by Jodi Vaughn
She took off her designer shades and patted the shimmer of sweat that had settled on her face. She took a steadying breath, opened the door, and stepped inside.
The wave of emotion washed over her so swiftly it almost knocked her back a step.
It was a place she used to meet him. The only male she’d ever loved. Anguish tugged at her heart, and she forced herself to swallow the knot in her throat.
She spotted the bar and made her way over. The sooner she delivered the parcel, the sooner she could get the hell out of the place.
If John asked her to come back here, she’d refuse.
Her stomach clenched. Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t refuse John. She remembered what his punishments felt like in the form of bruises and broken bones.
Maybe one day he’d be so angry with her that he would end her life with a silver bullet to the skull. At least it would end her misery.
She stepped up the bar and placed the large envelope on the counter. She met the gaze of the bartender. His narrowed gaze tracked down her face, past her chest to her hand resting on top of the envelope. His eyes widened, just as she’d known they would. He’d seen the insignia ring letting every werewolf know she was the wife and mate of John McGregor, the son-in-law of Edward Boudier.
To the werewolf population, she was untouchable.
“Would you care for a beer, Mrs. McGregor?” The bartender blinked several times and took a step back from the counter, wringing the bar towel in his hands.
It was almost comical how frightened he was of her.
If only he knew the truth: that she herself didn’t wield any power. And if something happened to her, John probably wouldn’t give two shits. He’d just move on to the next female he set his sights on.
She had once thought that protection was found in her last name.
Now she was beginning to doubt even that would be enough.
She should be heading back. But she wanted to enjoy a few minutes of freedom away from John. One drink wouldn’t hurt.
“Do you have Chardonnay?” She glanced at the barstool, making sure it was clean before easing onto it.
He frowned and then caught himself. “Sorry, no. But I have some wine coolers.”
“Beer is fine.” She didn’t normally drink beer. Maybe a glass of wine every few weeks, and only when she knew her husband would be out of town on business. Otherwise she didn’t drink. She needed to be alert and on her guard around John.
“Thank you.” She slid him a twenty.
“No, it’s on the house.” The bartender waved her away.
She nodded and stuck the bill back in her leather purse. She lifted the cold bottle and pressed it to the insides of her wrists before taking a drink.
The bitter brew on her tongue sent her back a million years ago. Back when she was young and without a care in the world. Back when nothing could ever go wrong.
Back to a time she was happy.
* * *
Jaxon’s gaze slid across the room to the woman who walked through the door. Her face was hidden from his view by the short silky blonde hair that curtained her face. He started to turn his attention back to Ella, but something about the stranger held his attention.
“She’s way outta your league, wolf.” Ella leaned in and sneered.
“What do you know about it?” He lifted his eyebrow, but didn’t look away from the blonde at the bar. He usually stayed away from blondes. They were nothing but trouble. But he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. “Do you know her?”
“Nope. I don’t have many friends, and I sure as shit don’t have women friends,” Ella said defiantly.
“Maybe you should try to be nicer.” He glanced at Ella and then back at the stranger, who was now sitting at the bar.
“I’m nice. I am. Who said I wasn’t nice?” Ella crossed her arms. “It was Catty, wasn’t it?” she huffed. “Jesus, it wasn’t like I killed her.”
“You stabbed her through the chest and left her pinned to a tree. Face it, you’re not exactly a girls’ girl.” Jaxon glared.
Ella rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. It didn’t kill her. She’s a werewolf—I knew she wasn’t going to die. Besides, I needed to get out of that hellhole.”
“Which brings us back to why I’m here. I have to take you back.” Jaxon reluctantly looked away from the stranger and back at Ella.
“You don’t understand what it’s like to be held prisoner in a place you hate. To lose everything you know and love and be expected to just accept that it’s the way things are.”
His chest tightened.
He knew that better than anyone.
“I’m here doing my job. Nothing personal.” He held up his hands. He glanced over at the stranger at the bar, who was now picking up a beer.
There was something oddly familiar about her. Something so familiar it was wildly distracting. He shook his head and looked back at Ella.
“Not personal? Right. You Guardians don’t know a thing about me. Yet you judge me. Believe me, it’s personal.” A hardness settled across her beautiful features. She truly looked like the evil witch he was here to capture.
Jaxon sighed. “I do know there have been fifteen deaths since your escape, and they all happen in places you’ve been spotted.”
“I’ve not killed anyone. There’s no proof.” She narrowed her eyes and propped her hands on her hips. “You’re not going to pin those deaths on me.”
“Look…” he started to respond, but the woman at the bar made a familiar motion that caught his eye.
He held his breath. It couldn’t be.
She tucked her hair behind her left ear, ran her hand behind her neck, and then rubbed her left shoulder like it ached.
It couldn’t be.
Buzzing noise filled his ears. His gut clenched.
If he were standing behind her, he would see the spot on her shoulder that she rubbed, the scar she’d gotten when she’d gone to the beach and fallen on a seashell. A scar that had gotten immersed in salt water and hadn’t vanished despite her werewolf blood.
It was her. It was Ginny.
The second her name popped in his head, she turned in his direction as if sensing him in the room.
Their gazes locked. Shock registered on her face. They both went perfectly still.
“Fuck.” The curse slipped past his lips out into the dingy bar, where it was eaten up by the noise of the jukebox and the mumble of conversations.
He wanted to go to her, to pull her into his arms, to scream and ask her why she did what she did. But in the end, he still had his pride. He did the only thing he could think of.
He wanted to hurt her back for all the pain she’d caused him.
He grabbed Ella around the waist and pulled her against his chest. She struggled for a second or two until she realized his intention.
“Well, it’s about time, wolf.” She purred as she ran her hands up his chest and locked her fingers around his neck.
He narrowed his gaze on Ginny, wanting her to feel a fraction of the pain that she had caused him every single day of his life since their wedding day. He wanted her to suffer as he had suffered. He wanted her to know how it felt.
He held Ginny’s gaze and smirked.
Chapter Two
Jaxon bent his head and covered Ella’s mouth with his. The witch eagerly rubbed herself against his body and kissed him back with an urgency he didn’t feel.
Ginny’s mouth dropped open and she covered her parted lips with her hand.
The unmistakable streak of shock and hurt flashed through her blue eyes.
His stomach bottomed. Revenge hadn’t seemed so sweet after all. It only made him sick to his stomach.
Ginny fumbled on the bar for her purse before she snatched it up. She hurried to the door, her high heels clacking against the old wood floor.
She dabbed the corner of her eye discreetly before reaching for the door handle.
She jerked the door open and hurried out.
Shit.
He’d made Ginny cry.
He tried to shove Ella away, but she opened her mouth and bit down hard on his lip. He held her at arm’s length. He wiped his mouth and looked at the smear of blood on the back of his hand.
“You fucking bit me.”
Ella smirked. “What’s wrong, wolf? Your woman didn’t like that act you put on for her?”
He jerked his head at her and narrowed his gaze.
“Did you really think I thought that kiss was for real?” She arched her brow. “I’ve kissed better shifters than you. I can tell when a guy is faking.” She crossed her arms and let out a loud sigh. “So are you going to just stand there, or are you going to go after her?”
“You stay here.” He pointed his finger at her and snarled.
“Where would I go?” She gave him an innocent look as she held her arms up. She shook her head and then turned her attention back to the jukebox.
There was nothing innocent about that witch. He stuck his hands in his jeans pockets. His fingers brushed against the metal keys.
He’d taken advantage of the kiss and pocketed her car keys from her jeans pocket when she’d kissed him. She wouldn’t get far.
He jogged to the door and stepped outside into the heat. He scanned the parking lot for Ginny.
Judging by the expensive white pantsuit she was wearing, he bet she was driving a luxury car.
His gaze locked on a black Mercedes parked off to the side. It stood out, an expensive car among the handful of Harleys and trucks sitting in the parking lot.
The engine purred to life, and his heart jumped in his throat.
She was leaving.
He took off at a run, his hands clenched in a tight grip. Part of him knew he was opening a painful can of worms by even engaging with her. He knew he should just let her go. Hell, she’d let him go years ago.
But then there was another voice, a voice in his head. That voice needed answers. He needed closure.
She looked over the steering wheel, her familiar blue eyes wide with surprise and hurt and fear. Emotions he’d never seen her wear before.
He opened the door and peered down at her.
“What are you doing here?” Her voice quivered, and her fingertips shook slightly against the wheel.
“I could ask you the same thing, Ginny.”
She looked away. Her perfectly manicured fingers white-knuckled the steering wheel.
When she looked back at him, she’d slid a mask of indifference over her expression.
“I’m here on business. For my husband.”
A gunshot to the gut would have felt better than those last three words.
He let go of the door and stepped back a foot, trying to regain his breathing.
She’d literally knocked the breath out of his lungs without ever laying a hand on him.
“Husband. I didn’t know you were married.” He spat the words out. Bitterness lingered on his tongue.
“No one did.” She gathered her hands in his lap and looked down. “Jaxon, why are you here?”
“I’m here on business as well.” He wanted to tell her he was an Arkansas Guardian now, one of the elite werewolf solders who guarded civilian Weres of the state. He was a protector, a defender, a fighter.
“No, that’s not what I meant.” She licked her lips. “I mean, why did you follow me out here?”
“Answers.” He kept his tone cool, neutral. He didn’t want her to see how badly she’d affected him. He still wanted to hurt her. He wanted to hurt her as much as she’d hurt him.
“I’ve got to go.” She averted her gaze as she reached for the door. Her hand trembled as she grabbed the handle.
She was leaving.
He grabbed the door, preventing her from shutting it.
“Not yet,” he said. “Our conversation is not finished.”
“You don’t understand.” Her nervous gaze flitted around the parking lot. She turned and looked over her shoulder.
“No, you don’t understand. You’re not leaving until I have some answers. You owe me that much.” He narrowed his eyes.
She jerked her head in his direction. “Owe you? Are you kidding me? What about that girl I just saw you kissing? You certainly got over me, so don’t even act like you’re still hurt. I know your type, Jaxon Taylor. You’ve had quite a lot of females in your bed since me.”
His gut twisted. “How do you know? Have you been keeping tabs on me?”
“Not me. Someone else.” She shook her head and waved him away. “Just go back inside to your redhead.”
“She’s not my…” He caught himself. He’d almost given himself away. Then he smiled. “No, you’re not getting rid of me that fast. We have unfinished business, you and I. I have a lot of questions. Questions that only you can answer.”
“Jaxon, I don’t have time for this.” She tried to tug the door toward her, but he held on tight.
“Seems like you don’t have time for things that make you uncomfortable.” His eyes roamed over the rich leather and the top-of-the-line navigation system in her car. “Not quite sure why you even bothered coming out here. This atmosphere doesn’t seem like it fits you anymore.” His gut tightened. “You don’t live around here, do you?”
Had she been in Arkansas all this time and he’d never found her? Had fate been that big of a bitch to keep her under his nose while he nursed his heart and soul?
Her eyes widened and then narrowed. “I left Arkansas a long time ago.”
Pain flashed behind her eyes.
“I’ve got to go.” She pressed the engine button.
His eyes landed on the key fob sitting on the console. He reached in and grabbed it.
“What are you doing, Jaxon?” She jerked her head in his direction and glared at him.
His heart tugged at the sound of his name on her lips.
He shook his head. He wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t going to let her get away without having that discussion with him. He needed to know.
“I’m taking away your leverage.” He sneered and stuck the key fob in the front pocket of his jeans pocket. “I’m betting you won’t get far.” He scratched his cheek. “Actually, I’ve always wondered how far a car will go without the key fob. So why don’t you try to drive away and see where you end up?”
“You’re an asshole,” she hissed and climbed out of the car. She fisted her hands at her sides while pressing her lips into an angry line. He bet his life her beautiful blue eyes were shooting daggers at him behind her expensive shades.
“And you, my dear, are…”
Yells erupted behind the closed door of the bar. Jaxon turned just as the door flew open and men came running out like ants.
“Shit.” It had to be Ella.
Jaxon ran for the door. He stepped inside and looked around. The place was completely empty. He scanned the area and inhaled. Danger and the unmistakable scent of blood hung heavy in the smoky air.
His eyes landed on a pool of blood by the bar.
“What the hell happened?” Ginny stopped behind him.
“Go back outside.” He scanned the room for any movement or any sign of Ella.
“Jaxon, why is there blood on the floor?” Ginny’s voice cracked on the word blood.
“Ginny, please go back outside.” He pulled her key fob out of his pocket and held it out to her.
She shoved her sunglasses on top of her head and shook her head. Something flickered through her eyes.
She was afraid. Something tugged at his heart.
“Fine. But stay close.” He sighed, stuffed the key fob back into his pocket, and walked over to the pool of blood.
“What’s this about?” she whispered from behind him.
“I’m going to guess that pretty little witch did this.” He walked behind the bar and stopped.
“Your girlfriend is a witch?” Ginny jerked her head towards him.
“She’s not my girlfriend.” He glared and then looked back at the floor behind the bar.
Gary l
ay behind the counter, blood pouring out from a single gunshot wound to the head. Ella was nowhere in sight.
“Son of a bitch.” He stood. He reached in the back of his jeans and pulled out his nine millimeter. He wasn’t sure if a bullet would even hurt Ella since she was a witch with a curse. But a gun was better than nothing.
“Stay here.” He shot Ginny a warning glare. He eased his way to the door leading to the back room of the bar. The door was cracked open.
Keeping his gun, he pushed the door open with his free hand.
“Jaxon,” Ginny whispered.
“Shush.” He kept his gaze trained on the dark room. Why the hell didn’t Ginny listen when he told her to keep quiet? Jesus. It was enough to make him want to throttle her.
He strained to hear any noises coming out of that room. But it was silent.
His eyes dilated and adjusted to the dark. He scanned the room, searching for movement.
He eased into the room and flipped the wall switch. A beat-up couch and a desk sat off to the side. He saw a filing cabinet and a few boxes of beers, but other than that, the room was empty.
“How the hell did she get away? There’s no back door,” he muttered.
“I didn’t think you would be so worried about your girlfriend getting away. Never seemed to bother you before,” she muttered.
He turned, anger running through his veins. If she wanted to hurt him, she’d definitely found her mark.
“What do you know about it anyway? You didn’t stick around to find out what kind of male I am,” he snapped.
She flinched at his angry words. He felt the guilt for a second before reminding himself exactly who Ginny McGregor was.
To him, she was a total stranger.
To him, she was someone who had lied to him to get his guard down so she could steal his heart and then crush it under her heel.
To him, she was his worst enemy.
“I’m leaving. My key, please.” She lifted her chin and held out her palm.
His eyes drifted down over her expensive clothes and manicured nails.
“Late for a massage? Or maybe it’s your pedicure?” He dragged his eyes up to her face. “Looks like you don’t like to get your hands dirty anymore. You’re definitely not the Ginny I once knew.”