by T. S. Joyce
Utterly frustrated, she took a deep breath, counted to ten, and straightened her spine. Then she walked down the echoing, sterile hallway to meet the one person in her life who’d never let her down.
Chapter Six
“Dammit,” Kong muttered as he watched Layla disappear through the sliding glass doors of Tender Care. “What am I doing?”
Putting her at risk and still pissing her off, and why couldn’t he just leave her alone? He’d seen her walking down the main drag of Saratoga and pulled into the gas station without a second thought in his head other than I have to see her again. And not just see her, but talk to her and touch her, because when he was close to Layla, he felt a little less lost.
He hit the gas and pulled out of the parking lot, then sped through town to the sawmill. Kirk and Rhett were waiting in the office the second he got in.
“What took so long?” Rhett asked, blue eyes icy as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“None of your fucking business.” Because Kong wasn’t a liar, and he sure as shit didn’t feel the need to explain every second of his life to his handlers.
“You need another lesson in ditching us?”
“It was a gas station, Rhett. You could’ve turned around.” Kong sat at the desk and flipped through today’s orders. Good, the Gray Back Crew was scheduled to drop a load of lumber this morning. He could use some normal conversation with normal-ish shifters. Not this combative crap he had to keep up with Rhett all the time. Kirk wasn’t so bad. He was quiet and occasionally sympathized with him. He still did his job and had been fine beating the shit out of him last night, but at least Kirk looked sick about it. Rhett had beaten him with a ruthless smile on his face.
Someday, Rhett would find he was pushing the wrong silverback too far, though. And when he did, his ass better be ready to run because Kong’s inner monster didn’t take too kindly to being forced into submission for some stupid pictures of gore for Fiona. It had broken something in him last night to take it. Something that Kong didn’t think could be repaired. His animal was getting harder to control, and he couldn’t blame him. He was dominant, a berserker, and he was being beaten while down on his knees, cowed in front of a couple of lesser silverbacks.
And all for spending time with his mate.
“Don’t you have work to do?” he barked at Rhett, who was still standing there glaring at him.
Rhett’s face morphed into something feral, and his nostrils twitched as he locked his arms against the edge of the desk. “Be careful with her, Kong.”
Fury blasted through Kong’s veins as he stood and slammed his fists onto the desk. A crack blasted through the center of the oak under his hands. A long, low, uncontrollable rumble rattled his chest. “No, Rhett. It’s you who should tread lightly now.”
A slow empty smile spread across Rhett’s face. He pushed off the desk, chin up as he looked down at Kong. He turned and sauntered out of the office with a cocky gait.
“Kong,” Kirk whispered, shaking his head. “Rhett was fishing, and you just told him his hunch was right.” He ran his hands through his shoulder length hair and looked shaken. “Don’t see her again, man. Please.” Kirk left him alone in the office, the screen door banging loudly behind him.
Kong picked up a paperweight that held down a stack of receipts and chucked it against the wall hard enough to blast a hole through it. Doubling over, he grunted in pain as his inner gorilla pulsed against his insides. He wanted to kill Rhett. He wanted to rip his limbs from his body one by one for even mentioning Layla. Gritting his teeth against the pain of fighting the Change, he splayed his hands on the desk and dragged in a long, steadying breath. He thought of her clear sky-blue eyes. Her smile. The way her wavy hair fell forward in her face when she looked shy. The way her mouth formed his name. Kong. He could almost hear the soft sound of her voice. Little by little, his insides uncoiled and the rumble in his throat died to nothing.
Kong.
“Kong!” Rhett yelled from the loading area outside.
His eye twitched, and his lip lifted in an uncontrolled snarl. He had work to do, though. This sawmill didn’t run on dreams and wishes. It ran on blood, sweat, and hard work. He shoved off the desk, grabbed his clipboard, and strode out into the sunlight. The sound of the saw was a constant here, and Kirk was just warming it up now. They had big orders to fill, and a whole heap of beetle-infested lumber to treat. This was one of the only sawmills that tackled the monumental task. It was hard to do, but their ability to treat the ruined lumber and make it viable had put Kong’s sawmill on the map.
He strode past the big saw where Kirk was loading up logs to feed into it. Past the stacks of uneven junk pieces locals liked to purchase for refurbished wood pieces. Past the two-by-fours and the four-by-fours and the logs for cabins. This place was chaos at any given time, but he loved it. Here, he knew where everything was. Every piece of lumber. The numbers were constantly changing as he got in new loads from the lumberjacks up in Damon’s mountains and shipped them out to buyers, but he was good at keeping track—both in the books and in his head.
His phone chirped, and he pulled it from his back pocket. He didn’t recognize the number. Probably a buyer. “Hello?”
“I just got off the phone with Rhett,” Fiona purred through the line.
Kong’s boiling blood cooled to frigid in an instant, and he locked his legs, skidding to a stop on the dirt.
“I’m disappointed in you, Kong. You’ve done well to stay away from females all this time, and you’ve lost it right at the end.”
“The end?”
“It’s time. Your females have synced up their cycles and will be in heat again in the next couple of weeks.”
“I can’t do this.”
“You can, and you will, because it is your duty. You signed the contract—”
“You made me sign it—”
“You paid in blood for denying the gift I’ve given you! Have you forgotten that, Kong? You fought your destiny, and it almost killed you and your mother. Don’t force my hand again. Your life in Saratoga is through. Make the proper arrangements. You have a week to get back to Oregon and take your place as the Lowlander Silverback. And Kong?”
“What?” he gritted out as his world spun on its axis.
“You will be punished for your time with her.” The phone clicked and went silent.
The roaring in his ears was deafening. Not because of the punishment that was coming, but for the empty life he’d just been called upon to lead.
Rhett stood leaned against a table with the corners of his mouth turned up in a satisfied smile. Kong forced his gaze away from him to stifle the urge to yank his lungs out through his chest cavity.
The next three hours passed in a blur. His mind was taken with a roiling storm of emotions. Regret that he’d gone into that office and witnessed Layla’s vulnerable moment. Loss that he would never touch her, talk to her, or comfort her again. Desperation to hurry up and accept his lot in life so this wouldn’t hurt so badly. He wished he could rip himself away from Saratoga now instead of suffering through the next week. He had to try and sell the sawmill and his cabin, though, and he wanted to say goodbye to the crews who had been such a huge part of his life here.
Kong nodded a greeting as an eighteen wheeler pulled through the open gates toting a towering pile of stripped lumber. Beaston was driving with his mate, Aviana, riding shotgun. Despite his misery, Kong smiled. It was good to see them again.
“How was the Grand Canyon?” he asked as he tossed the last two-by-four into a pile ready to pick up.
“Good.” Beaston canted his head as he approached, his bright green eyes trained on Kong’s face. “Why do you look broken?”
“Easton,” Aviana said softly, holding his hand. “You shouldn’t say that about people.”
“No, it’s okay,” Kong said, shaking his head. He led them to a shaded area under one of the giant saws. It was a half built roof with beams exposed. Just enough of a shelter to keep the
elements at bay while they worked to shape the lumber.
Rhett tossed him a hate-filled glance as he and Kirk began unloading the logs from the back of the big rig, but Kong didn’t care. He only had to deal with the asshole one more week. That was the only plus to uprooting his life here. He wouldn’t need guards anymore when he was servicing the females like he was supposed to. He would be the right proper cowed silverback then. Beaston was right to call him broken.
“Can I ask a favor while you are in town?” Kong asked.
“Yes, anything,” Aviana said.
Kong handed her Layla’s keys and murmured, “There is a green Civic parked by the old fight barn near the gulch. Can you make sure it gets to the beige duplexes off of Rind?”
“Of course,” she murmured, pocketing the jingly keychain.
He sat on a crude bench as Beaston sat beside him, Aviana on her mate’s other side.
“What’s wrong?” Beaston asked in a hard tone.
Kong puffed air out of his cheeks as he watched his guards unload the truck a log at a time. “I just got called back home. I’ll be head of a family group come next week.”
“Congratulations,” Aviana said in a sweet voice, though confusion swam in her eyes. She twitched her black hair and blinked slow, and he smiled at how raven-like she was, even in her human skin.
“Not congratulations,” Beaston said softly. “Condolences. What about Layla?”
Kong jerked his attention to the wild-eyed Gray Back. He’d never told anyone about Layla, but Beaston was calling him out? “What about Layla?”
“She’s the love of your life. Even human. Even soft and full of tears, Layla’s good. You watch her like she’s yours, so she is.” Beaston leaned back against the bench and draped his arm around his mate’s shoulder, then frowned at the two men unloading lumber. “I don’t want you to go.”
“I don’t want to go either,” Kong admitted low, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
“I could kill them for you.” And there it was, the crazy side of Beaston that Kong adored. He’d said the words nonchalantly, but his offer wasn’t to be laughed off. Beaston would really give a go at offing them if Kong approved.
He clapped Beaston’s leg and leaned back with a private smile. “You’re a good friend, but I have to handle this one my own. It’s my duty.”
“Bullshit,” Beaston scoffed. “Layla’s your duty. Her happiness is your duty. Her safety is your duty.” He jerked his chin toward Rhett and Kirk. “No pretending those animals have anything to do with duty.” Beaston stood and spat in the dirt. “Your face looks like shit.” He pulled Aviana up and led her toward the now empty truck. Halfway there, he stopped and tossed Kong a glare over his shoulder. “Don’t go.” Then he shook his head and walked away.
“Bye, Kong,” Aviana said with a small wave. Her eyes swam with sadness that hit him right in the gut.
Easton made sure Aviana was safely tucked into her seat before he strode around the front of his truck. He lurched at Rhett and snapped his teeth so close to his face, Rhett had to jerk back or get bitten. Then Beaston climbed up behind the wheel and pulled away from the sawmill. And right as he passed Rhett, Beaston stuck his middle finger out the window and gave him a feral smile.
“Crazy,” Rhett muttered as he watched the truck pull away with his hands hooked on his hips.
Crazy? No, Beaston got things other people failed to. He had seen right through Rhett’s façade straight to his inner asshole in no time flat.
Kong scratched his lip with the back of his thumbnail as he watched Beaston and Aviana drive away. He’d grown attached to so much here.
He would never find a way to satisfy the hole this place was about to leave in his life.
****
Kong paced in front of the hospital room, clutching the quickly written apology in his fist. He couldn’t see Layla again. Not now. Not after the call from Fiona, but it gutted him to think of leaving her without a goodbye. Even if it was just a note passed through Mac.
Kirk was waiting in the parking lot in case he tried to bolt, but at least his handler had been kind enough to let him come into Tender Care alone. There was no risk of him screwing up here. Layla was working her shift at the bar now and no threat to his handlers’ jobs. She may as well be a million miles away.
Huffing three quick breaths, Kong knocked softly on the door that a nice nurse named Sherri had said was Mac’s.
“Come in,” a cracking, aged voice said.
Kong pushed open the door slowly and smiled, his chin to his chest so the old man wouldn’t feel threatened. It worked on his people, but he didn’t talk to humans much, so hopefully this would work.
“I thought you would pace those halls forever before you grew the nuts to walk in here,” the old man said, his wrinkles deepening with a smile. “Kong, I’m guessing?”
“Yes, sir,” he murmured, approaching the bed to shake Mac’s offered hand. It was cold and frail in Kong’s grasp, and he reminded himself to be gentle, like with Layla.
“Mac,” the man said, gesturing to a chair beside the bed.
Outside the large picture window, the sun had gone down and the evening was doused in shades of navy. Inside the room, it was sterile and white, and Kong’s work boots squeaked with every step he took toward the chair, but the soft glow of lights over Mac’s bed warmed up the room. That and all the pictures pinned to the wall behind his headboard. Kong studied the ones closest to him and smiled in surprise. They were all of Mac and Layla. Some of them, she didn’t look older than sixteen.
“My wife and I never had kids,” Mac said with a dreamy look at the photo Kong was staring at. “We tried, but it didn’t happen for us before she got sick. And then Layla came along, and I got my shot at raising one after all. Funny how things work out sometimes.”
Kong sat down in the chair and relaxed into it. “She told me about her parents leaving.”
Mac’s lips ticked as he shook his head in disgust. “They weren’t fit in the first place. Layla fell to pieces when they left, but me? I was glad they were gone. At least Layla had a shot of a couple of normal years before she went out on her own. It was late in her life to give her stability, but she took to it. Most kids would’ve acted out, but not her. She was a Steady-Eddie. Responsible beyond what the kids at her school were, but she’d already been on her own a lot by then.” Mac swung his intelligent gaze to Kong. “I’m so proud of that kid I don’t know what to do with myself.”
Kong grinned and nodded. “She sure loves you.”
Mac nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Do you know what she does every morning, first thing?”
Kong shook his head. He didn’t know nearly enough about Layla.
“She drives out to the cemetery and waters my late wife’s grave. Gloria has the greenest patch of grass and the cleanest headstone. I used to do it. Every day I visited my wife because I still feel very much married. But when my health went, Layla picked up where I couldn’t. She brings me pictures every time she visits, and my Gloria has different flower arrangements in every one.”
Kong’s throat tightened as he fell for Layla even more. She was a good one. A genuinely decent person. Perhaps she was the best he’d ever met, and he was saying goodbye in a letter.
“Can I ask you something?” Kong said softly as he fingered the folded paper in his hands.
“Sure.”
“Why didn’t you ever re-marry? Lots of people find someone else after they lose a mate, but you didn’t. Why not?”
“Because my Gloria was it for me, son. And may you be lucky enough to find a woman like that. I had thirty good years with the love of my life. I lived an entire lifetime with her. Some men only get one big love, Kong. One shot at that kind of happiness. Anyone else would’ve just felt like filler until I died and joined Gloria again.”
Mac watched him for a long time, but Kong couldn’t speak. Not now when he felt like Layla was that for him. The other females were the filler, and he was choosing
them over something real with her.
“Layla has talked about you over the years,” Mac said quietly. “People don’t affect her like they do you or me. She shut down after her parents left and became protective of her heart. But with you, I saw that spark in her eyes again. It was nice to see her open up about someone other than me. I was hoping she wouldn’t be alone in this world when I go. This morning she said you would leave soon, though.”
Kong nodded his head, a deep ache unfurling in his chest. “I’ve been called away. I’ll be gone in a week.” He made a single clicking sound behind his teeth and met Mac’s sympathetic gaze. “I’m letting her down.”
Mac’s eyes rimmed with moisture as he pointed with a shaking, knobbed finger to the pirate romance Layla had gotten him from the library. “Read to me a while?”
Kong nodded and replaced the thick book on the end table with the goodbye note he’d brought for Layla.
“The second to last page of chapter sixteen,” Mac instructed.
Kong flipped through to the right page and read aloud. “As he watched his love float away at the helm of the small tug boat, he knew he’d made a grave mistake. A necessary one for her since she would be better off safe on land than on the arm of a high seas criminal, but a detrimental one to him. With every stroke his first mate rowed her away from him, his heart turned blacker, darker, and more hollow as a pain reared up inside of him and became too harsh to bear. He was killing himself by sending her away but saving her in the process, and all because of who he’d turned out to be. So many decisions in his life that had gotten him to this exact moment in time would haunt him, but he couldn’t regret the journey. The jagged road he’d taken in his life had led him to a few glorious moments with her. He’d lived more in the last two weeks than he had in the entirety of his forgettable life because he’d known love—the bone-deep kind that changed a man from the inside out. And now…he knew sacrifice.” Kong’s voice cracked on that last word, and he shut the book, unable to read anymore. He swallowed several times before he braved a glance back to Mac. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.