Another Tiger Bites the Dust

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Another Tiger Bites the Dust Page 10

by ML Guida


  “Kevin Hartley.” This whole time he thought Grant Sellars was the arsonist, but to find out it was a clean-cut kid nearly drove him mad.

  “I can’t believe it. I think he murdered Sandy.” Her voice was low as if she were afraid her walls had ears.

  He got up, not able to sit anymore, and paced the room, remembering how many times he’d done the same thing in his cell. “And your boss covered it up?”

  “Yes.”

  He slammed his fist against the wall. Pain exploded against his knuckles. “So, why would Hartley keep all these photos?”

  She frowned. “Don’t hurt your hand. I don’t know, but whatever it is, it’s not good.”

  “My hand’s fine.” A definite lie. His hand throbbed. “Since you acquired these illegally…”

  She flashed him a grim look.

  “We can’t go to the cops.”

  “Maybe we don’t need the photos. We have someone who knows exactly what happened.”

  “Grant Sellars. He came to the trial to see if Gerri or you or me connected the dots.”

  “Yeah, the bastard’s definitely in the middle of this.” He put his hands behind his head. “Well, I can tell you Grant won’t coorperate. Not legally anyway. He needs to be persuaded.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “I bet Kevin Hartley has been in the sedan.”

  “Maybe. I doubt your boss would want his precious son to get his hands dirty.”

  She walked over to him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she laid her head on his chest. Her spicy scent tempted him to seduce her and bury himself inside her to forget about the hate brewing inside him.

  “So, what do you think we should do?” Her drained voice brought him back to reality.

  “I think we take the offense. Where does Grant live?”

  She looked up at him. “He lives in Cherry Creek Farms.”

  His heart stilled. “Before I went to prison, Grant had some one-bedroom condominium. It was only two steps above my hotel room.”

  “Oh, God, Griff.”

  “I think there’s a very good reason why your boss has these photos.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh, shit.”

  “Somehow Grant got a hold of Kevin’s camera.”

  “And he’s been black-mailing Mr. Hartley.”

  “I’m sure Kevin doesn’t have any money.” His tiger senses tingled. He sniffed. “Do you smell that?”

  “I don’t smell anything.”

  “Well, I do. Wait here.”

  “No.” She shut her laptop and put it in her case. “I’m not staying here.”

  He glared at her, but he didn’t have time to argue. She came up right behind him. He motioned for her to wait. He stepped out of the office. The smoldering smell was faint, but definitely there.

  He inhaled deeper.

  Shit, gas.

  He whirled around and grabbed Lara, lifting her into his arms.

  “Griff, what are you doing?”

  Adrenaline blocked out everything but escape. He charged toward the bay window and pushed his shoulder down like he used to do in football. Glass and wood shattered.

  Lara screamed and clung to him.

  His heart thundered. Blood pounded between his ears.

  Pumping his legs as fast as he could, he bolted toward the lilac bushes. He jumped into the thickest one. He slammed Lara onto the ground and covered her body with his.

  An explosion rocked the house. Wood, mortar, and glass shot over him like bullets. Burning leaves and flowers fell on his body. Heat rippled around over him. If it hadn’t been for the bushes taking the brunt of the explosion, they’d be dead.

  He slowly lifted his head. Lara’s once beautiful house was engulfed in flames. Windows were blown out. What must have been the kitchen was a half empty shell.

  “Lara?”

  “Oh, God. My house. My house.” She broke into sobs.

  She was heartsick, but alive. Helpless to do anything else, he held her.

  Burning ash drifted on top of them. He scanned the backyard, but didn’t see anyone. Every tiger sense–smell, vision, taste–was primed for an attack. If he saw anyone taking pictures, he wouldn’t be responsible for the outcome.

  The sick bastard must be taking pictures. That, he was sure of.

  He looked at the houses around them. A movement in a tree caught his gaze. Someone was in the tree, someone wearing an orange polo shirt.

  Fury fired into his heart like a gunshot. Adrenaline spurred the revenge buried deep within him. He growled and scooted off her. “Lara, I see him.” His voice was full of death.

  Sirens screamed in the background.

  “What?” She wiped her tears. “Where?”

  “I see him. In the trees. He’s shooting pictures.” His upper lip pulled back into his sneer. “Are you hurt?”

  “No. What––”

  He didn’t answer her. He quit holding back his tiger that was fueled by hate, anger, and vengeance.

  He released a loud roar that shook the trees. He stepped out from the lilac bush, his paws crushing the ash, glass, and wood. Sparks fell onto his fur and singed him, but he ignored the sizzling pain. His gaze never left the man’s face that changed from excitement to pure terror.

  He froze. When Griff moved, he clamored down the branches, but he was no match for Griff. Rage spurned him on, making him more powerful, stronger, hungrier for death.

  He lunged over the fence, mangled with holes and debris embedded in the wood. He dodged curious and terrified on-lookers.

  Nothing mattered.

  He shrieked.

  His prey––Kevin Hartley––ran toward the same damn green sedan with a busted, bloody windshield. Griff could smell his sweating fear.

  This time there was no escape.

  He was faster.

  Kevin dropped his camera and screamed.

  Griff snarled and lunged. He flew through the air and landed squared on Kevin’s back, dropping him five feet from his car. His paws were on each of his shoulders.

  “Stand down.” Police officers were on either side of him. “Or we’ll shoot.”

  “No.” As usual, Lara hadn’t listened. She was waving her arms. “Don’t shoot. Don’t shoot. The tiger’s got the man who blew up my house.”

  “Wait, wait.” A bulky policeman grabbed her arm.

  “Let go of me.” Lara twisted and stomped on his foot.

  “I said calm down.” He held both of her arms.

  “Help me.” Kevin turned his head and his brown eyes were huge, almost completely black. “Shoot him.”

  Griff growled and put his ears back. Drool splattered onto Kevin’s brown hair. Every tiger instinct screamed kill, kill, kill.

  “Change back now, or we’ll shoot.” Police officers fanned around him. This was the apartment building all over again.

  “No. He didn’t do anything. He trapped the culprit. Listen to me….Please.”

  Griff changed back into himself, but kept his hands on each of Kevin’s shoulders. “Talk, fire boy, or I’ll change back and rip out your damn throat.”

  “He’s crazy.” Kevin struggled underneath him.

  He was smaller than Griff and no match.

  “My father…” His voice was strong but his eyes and trembling mouth betrayed him.

  Griff clutched Kevin’s hair and yanked his head back hard. “Your father isn’t here. And you’ll pay for threatening my mate.”

  He looked to the side. “Please, help me.”

  Shots rang out. Bullets whizzed over Griff’s head.

  A fire dance of bullets thundered all round him. His heart pounded faster and his skin crawled. Griff put his shaking hands over his head.

  Just as sudden the shots stopped. He looked up.

  Firemen aimed water hoses at Lara’s burning home. Black, gray, and white smoke swirled around the smoldering frame. The stench of sulfur and ash was enough to choke him.

  “Both of you get up. Hands in the air.”

  “Ple
ase, Griff.” Tears stained Lara’s soot covered cheeks.

  He took a deep breath and forced his shaking legs to stand. The cops had trigger fingers. Griff had no intention of being a causality. He raised his hands high over his head.

  “Move away from him.” The burly cop who had restrained Lara motioned with his revolver.

  “He’s got a gun.”

  Griff turned his head. Kevin had a gun and aimed right at him.

  He flashed him a deadly smirk and his eyes were filled with madness. “Say good-bye, Tiger.”

  He fired.

  Someone shoved him out of the way, and he fell on his side.

  Cops fired. Bullets riddled through Kevin. He twisted and turned in a deadly dance. Blood rolled down his chin and he dropped the gun. He fell motionless. Madness and flames reflected in his baby brown eyes.

  But Griff didn’t care.

  Lara had pushed him.

  Don’t die. Don’t die. Please don’t die.

  But the gods were against him. A circle of blood magically spread over the center of one breast. She gurgled, spitting up blood. He held her in his arms, willing her to stay alive.

  “Lara, you’re going to be all right.” His voice cracked, his throat squeezed tighter and tighter, and his eyes burned. Something pushed against his chest, something he hadn’t felt since he was a small boy, something he swore he’d never feel again.

  “I love you.” Her voice faded. Her eyes stared into space then closed.

  The feelings of sadness, loss, and misery burst through his ribs, shaking him to his very core.

  “No.” He tossed his head back and screeched. Not an animal screech, but a wail of a man who had just lost everything.

  Revenge had cost him his mate. This was his fault. He shouldn’t have chased Kevin. He should have made sure Lara was safe. It was his job to protect her.

  He held her close, her hair falling over his arm, and rocked back and forth. The cops, and the fire, and Kevin’s corpse blurred away and for the first time in a long time, tears fell. His throbbing chest heaved and he struggled to breathe. He wept like a little boy. His tiger whined. His heart shattered.

  He hadn’t cared about anyone for a long time.

  Until now.

  And he lost her.

  Chapter 11

  The sound of beeps and bings and blings tugged at Lara’s hot dream. Something burned in her chest as if someone had stabbed a fiery poker through muscle and bone. She inhaled the smell of disinfectants and medicine instead of smoke. Where was she?

  Panic fluttered inside her, but her body failed to respond. Her eyes were heavy as if her lids had been glued shut. Her limbs were heavy. Her heart beat was slothish.

  Someone caressed her limp hand. Tingles swept up her arm and slowly awakened her sluggish body.

  She opened her eyes to find herself lying in a hospital room. The shades were drawn and only a tiny bit of sunlight was allowed to enter the room. The television was off. An IV was hooked up to her wrist.

  Griff sat next to her in a small chair, his thumb stroking her hand. His hair was disheveled as if he had been running his fingers through it again and again.

  “Griff, she’s awake,” a soft feminine voice said. She knew that gentle tone. Cora. It was Cora.

  Griff lifted his head. His pale face was stricken. His golden eyes were bloodshot and had dark circles were underneath them. He clasped her hand. “Lara?” His voice was unsteady and she thought any minute it would shatter.

  She tried to moisten her lips, but didn’t have enough spit to do it. She opened her mouth to answer, but a bone-splitting cough stole her words.

  “Easy, Lara.” Cora was at her side with a cup of water. She draped her arm around Lara’s shoulder. “Here, drink this.” She didn’t look much better than Griff. Mascara was smeared underneath her eyes and her lips were drawn tight.

  Seth was standing in the corner looking helpless.

  Lara sipped the water. Coolness rushed over the dryness in her throat and eased the brittleness on her lips. “What happened?” Her voice was harsh and hard.

  Griff pushed her hair back. “You were shot. Kevin fired.” He turned his head away as if trying to gain control. “You shoved me out of the way.”

  She gripped his hand, but her strength was so weak. She wasn’t sure he felt it. “I couldn’t let you die.”

  He jerked his head back to her. His dark eyelashes were wet. Anguish flashed in his eyes. “I thought…I thought you were going to die.” He put her hand next to his forehead and kissed it. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have gone after Kevin. It’s my fault.”

  Tears were on his cheeks. Something she didn’t think a tough convict would ever show.

  “Griff, look at me.”

  He stared down at her with a furrowed brow.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  He drew in a shaky breath. “Yeah, you keep saying that, but I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”

  She smiled, wishing she could mate with him now, but the sharp pain in her chest had different ideas. “How long have I been in here?”

  Cora fluffed her pillow. “A week. The doctors weren’t sure you were going to make it.” She tilted her head toward Griff. “He’s been mad with grief. He broke his hand.”

  Griff raised his casted hand. “Won’t be slamming any more walls for a while.”

  “What happened to Kevin––”

  Griff’s eyes darkened. “Dead. He’s lucky the cops shot him.”

  Lara shivered, knowing no one would have been able to stop him from ripping Kevin apart.

  Cora glared. “Get a hold of yourself, Griff. Lara just told you that she needs you.”

  Seth came up behind her and put his hands on her slender shoulders. “Easy tigress.” He kissed the back of her neck. “He knows. I think we need to give them some room. I’ll buy you a coke to calm you down.”

  Cora kissed Lara’s forehead. “We’ll be back soon.” She took Seth’s hand and they both left.

  She opened her mouth, but pain whizzed through her and she gasped.

  “Shhhhh.” He kissed her dry lips. “Before you ask, the bad guys are all in jail. They won’t be coming after us anytime soon. You’re safe.”

  She took a deep breath, waiting for the pain to ease away. “No, we’re safe. I want to be with you, Griff. I want to be with you forever.”

  “I know. But first you have to get well. I’m not going anywhere. Sleep.”

  She closed her eyes, holding onto his hand, and dreamed of smoldering tiger eyes.

  A week later, a nurse pushed Lara to the hospital entrance. Snow had sprinkled on the ground and the sun was hiding today. Gray clouds covered the skyline, but she didn’t care. She was free at last from the pokes and jabs of the hospital.

  Her breast was tender. According to the doctors, she was lucky. The bullet had been a clean entry, not hitting any major organs. But it had torn muscle and broken a rib.

  Griff pulled up in the brand new black Escalade Mr. Burkley had bought her, probably in hopes she wouldn’t sue the firm.

  He ran around the SUV and helped her inside. His strong arms made her feel safe.

  When he got back inside, he turned. “Do you want to go to Cora’s house or your parents or a hotel? Mr. Burkley said the firm would pay for it.”

  She shook her head. “No. I want to go to your place.”

  “Are you sure?” His eyes brightened and excitement drifted into his voice.

  “Yes, I’m sure.” She leaned over and kissed him on his lips.

  He kissed her back hungrily. His tongue swirled around inside her mouth, and his beard scraped her lips. She had missed the tingles moving through her and wanted so much more.

  He broke off first and looked at her through hooded eyes. “My place, it is.”

  She leaned back on the heated leather seat. The leaves were gone and cars sprayed slush onto the Escalade. The dreary day matched the constant weariness that had settled over her.
r />   “I can’t go back to Buckley and Hartley. I’d never feel safe there again.” Her voice was devoid of emotion.

  “What do you want to do?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if I want to be an attorney anymore. Law has lost its appeal.”

  He put his hand on her cold one. “You can stay with me for long as you want.”

  She looked at his handsome face. He’d saved her so many times and he was still saving her. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind? I don’t want to be a burden.”

  “Hell, no. Lara, I don’t want you to ever leave.”

  She kissed his hand. “Then you have a deal. I only feel safe with you.”

  He parked the SUV in front of his hotel room––lucky thirteen. He opened the door.

  “I’ll carry you.”

  She didn’t argue and allowed him to carry her through the doorway. She numbly wished it was a threshold, but he hadn’t said anything about marriage and she was too tired to ask.

  He carefully laid her on the bed with its threadbare blankets that looked so comfortable. He stretched out next to her and she placed her head on his chest. His pounding heart was like a lullaby. She yawned. “I’m so tired.”

  He stroked her hair. “Then sleep, mate, sleep.”

  She snuggled next to him, wanting his smell on her. Knowing he was next to her, kept the nightmares away.

  The days of getting out of the hospital had turned into weeks. Her wound had turned into a dime-size scar. Griff called it her taking-one-for-their-team scar. He’d been great these past weeks, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being scared all the time.

  Any sudden nose–a car backfiring, a can of pop opening, a crackle of paper––made her fall to pieces.

  Griff had kept his distance from her, only kissing her and stopping anything more intimate.

  Well, she was damn tired of him suddenly being a gentleman.

  She wanted her convict back.

  The sound of the shower summoned her bravery. He was in there naked.

  And she wanted him.

  Yesterday, Cora had taken her to the doctor who had said she was ready to return to all activities, including sex. She’d told Griff last night, but he hadn’t made a move.

 

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