was surprised the guy was with his kidnapped victim. Spoiled and narcissist men like Chris usually kept their hands clean and threw their money at others to do their bidding.
“I have my men looking for him,” Grayson said. “I even have volunteers helping me. But now I have more to go on, so I’ll redirect their searches.”
Miller knew the type of volunteers Grayson had recruited. They would be nonhuman. Shifters were better able to track, to sniff out where someone was hiding, and they were better equipped to take a gunman down.
Just as Miller opened the passenger door to tuck his mate inside, the window shattered. Miller ducked, dragging Payton down to the snowy ground with him.
“Was that gunfire?” Grayson demanded.
“Someone is trying to finish what Chris started. I’m outside the antique store.”
“All my men are out searching and it’ll take them too long to get to you,” Grayson said. “I’m on my way.”
Miller hung up and tucked his phone into his pocket. He turned to Payton while staying hunkered down. “Are you okay?”
Payton was clutching the front bumper, his eyes wide, and his skin was paler than normal. “Hell no I’m not okay. I’m sick and tired of people shooting at me. This is the third goddamn time. Did a target form on my forehead over the past month?”
His mate rubbed at his forehead as Miller turned back around and lifted slightly trying to see out the back window of his truck. People had scattered, and some had screamed as they dove into the nearest store.
The street was now deserted, but Miller couldn’t see where the shooter was.
His gaze swung to Bistro when a portly man with a white beard and rosy cheeks exited, a cup in his hand, oblivious to what was taking place.
“Run, Nick!” Payton shouted from behind Miller.
Nick looked up and scanned the street, his white, bushy brows dipped. No, Miller wasn’t going there. That wasn’t Santa. Miller had stopped believing in the guy when he was a kid.
“Friend of yours?”
“No,” Payton said as he moved closer to Miller. “We met at Bistro, and Sherman swears he’s Santa.”
“I can see why.”
“Right!” Payton gave a weak smile. “I’m fighting not to give in and call him that. Do you see the guy who is shooting at us?”
“No.” Miller leaned up and looked again.
People were starting to come out of the store, looking around as two patrol cars sped to the intersection and then stopped. The officers stepped out of their cars with their guns drawn. Miller guessed the deputies weren’t as far away as the sheriff thought. They’d shown up pretty damn fast, and Miller was grateful for that.
Sheriff Copache, who had come running down the street from the police station, finally made it to them and helped Miller and Payton get inside the antique store.
“Did you see who was doing it?” Grayson asked.
“No.” Miller looked out the front window, making sure Payton was hidden so the guy couldn’t get a shot at him. “I think he took off when the townspeople scattered.”
“My men are doing a sweep,” Grayson said. “Until they’re done, we sit tight.”
Miller wanted to go out there and track the guy down, but even with the sheriff there, he didn’t want to leave Payton alone. So he let the deputies do their job as he curled his arm around Payton and pulled his mate close.
There was no way Miller was going to let anything happen to Payton. Even if he had to search every fucking resident and business in town himself, he would find Chris, and when he did, Miller would end the deranged bastard.
Chapter Nine
“Are you sure this is the building?” Pyke asked as they drove over the weed-choked parking lot. Their tires crunched over the packed snow as the wind blew slightly, sending the snow from the roof and tree branches flying.
Miller gazed at the dilapidated building through the windshield of his truck. Most of the windows were broken, the metal on the building was rusted, and there were pieces and parts of machinery lying around, frozen reminders that this place had once been a thriving business.
Miller wasn’t sure if they were in the right place, but this was the address Chris had given Payton. “It has to be.”
After putting the truck in Park, Miller got out. He had a bad feeling about this. Something was off. Chris had to have known that Payton wouldn’t come alone, and what was stopping Payton from giving the address to the cops?
“You got that same uneasy feeling that I do?” Pyke asked as he got out. “Are the others already here?”
Miller looked toward the surrounding woods. Cyril Anson and John “Moose” Zitelli had volunteered to help, along with Deputy Malik Burrows and Deputy Darren Christopher. “They should be. They left before we did.”
Although he hadn’t liked leaving his mate behind, Miller had made sure he wasn’t alone. Not only had Grayson shown up to keep an eye on Payton but Nester, Pyke’s mate, was keeping Payton company, too.
Miller zipped up his coat. The wind was whipping, and the snow was falling, making him wish this had happened in the summer instead of winter. It blustered past him, instantly freezing his cheeks, nose, and the tips of his ears.
“Is he supposed to meet us outside?” Pyke looked around while shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “It’s eerily quiet.”
Except for the wind and the creaking branches. Miller had never been the kind of person who became spooked, but he was getting dangerously close to backing away.
He wasn’t even sure why he was edgy. He had a black panther, a bear, a lion, and a coyote shifter in the woods watching his back. Miller’s jaguar snarled as he started forward, but he stopped when he heard something “clank” in the bed of his truck.
Brows furrowed, Miller flipped back the tarp and cursed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Payton sat up, grabbing his arms as he shivered. He wasn’t even wearing a coat. “This is probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, but I had to make sure Sherman was okay.”
Miller was beyond livid. “You just put yourself in harm’s way, Payton. The whole reason I left you behind was so you wouldn’t be anywhere near Chris, and how in the fuck did you get out of the house and into my truck without anyone being the wiser?”
When Payton started shivering uncontrollably, Miller lifted his mate out and tucked him into the passenger seat. He reached across and started his truck, blasting the heat.
“Abort?” Pyke asked.
“If we do, Sherman is as good as dead,” Miller said. “No, we have to go inside.”
The coyote padded toward the truck then sat on his haunches. Deputy Darren Christopher was telling Miller that he would watch over Payton.
“Thanks.” Miller smiled down at him. “I owe you one.” He turned to his mate. “When we get home, you’re going over my knee.”
Payton closed the truck door, as if he couldn’t hear Miller, but Miller saw the stark fear in his mate’s jade-green eyes. Not because of Miller’s threat but because the place was downright creepy.
Payton cracked the d
oor open and whispered, “It’s okay if you don’t want to go in there. Pyke can handle rescuing Sherman. You can just hide in the warmth of the truck with me.”
“Sorry, I’m not ready to hand in my man card just yet.” Although the offer had him hesitating. Miller still had a feeling something wasn’t right, and he normally went with his instincts.
“And I am?” Payton tried to open the door wider, but Miller shut it while shaking his head.
“Stay put.” There was no use stalling. Miller just needed to get in there and grab Sherman. Piece of cake.
Before anyone got close enough, the building blew sky-high. Miller hit the ground so hard the air rushed out of his lungs. Debris fell everywhere, and the flames from the explosion reached toward the snowy sky.
“Sherman!” Payton had jumped out of the truck and was racing toward the blinding fire. Miller got up and tackled his mate to stop him from running inside.
“Get off me!” Payton squirmed under him as fat tears streaked down his face. “Let me go!”
“There’s no use,” Miller argued. “He’s gone, Payton. Sherman is gone.”
“No, I don’t believe you. No.” Payton curled into Miller and sobbed as Miller held his mate closely, rocking Payton while the others gathered around them. There was no way anyone inside the building had survived that blast. The entire structure was on fire.
They’d been that close to being blown up. Sheriff Copache had told him that Chris was selfish and spoiled, but he never said anything about psychotic. That was the bad feeling Miller had had. This had been a trap, and everyone last one of them had almost lost their lives.
“Is everyone okay?” Malik asked after shifting to his human form. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Sherman was!”
Payton struggled to push away from Miller, but Miller didn’t trust him. If he let Payton go, would his mate try to run into the building? One life lost was tragic, but Miller wasn’t going to let his mate run to his own death.
* * * *
After crying all night, Payton peeled himself out of bed and wandered to the bathroom. He wasn’t even in the mood to pet Bilbo when his cat slinked by him.