Lowlander Silverback

by T. S. Joyce

  “Females, plural?”

  He dipped his chin once, his now dark eyes churning with sadness.

  “King Kong,” she murmured, feeling stupid for not catching it before now.

  He nodded again.

  “So there was never a chance for us to…”

  He shook his head slow, lips pursed into a thin line.

  “You can’t be with humans anyway, can you?”

  Kong scratched the back of his short, dark hair in agitation and stared off into the woods. “It’s not like I chose this, Layla. I wish I was born a bear shifter where I would have more freedom to be with you, but who I breed with isn’t my choice.”

  “Breed with?”

  He nodded again, looking ill in the blue moonlight. “I’m ready for kids, but it’s more than that. There is a leader of my people, a woman. She got to where she is because she’s the cruelest of all of us. She’s killed anyone who has opposed her. That woman is in charge of genetics and forming family groups. There aren’t many of us, so if we’re chosen for a duty, we have to do what she says. And when I was born, I bore the mark of the Kong. This stupid birthmark on my back that she determined means I’m the Kong. The Lowlander Silverback.”

  “Do you want to…breed…lots of women?”

  “No!” Kong gripped the back of his head. “God, no, but that’s the way it is for us. Shit.” He slammed his shoulder blades back against the trunk of an ancient pine tree. His voice echoed with hollowness when he said, “I won’t even be involved in my kids’ lives like I want to. I’m there for two things. Fucking and protection. When Fiona calls me up, my life in Saratoga is over.”

  “But what about your sawmill? What about your friends here?”

  “I’ll have to sell and say goodbye.”

  “This isn’t fair. It’s not.” Layla shook her head over and over in disbelief. Kong wasn’t just unavailable. He was on-another-planet unavailable. But it wasn’t just herself she was devastated for. Kong’s life echoed with emptiness. How sad that he wouldn’t fall in love or raise his kids. How sad that he would have to give up the life he’d built here for some archaic tradition.

  How utterly sad that he didn’t have any choice in his life.

  Heartbroken, Layla murmured, “I think you should take me home.” Because getting to know Kong better out in these dark, secret woods was only going to make it harder to say goodbye when he was called up to leave Saratoga.

  He was quiet for a long time, leaned against that tree, staring at her with an unfathomable expression. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but closed it again and dropped his gaze to the ground. “Okay, Layla. I’ll take you home.”

  He sauntered off toward his car, leaving her to trail behind. And that’s when she saw it for the first time. The long, dark birthmark down his back that tapered into a smattering of constellation shapes just above his left hip.

  The mark of the Kong.

  Three years of adoring a man who wasn’t only separated from her by species, but by tradition as well.

  The mark of the Kong said he wasn’t meant for her at all.

  Chapter Four

  The unfairness of it all socked Kong in the stomach and took his air. Layla was quiet and somber in the seat next to him as he drove her down the back roads toward Saratoga. As an apology, he wanted to hold her hand, gently even, if that’s what she needed. If he’d been born different, he wouldn’t be hurting her now. He could make her happy. Make her smile.

  Every time he looked over at her, she was staring out the window with her arms clutched around her middle like she felt as gut-punched as he did right now. Her soft blond waves were covering most of her face, and his fingers itched to tuck the strand behind her ear and out of the way.

  Something was wrong with him. Pairing up wasn’t supposed to be emotional. It was supposed to be learning to balance several female personalities as they figured out how to be a family group under him. It was supposed to be getting them pregnant when they went into heat and making sure they were safe and provided for. It was supposed to be detached. Eat, fight, sleep, screw.

  So why had he, of all the males, latched onto a lone human female? It didn’t make any sense. Maybe it was because he’d been hanging around the bears too much. Watching each of them pair up with a mate they would go through life with, his heart had softened and changed. Now, he wanted a female to protect and love, too. He wanted one woman to bear him offspring. One woman who would let him hold his young and help raise them to be proper little gorillas.

  He wanted Layla.

  His mood darkened by the moment. His interest in the soft human beside him could get her killed, though, which in turn, would feel like it had killed him. God, he hoped he’d hidden her well enough on the way out of the barn. He hoped with everything he had that Rhett and Kirk hadn’t seen Layla there at his fight.

  “This is me,” Layla said softly.

  Kong leaned forward and studied the trio of beige bricked duplexes. The small complex was just outside of town, and behind the houses was tall pine wilderness. He cut the engine, and before she could escape, he said, “I was telling you to stop talking so I could focus. You were talking about banging on the hood of my car, and after fights, I’m already riled up. You’re right, though. Doesn’t matter the reason, I shouldn’t talk to you like that.”

  Forcing his hand to be gentle, he tugged at her lobe and studied the cut near her earring. “I wanted to kill that asshole.”

  She lifted her startled gaze to Kong, and her lips parted slightly. “Thanks for defending me.”

  Always.

  “Goodbye, Kong.” Layla got out of the car and Kong followed.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Walking you to your door.”

  A baffled smile eased across her full lips. “Like at the end of a date?”

  Kong laughed and ran his hand over his hair. “This is the closest I’ll ever get to one again.”

  “Well,” she drawled out, staring thoughtfully at the door with the letter C on it. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee? Or hot tea? I don’t really know what you can and can’t drink,” she murmured with a self-deprecating shake of her head.

  She was so fucking cute all shy around him now. Oh, she could charm customers at the bar when she had her bartender face on, but she’d never acted like that with him. With him, she seemed to walk on uneven ground, and he liked that she was off-balance when she was talking to him. He felt the same around her.

  “Uhh,” he said, searching the street for Rhett or Kirk’s cars. If they had seen him leave with Layla, they hadn’t figured out where she lived yet. “I probably shouldn’t.”

  “Right.” She nodded as though she’d expected that exact answer, and he hated himself for hurting her feelings again.

  “Fuck it,” he murmured. “Hot tea sounds good.”

  Her delicate eyebrows, just a shade darker than her blond hair, arched in surprise. “Really?”

  “One date is all we have.” And he wasn’t ready by any means to say goodnight—and goodbye—to her yet. What was the harm in one mug of tea with her?

  While she unlocked her door, he waited with his hands behind his back to fight the temptation to touch her.

  “Don’t judge,” she said. “I didn’t know I was going to have company or I would’ve cleaned up.”

  But when he stepped through the door, he had to check her face to see if she was being serious or not. The wood floors were swept and glossy under the pristine white couch. Colorful throw pillows were stacked neatly in place on the comfortable-looking cushions. There was a vase of fresh flowers on a coffee table that was made of planks of refurbished wood with iron accents. A small television was hung above the white brick fireplace, and on the small dining table off the kitchen was a matching vase of similar yellow flowers. Other than a stack of books piled off-kilter on the table, everything looked tidy.

  “Woman, you would feel a lot better if you saw my cabin right now. My
roommates are slobs.”

  “You have a cabin?”

  He smiled at the genuine interest in her voice. “Yeah. I have a piece of land closer to Damon’s mountains.”

  “Is Rhett one of your roommates?”

  “Yeah, I live with Rhett and Kirk. Again, not my choice. Fiona assigned them to me when she chose me for the Kong.”

  “Oh.” Layla set her purse down by a stack of mail and padded into the kitchen.

  With a deep frown, Kong brushed the top letter away to reveal a red open immediately label on the next envelope. It was a late bill.

  “Do you have a preference in teas?” she asked, her back to him as she rummaged through a cupboard.

  “Uh, no. I’m not picky.” He thumbed away a few more, and all of them seemed to be overdue. “Layla?” he asked, holding up a stack of them. “What’s going on?”

  Turning, Layla gasped when she saw what he held. She sucked in air as if she was going to give him hell for going through her mail, but then in a huff, she turned back to a box of tea she’d removed from the cabinet. “That’s none of your business.”

  Kong tossed the mail back into the stack and strode for the kitchen. He pulled the half-wrapped tea bag from her fingertips and pulled her to face him. “Are you in trouble?”

  “No. Things are tight right now, but everything will be okay. I’m handling it.”

  “Handling what?”

  She sighed heavily and yanked her wrists from his grip. “I didn’t ask you to come in so we could discuss my finances. I wanted to get away from all of it for one night. Can’t you understand that?”

  Kong huffed a short breath. He understood the need for an escape more than she would ever know.

  Not wanting to see the disappointment swelling in her sad blue eyes anymore, he pulled her in close, careful to be gentle this time. She was soft against him. Soft tits against his hard torso, and his boner was raging between them, but who gave a shit? Not him. “Tell me.”

  Her rigid body relaxed by a fraction. “Mac was my neighbor growing up. He was the one I was talking to on the phone when you came into the office. So when I was sixteen… I swear to God, Kong, if you think I’m pathetic or pity me after I tell you this, I’ll never forgive you.”

  “I won’t think you’re pathetic. I promise.”

  “And I don’t talk about this shit with anyone, so no sharing it with your roommates or the bear crews or whoever it is you talk with. It’s a small town, and it’s taken me a long time to get to this point.”

  “Okay, I swear I won’t tell anyone.” He was also trying real hard not to feel flattered since she was about to tell him things she didn’t share with anyone else.

  “When I was sixteen, my parents left.”

  “Wait. They left? Like, they just were out on parenting you anymore?”

  “Yeah. They went on vacation and didn’t feel like coming back to Saratoga. It’s fine. It’s…fine.” She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself. “So they asked the old man next door to be my guardian so I could finish out high school here, and Mac was the one who took me in. He was a parent to me when my real ones bailed.”

  “Geez,” Kong said, shaking his head. He couldn’t imagine ever doing that to his kid.

  “Mac went into hospice care a few months ago, and I’m trying to keep his house for him. I tried to break the lease here so I can move into Mac’s house and just pay one set of bills, but the landlord will charge me a ridiculous amount of money to leave the duplex early. And my contract is up in four months anyway, so if I can just float us until then, I can start digging us out of the hole when I move into the house. But right now with his care bills, his mortgage, my bills and rent, things are just a little tight. And sometimes I get scared I won’t keep the collectors off my back long enough to keep Mac’s house. He’s really sick. If he found out I lost the house him and his wife bought together, he might stop fighting for his life.” Slowly, she wrapped her arms around Kong’s waist and snuggled her face against his chest, softening to him bit by bit. “And it actually feels really nice to tell someone that.”

  Kong’s heart beat erratically against his sternum. Could she hear it? Could she feel the vibration of how much she affected him in this moment? It was plain and obvious that Layla was much more complex than just some bartender with an easy smile. She was one of those good-to-the-marrow, decent people. The type of person who would shoulder a huge amount of stress to reassure an old man that everything was going to be okay. She didn’t know it, but she’d just rocked Kong to the core with the admission of her daily sacrifices.

  “Then why were you fighting my tip so badly? I don’t understand. You could use that money to take some of the pressure off.”

  Layla sniffled, and that little sound pierced his heart. She brushed her knuckles under her lashes quickly and slid out from his embrace. “Sit on down, and I’ll get you cleaned up.”

  “What?”

  “You’re all cut up,” she said with a shrug as she avoided his gaze.

  Cut up? He looked at his reflection on the glass insert cabinet near the fridge and cringed. Some faux-date he was. Harrison had popped him good right under the eye in the fight, and it had been a gusher. The cut was mostly healed now and hadn’t bothered him at all, but half his face was covered in a dried stream of crimson.

  All he wanted to do right now was take care of Layla. To ease her burden somehow. Money? He could make all of her problems go away, but that wasn’t what she wanted or needed from a man. And now he was utterly confused on what he could do to make her feel better. The hug had made her shoulders relax, but then she’d pushed him away.

  He leaned back on the counter, mystified by the woman’s needs. With gorilla females, they needed protection, sex, and to be provided for. He could protect Layla and could certainly provide for her, but she didn’t want that. She was independent, and a gaping piece of him admired her for that. She didn’t need his help. He crossed his arms over his bare chest as she filled up a tea kettle with water and then disappeared down a short hallway.

  Pushing off the counter, he studied the pictures stuck to her refrigerator with colorful magnets and clips. Most were of her smiling with a gray-haired man with glasses who, from the look on his face, truly adored Layla. And along the top was a row of postcards. Most were from Florida. He plucked one out from under a zombie magnet and read the back.

  Miss you bunches. Merry Christmas. Mom and Dad.

  The writing was scribbled and messy, as if whoever had written it was in a hurry.

  “Pretty lame, huh?” Layla asked.

  Kong jumped and turned a startled gaze on her. “What is?”

  “Keeping their letters where I have to see them all the time.”

  “Do you talk to them on the phone?”

  Her lips turned up at one corner as she shook her head. “It’s easiest if we don’t talk.”

  Kong dragged his attention back to the postcard. The only correspondence between Layla’s parents and her. It was postmarked three days before Christmas a few years ago. “Easiest for you or for them?”

  “Your eyes are glowing.”

  “Well, this shit pisses me off.”

  “Why? It doesn’t piss me off. I have Mac. Now sit.”

  Kong snorted an offended sound as he replaced the postcard under the zombie magnet. “I’m a gorilla, Layla, not a Labrador.” When she lifted her eyebrows and waited, he growled softly and sat in a creaking chair at the table, clearly not made for weight like his.

  With a distracted smile on her lips, she filled a bowl with warm water and pulled up a chair in front of him. She wasn’t close enough for his liking, so he pulled the backs of her knees until her chair scooted toward him and her legs settled right in the apex between his. There. Better. His animal quieted the beating of his chest and settled inside him. Fight nights always riled him, but Layla was proving to be a worthy balm. Damn, she was close to his throbbing dick. Focus. You signed a contract.

  “Tell me
about your crew,” she murmured as she dabbed a moist washrag under his eye.

  “My crew or my friends?”

  “You dislike Rhett?”

  “And Kirk. They’re my handlers, nothing more.”

  “Okay, then tell me about your friends. Your real ones. I’ve seen you with the bear crews at Sammy’s.”

  “Matt is the guy I go to when I need to get something off my chest.”

  “Matt Barns of the Gray Backs?”

  He nodded slightly as she wrung out the water in the bowl and began the gentle stroking of his face with the rag.

  “I wish they were my crew.” Kong swallowed hard, but the words were already out there in the air between them. He’d never said that out loud before.

  Layla stopped cleaning and looked up at him with startled blue eyes. From this close, he could see green flecks in the middle. Beautiful. He felt drunk. As if she’d given him a truth serum. Siren. Enchantress.

  “The Gray Backs are notoriously violent misfits who don’t fit in with any crew. I know because I’ve served them since before they registered to the public. Those are some scary bears.”

  Kong shrugged his shoulder. She hadn’t seen scary yet. Hadn’t seen the monster inside of him.

  “Can I tell you something?” Layla asked as she began rubbing the washcloth gently down his neck to the red splatters on his chest. “I like the Gray Backs. Even wild, they’ve always been nice to me. Easton almost killed a man for groping my ass a couple of months ago. Or Beaston, I guess they call him.”

  Pride and relief surged through him that she hadn’t judged his pathetic want to be a part of a ragtag misfit crew. They were a mixed bag of nuts—the crazy kind. Bears with scars in their middles that made them dangerous to the world but not to each other. A human, a raven, and a little baby dragon who didn’t fit anyplace else, and for some reason, Kong couldn’t think of a better batch of people to surround himself with. Layla’s approval meant more than anything in the world. He grinned, unable to help himself, and dropped his gaze so she wouldn’t see how pathetic he was for needing to please her.