The Man Within

by Lora Leigh

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Rage washed over Taber in violent, nearly suffocating waves as he heard Roni’s frantic screams echoing through the house. Merinus had come running for him and Callan when she had first seenReginald sneaking into the mansion, terrified of his intent.

  He had been coming through the backyard when he first heard her screams. He entered the living room in time to see the bastard, fist closed, strike her temple in a blow that sent her to the floor.

  There was no question of mercy. No question of reining in the rage tearing through him. His roar echoed through the room as he threw himself at the other man, desperate to alleviate the threat to his woman.

  Reginald was faster and in better condition than Taber had anticipated. They rolled across the floor, the older man grunting as he slugged Taber in the ribs with enough force to nearly take his breath and knock him back for a second.

  But the animal he had kept carefully leashed all the years of his adult life was free now. There would be no escape, no mercy for the man who had dared to threaten all Taber held dear.

  He was aware, only absently, of the men now moving into the room. Roni was pulled to safety as Callan barked out an order to one of the others to find the doctor.

  “She’s alive, Taber,” Callan called out as Taber faced off withReginald. “Let it go. Let the men take him.”

  Taber’s throttled roar hadReginald paling as he stumbled backward.

  He rushed the older man. His fist connected with the side ofReginald’s head, blood spraying as flesh tore. He jerked him from the floor as he fell, shaking him remorselessly as the older man’s eyes bulged from his head.

  “You kill me and you know what happens,”Reginald wheezed as he managed to tear himself from Taber’s grip. “It will be all over the news, boy. Everyone will know.”

  “Ask me if I care,” Taber growled, pacing after him as he backed away.

  Reginald’s mouth worked desperately. “I didn’t hurt her.”

  “You die.”

  “Come on, man,”Reginald was pleading now. He edged back along the room, trying to evade Taber as he stalked him relentlessly. “You know I didn’t hurt her.” Taber stilled. He would have eased the thirst, the fury for vengeance, in that second if the other man hadn’t made the deciding move.Reginald pulled a small, deadly pistol from behind his back, aiming it at Taber’s chest as a smile of satisfaction washed over his face. His finger tightened on the trigger. “Die, cat.”

  Taber threw himself to the side as the weapon discharged. Simultaneously, several others went off as well. Rolling to his feet he watchedReginald’s body jerk convulsively from the bullets slamming into his body. One in his heart. One dead center between his eyes. He fell almost in slow motion, the hollow thump of his body echoing around the room.

  “Dammit, cat-boy, how many times do I have to tell you how to kill a rabid animal?” Kane snapped as he walked into the room, nudging the body carefully with his foot. “Yep, that’s how you do it. One bullet at a time.”

  Taber turned to Merinus’ brother, adrenaline still coursing through him, rage beating like a spike-edged hammer at his brain.

  “You call me cat-boy again and I’m going to shove that gun up your ass and shoot you with your own fucking bullets,” he snarled furiously as he went nose to nose with Merinus’ brother. “You don’t like what you work with, then get the fuck out, Kane.”

  Kane blinked down at him. Blue eyes, nearly the color of Roni’s, usually hard and cold, seemed to thaw marginally. His hands lifted to his shoulders.

  “Truce?” Kane suggested.

  Taber breathed in harshly, shaking his head, fighting the rage that wouldn’t seem to abate.

  “How did that bastard get in the house?” He turned to Callan then. “I thought we had Merc on him.

  What the hell happened?”

  “Somehow he caught Merc unaware. Laid him out pretty good.” Callan shook his head as he motioned to two of his men to dragReginald’s body from the room. “We caught him, Taber. It’s over.” Callan slapped him on the shoulder as he sighed wearily. “Go to your woman now. She’ll need you when she wakes up.”

  * * * * *

  Roni was already awake when Taber stepped into the bedroom. Merinus sat beside her on the bed, talking to her softly as Roni held a damp cloth to the side of her face. Her shirt was torn, her shoulder scratched, the side of her face already bruising darkly. She was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

  “Is he dead?” He had expected tears, maybe regret. But her eyes shone with a bitter hope that he was.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her as Merinus rose to her feet and went to leave the room.

  “Taber, you did what you had to do.” The other woman stopped beside him, her hand lifting to rub his shoulder consolingly. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. I’m sure there was no other choice.” There was no other acceptable conclusion, Taber thought. No man who raised a child and abused it should be allowed to live.

  He watched Roni as the door closed quietly behind Merinus, seeing the pain that she tried to hide, the fear. Had he finally crossed a line she couldn’t accept?

  “He wasn’t my father.” Her voice cracked then. “Why didn’t Momma tell me he wasn’t my father, Taber? Why did she hide it from me?”

  It was as though something had finally broken loose inside her. Taber moved quickly to the bed, pulling her into his embrace, his heart breaking for her.

  “I don’t know, baby,” he whispered painfully.

  “She loved my father.” Her fists clenched in the material of his shirt. “I know she did. She told me she did. Why was she with that bastard? Why did she let him hurt her?” He could feel the rage pulsing inside her, the pain of years of neglect and emotional abuse. He hadn’t been able to protect her from everything, no matter how hard he had tried. And even now, he couldn’t protect her from the full knowledge of the life she faced. The life their child would face. He could only hold her and pray.

  “I would give everything I am to take this hurt from you.” He moved back, staring down at her, his heart hurting for her even as his soul relished the knowledge that he held her heart. She didn’t hate him. She didn’t fear that animal that sometimes broke free. She accepted all of him. And if he could, he would give all he had to save her from this pain.

  Her eyes were dark pools of confusion, of hurt, but he could see her trust in him. Her need for him.

  “I wouldn’t,” she finally sighed. “I wouldn’t change anything, Taber. None of it, if it meant I couldn’t have all of you. The rest of it doesn’t matter, other than a footnote to the brutalityReginald was. I can live with it. I can’t live without you.”

  How could she do this thing to him? Make his chest fill with pride with such simple words? Make him feel as though he could conquer the world with only her smile to back him?

  “You will always have me,” he swore, his voice husky, the emotion filling it surprising even him. She filled every part of him. “Always, Roni. Always, you have me.”

  She touched his cheek. Almost convulsively his hand rose to hers, gripping it, bringing it to his mouth as he placed a heated, soul-giving kiss into her palm.

  “Then I’m happy,” she sighed, a tired, weary little sigh. “Hold me, Taber. Lie beside me and just hold me. Rest with me.”

  He lowered her to the bed, pulling her into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest as her head tucked beneath his chin. She settled against his body as naturally as breathing. Comforting. Warming.

  “Our child will be loved,” she whispered drowsily.

  “Always, Roni. Our child will be adored.” He knew, to the depths of his soul, that it would be no other way.

  She sighed heavily, relaxing against him as the events of the past days finally sapped her remaining strength. He heard her breathing deepen, felt her body go lax and he allowed the single tear to fall slowly from his eye. She was his gift. His soul. In her, salvation had come to the man who struggled daily with th

e animal that lurked inside him. With her, he had finally found his peace.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Aaron Lawrence sat still, frozen, his eyes glued to the television screen, the past rushing over him with the force of a tidal wave. The words filtering through his numb mind held little meaning. All he saw was her face. A face he had thought he would never glimpse.

  Veronica Andrews. Daughter ofReginald and Margaret Andrews. His soul screamed out in protest. She was nothing to the bastard who had betrayed him. She was his. His child. The last connection he had to the woman who had completed his soul. The woman who had run in horror from the crimes she believed he had committed.

  His daughter. He fought back his tears, his grief. She looked so much like her mother. The same gentle curve of her brow, the dark blue eyes, the curve of her cheek. The fear that whitened her face…

  The reporters were like a pack of animals as they molested her. Tearing at her clothes. Yelling at her. He watched the taped report, fury churning in his chest.

  “Get their names.” He didn’t look at his son. Seth would take care of everything. He would know what to do now.

  Aaron’s jaw clenched as he fought the rage building inside him. The mark on her neck was an abomination. Unnatural. For months, despite Seth’s neutral stand on the Breeds, Aaron had been funneling money into the attempted destruction of the animals. As he watched the news reports closer, saw the brief interview that came later—after the small wedding ceremony between his daughter and her pet—he wearily acknowledged such support would have to end. If she was happy.

  He frowned. What if she wasn’t? What if somehow she had been forced into this? If she had, he could bring her home. He could care for her. Give her all the things he had been unable to give her throughout her life. He could be her father.

  That was it, he thought, hope rising within him. Seth could do this. Of course, Aaron knew he would have to convince his son to do this his way. Seth was too direct, too damned honest. There were days he would have suspected that boy was sired by another, if it weren’t for the fact he looked so damned much like Aaron.

  The same dark brown hair and steel gray eyes. The same patrician features. It was like looking into the mirror of the past when he looked at his son. But he was a good boy, Aaron reminded himself. Strong.

  Tough. He was big enough and smart enough to get what he wanted, when he wanted it. He didn’t have to cheat. Not like his dad had.

  “You can’t tell her.” Aaron turned to Seth now, seeing the hard purpose that lined his son face. “Promise me, Seth. I swear, if you don’t tell her the truth, I’ll never deceive you again.” A cynical smile crossed Seth’s face, though he didn’t look over at his father. He was staring at the television. Another of the rare interviews with the full Pride.

  “You’ll always lie to me, Aaron.” Seth shrugged his broad shoulders in resignation.

  Aaron winced. He hadn’t called him “dad” in so long, Aaron had forgotten the sound of it.

  “You can’t tell her, Seth.” Grief whipped at his heart. If Seth told her the truth, she would never forgive him. Never call him dad.

  Seth sighed deeply. “I won’t tell her.”

  “We’ll have to be careful,” Aaron warned him. “We’ll have to watch things first. Let your boys check it out good. Real good. Make sure she’s happy.”

  Seth did glance at him then, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

  “We can stay in that town.” Aaron gestured to the television report. “Let your boys check it out…”

  “I can get the answers…”

  “Please, Seth.” Aaron put everything he had into the plea. “I swear, I won’t do anything. Just let me be sure. Just this one time. Let me be sure, my way.”

  Seth watched him closely. Aaron was more than aware of what his son saw. The old man, broken, wheelchair bound, slowly dying. And he was dying. He was paying for his sins in the worst possible way.

  A slow, painful death. Aaron knew it, and he wasn’t above using it. He wondered where Seth had found that wide streak of honor Aaron had cursed him for.

  Seth wiped his hand over his face tiredly. “We’ll see, Aaron. We’ll see.” He would weaken. Aaron sat back in his wheelchair, turning back to the report, his heart clenching.

  Pretty Veronica. His daughter. His sweet, perfect little girl. She would be home soon, he promised himself. Very, very soon.

  Epilogue

  Sherra watched Kane broodingly; unable to keep her eyes from him, unable to continue to deny what her body had been telling her for months. She was going into heat. She could feel the tiny fingers of need clawing at her flesh, demanding that she give in to the instinct to breed. Demanding that she go to the man who had made her his woman, his mate, over a decade before.

  God, had it really been that long? Over eleven years. Eleven long, torturous years she had suffered for that one night, for the fanatical plans of a brother who had been born as twisted and demented as his creators. Suffered for a man who had never loved her. Had never truly needed her. If he had done either, then perhaps, just perhaps, so many other things would not have happened.

  Sherra. Baby. Yes. Ah hell, yes baby, let me in…The remembered words were like a knife sinking into her soul. And yet the more she fought the memories, the more vivid they became.

  Kane Tyler. Tall, strong, his very presence had been enough to take her breath then, to fill her with a desire so strong it had nearly overwhelmed her. His touch had seared her senses, his kiss… She whimpered. She wouldn’t remember the kiss. Wouldn’t remember how her heart had clenched at the stroke of his tongue.

  A shiver worked over her body as she jerked to her feet, forcing herself away from the window, away from the sight of Kane moving with confident, arrogant power across the yard.

  How much longer would Merinus hold her secret, she wondered as she pushed her fingers through the long fall of hair that fell forward over her face. How much longer before the sister informed the brother of the child he had lost all those years ago? The child that had been murdered while still in her womb?

  Her hand moved to her abdomen, running over it with a ghost’s touch as her womb rippled in need.

  How often had she dreamed of what that child could have been? Dreamed of a precocious son with his father’s deep blue eyes, or a daughter with his long black hair. A child that would have been the best of both of them.

  Sherra fought back her tears, fought back all the useless dreams, the hopes that had once filled her. Life had taught her that there was no chance to redeem the past. No sense in regretting what could not be undone.

  I love you, Sherra…His remembered words whispered through her mind. I’ll be back, baby, I swear it.

  I’ll be back, and I’ll bring help… But he had never returned. He had never come back for her.

  The scientists had been ecstatic to learn she was breeding. Every precaution had been taken to insure the life of the child. Every precaution except that of a mind bent on death. Her baby’s death.

  The whimper that echoed around her couldn’t be hers, she assured herself. She had cried for that lost child years before. Cried until her soul bled out with the salty moisture of her pain. Cried until there had been nothing left inside her heart but an empty shell. Until Kane had returned. And with him, so had the memories she had fought so desperately.

  Ahh, Sherra. Yes, baby. So tight. So hot and tight.Her pussy tightened convulsively at the remembered feel of his cock pushing inside it. He had watched. She remembered that. Watched as every inch of his powerful erection sank into the burning depths of her hairless cunt. He had been fascinated by that lack of hair. Had loved licking the plump lips, feeling her juices slide against his tongue.

  “Stop,” she whispered, her fingers pushing into her hair, gripping it, hoping the pain would tear through the veil of heartache.

  They had had only one night. Only eight stolen hours during a time when he was supposed to be training her. He had trained her, but not in the lessons he had been ordered to deliver. He had trained her to his cock instead. Trained her to his kiss, to the touch of his hands. Trained her to love, and then later, to hate. She couldn’t seem to rid herself of the hatred, no matter the fact that he had been as powerless as she.

  Dayan. He had been her brother. Her confidante. He had been one of the few people she had trusted.

  His betrayal had been the worst. He had tried to kill Kane, Merinus had told her. It had been he who had slipped the drug into her food. The drug that forced the unwanted abortion on her already weak body. It had been her brother who had destroyed all that Sherra was. And now here she was, eleven years later, her body tormented with a lust she couldn’t seem to control, her heart breaking with memories she could no longer fight.

  God, yes. Suck my cock, baby. Yes, Sherra, oh hell, oh hell…He had tried to pull back, to keep from spilling his seed into her mouth but she had been desperate for the taste of his essence. Desperate to know every facet of the act they were engaged in.

  She licked her lips at the remembered taste.

  “When are you going to tell him?” Merc stood at the doorway of the office, staring back at her with bitter, hollow eyes. He knew, she thought, knew well the pain of losing all that mattered in his life.

  “Who said I was going to?” There was no hiding from the fact that he knew she was in heat. Hell, they all knew. Her scent was only undetectable by Kane. Only he was unaware of what her body was going through.

  “You can’t hide it from him forever. He’s not a fool.” He shook his head as he crossed his arms over his powerful chest. “It’s time to let go of the past, Sherra.” She snarled. “Fine advice for you to be giving,” she snapped. “When you’re strong enough to accept your own past, Mercury, then you can bitch at me for not accepting mine.” It was a low blow. Sherra shook her head as she groaned in misery.

  “Merc, I’m sorry.”

  He signed wearily. “No more than the truth. But you have a chance now, Sherra. Your mate still lives.

  And he’s more than ready to ease the pain beginning to build within you. Why fight it? Don’t you deserve more than this?”

  “Do any of us?” she whispered. “I can’t, Merc. I can’t.” She couldn’t face losing another child. She couldn’t face losing Kane all over again. “Too many years, too much anger.”

  “He’s your man,” he said simply. “Soon, he won’t take no for an answer. What will you do then? What will you do when he learns the truth you’ve hidden from him since he found you?” A tired, bitter smile crossed her lips. “I don’t know,” she sighed bleakly. “I just don’t know. And maybe that’s the part that truly, truly terrifies me, Merc. I don’t know if I can face his punishment.” Merc shook his head slowly. “Start counting the days, Sherra. Because soon, very soon, there won’t be any more hiding. He’ll know and when he does, he’ll show you why he’s your man. Maybe then you’ll realize the futility in fighting.”

  He turned and left the room, and in that moment she realized how right he was. Soon, she wouldn’t be able to hide her needs. They would invade every cell of her body, rendering her helpless and in such heat she’d be screaming for relief. She knew. She knew because it was a cycle. Every year. Every long wasted year she had been apart from him she had suffered. Suffered until death had seemed the only viable alternative. Suffered until she had cursed him, hated him and finally in a last desperate move had assured herself and nature that no child would ever come of her body. She had tricked Doc into sterilizing her and destroying forever a chance at the child and the man stolen from her. She had done the unthinkable. And now, she would suffer more. As always. Alone.

 

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