Bounty Hunter- Grant

by Kim Fox

  She couldn’t start thinking of him like that. Or at all. He was an obstacle in her path and that was all. Amélie knew that she might have to kill him to get the stick. Her mother and sister’s lives were on the line and she wouldn’t hesitate to do it. She couldn’t hesitate.

  She hoped it didn’t come to that, but she was aware that it was a possibility and these feelings she was having for the man were starting to get dangerous.

  The crew of grizzly bears were gone, which was a good thing. She didn’t know where they had come from or how long it would take for them to return, but she wasn’t planning on staying long enough to find out.

  Another long hour had passed, then another. The only notable thing that happened was she was spotted… by a fat orange cat.

  She started to panic as it approached, swaying from side to side like it was a balancing act to hold up all of that blubber on his four little legs.

  “Ostie,” she cursed as it approached, parting the long grass that she was hiding in like a shark cutting through the water. A fat slow shark.

  He walked right up to her and meowed in her face.

  “Va t’en!!” she said, waving him away in a panic. “Beat it!”

  The cat opened its mouth and let out a huge yawn. He dropped to his side and rolled onto his back, swatting his paws in the air like he wanted a belly rub.

  “Fine,” Amélie said as she dug her fingers into the cat’s fur and started to scratch his fat belly. “Is that what you want?”

  The cat closed his eyes and purred happily, making Amélie laugh. “What kind of guard cat are you?”

  The orange cat quickly fell asleep, but Amélie kept petting him. It was nice to have some company.

  Later on in the night, after the sun set and the cat left to get his dinner, Amélie was watching the guys closely. They were hanging by the lit-up pool, drinking beers and laughing as they talked. There was some music on that Amélie didn’t recognize but she liked. She even caught herself tapping her fingers to the beat a few times.

  The big mean-looking guy who had been fighting Hardy was cooking something on the barbecue that had Amélie’s stomach groaning. She was so hungry and thirsty, and it was pure torture to watch them as they ate by the pool. She chewed on some grass to try and take some of the hunger away, but it just made it worse.

  Her eyes kept falling back on the man with the shaved head. They were drawn to him like magnets, always following him, always searching him out.

  They looked like they were having fun as they hung out and it made Amélie’s heart ache. She hadn’t realized how much she missed that part of life. Friendship, gossiping, drinks, music, fun. It had been two years since she had been in a pool, about the same since she’d been to a party.

  As she watched, she felt the true weight of her loneliness weighing her down. If only her father hadn’t gotten that bonus and treated them to a Vegas trip…

  She sighed. How many times had she thought that over the past year and a half? Too many to count. What was done was done. There was no going back. Her father wasn’t coming back and that life was long gone.

  She took a deep breath and steeled her wavering emotions as the guys started heading to bed. This was her life now and it didn’t involve fun and parties.

  It involved violence and death.

  She watched closely as they all disappeared into their cabins. The girl who was dressed like a slutty superhero in her black lingerie that morning disappeared into a cabin with the guy covered in tattoos. They all went into their cabins, except for the guy with the shaved head.

  He hung back, sipping on a drink as he slowly turned off the lights. The large bar under the adorable Tiki hut plunged into darkness when he hit a switch.

  She never took her eyes off him as he slowly walked to the pool, looking around and taking it all in. He had a sad look on his face as he surveyed the ranch like someone looking at their property for the last time before they moved, taking it all in for the last time.

  He walked to the wall, took a deep breath and hit the switch, shutting the pool lights off, which turned the whole place dark.

  Amélie watched the broad outline of his muscular frame as he looked up at the blazing stars for a minute and then turned to head inside.

  She kept returning to that sad image of him looking at his ranch over the next two hours. She didn’t know why she felt bad for him, but she did.

  “It’s time,” she finally whispered to herself when she was sure that everyone was asleep. With a deep breath, she quietly climbed to her feet and approached the man’s cabin.

  Chapter Five

  Grant

  Grant stirred in his sleep. He had been thinking of that girl all day, and as soon as he closed his eyes he started dreaming about her.

  They were back on the ranch like they were this morning when that grizzly bear shifter’s big arms were wrapped around her. Only this time, it was Grant’s arms wrapped around her. He held her naked body to his as her tears dripped onto his forearms. There was also the leader singer of Blink 182 singing behind him and a purple raccoon humping his leg—it was a pretty fucked up dream.

  His lion started to stir within him as he remembered her sexy scent so vividly it was like she was in the room with him. His lion paced and circled until Grant’s eyes slowly opened.

  They darted to the side when he saw someone rummaging through his dresser. It was the girl from that morning. He could recognize her wavy hair and slim athletic body anywhere, not to mention that delicious smell that was tickling his nostrils and driving him crazy.

  He slowly sat up as he watched her searching frantically for something. She moved fast as she looked through his folded clothes, but she was completely silent, moving like a ninja.

  His inner lion wasn’t liking it one bit and was pacing around inside, snarling and growling. Grant felt his chest rumble as the lion let out a roar. The sound was just a hint above audible, but she heard it.

  The girl whipped around, grabbed the lamp off the dresser, and brought it down on Grant’s head, smashing it to pieces in one fluid movement.

  “Fuck,” he grunted as the thick ceramic cut his scalp. He shook the daze out of his head just in time to see her leaping onto him in full attack mode.

  Not this again…

  This girl was vicious but he didn’t want to hurt her. He felt bad for her and wondered what her story was. Something in the way she looked, the way she was so desperate to get Tempest’s wand told him that she wasn’t acting on General Hunt’s behalf because she wanted to. He wondered what the General was holding over her head.

  She wrapped her hands around his throat as she landed on top of him, but Grant managed to use her momentum to roll to the side and throw her off.

  “What do you want?” he asked as he threw the blankets off his legs. He was only wearing his boxer briefs underneath. She was wearing Mack’s torn t-shirt he noticed. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had anything on underneath.

  He was pondering the tantalizing thought when she punched him in the mouth.

  “Will you stop?” he cried out as she jumped on him again. He turned his back to her and she landed on it, trying to wrap her arm around his throat.

  He grabbed her arm and lurched forward, swinging her over his shoulder and slamming her into the dresser.

  She spit a string of words out in French that Grant didn’t understand, but they all sounded like curse words.

  This girl was tough. He had to give her that. She was back on her feet with a fire in her eyes.

  “Where is it?” she hissed.

  Grant opened his arms. “What?” he asked, although he had an idea what she was looking for.

  “The red stick. I need it.” She had a sexy French accent that had Grant wanting to hear more. The sensuous way she rolled the words off her tongue made him swallow hard.

  “For what?”

  She grunted in frustration and attacked again. Grant could have landed a punch as she rushed in, but he stopped himse
lf. There was something about this girl, and it wasn’t just her pretty face that he didn’t want to ruin, it was her.

  He felt like he didn’t have the whole story with her, and he didn’t want to see her hurt.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t feel the same way about him. She landed four hard punches into his stomach with rapid succession and then finished it off with a blinding uppercut to his chin. As he stumbled back, she kicked him right in the throat, sending him flying into the wall and cracking the drywall.

  She came at him again, but this time he wasn’t going to be such an easy target. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he didn’t want to get killed either.

  Grant grabbed her arm and spun around, slamming her back against the wall. Her gorgeous gray eyes that had just the perfect hint of green in them widened as he held her there with one hand, his palm pressed against the top of her chest, pinning her.

  He raised his other hand and stuck our his index finger, letting the nail come. It was an old trick that he had learned from his grandfather.

  Grant held back his grin as he watched her shocked face. Her mouth dropped open as she stared at his finger as it transformed into a long black claw.

  “Ce n'est pas vrai…” she said in a gasp.

  Grant looked back to his finger that was now transformed into a thick black claw. He held it to her throat and narrowed his eyes on her. “Don’t. Move.”

  She swallowed hard as she stared back at him. Grant’s heart was pounding in his chest. From the adrenaline, from her, from everything.

  “Tempest!” he shouted as loud as he could. That would wake everyone up if they somehow managed to sleep through their little bedroom brawl.

  A few seconds later, they came bursting through the door. Mack was first, then Logan, then Tempest and Ryder. Bryce was probably still sleeping. That teenager was impossible to get out of bed.

  “Kill her,” Mack grunted. “Cut her throat.”

  Grant rolled his eyes as he turned back to him. “I’m not going to slit her throat.”

  “Yeah, good thinking. You’ll get blood all over your bed spread. Just strangle her then.”

  “That’s the crazy cunt from this morning,” Tempest said as she came in and turned the lights on. She didn’t have shifter vision like everyone else in the room and couldn’t really see in the dark.

  The girl wasn’t paying attention to any of it. Her eyes were closed and she was mumbling something in a panicked tone. Grant’s French was as rusty as his fleet of cars outside, but he still managed to catch a few words. Family. Danger. I’m sorry.

  Tears started leaking out of the corners of her closed eyes and Grant’s stomach dropped. “Why are you crying?” he whispered.

  She opened her watery eyes that looked even more beautiful drenched in shiny tears and shook her head, saying nothing.

  “Bring her outside,” Mack snapped. “I’ll do it.”

  “Enough,” Grant snapped. He didn’t want anyone to touch this girl but him. “Everybody out.”

  They all started to leave with a huff when he called Tempest over. “You still have those handcuffs?” he asked. “The famous ones?”

  Tempest grinned as she stared at the girl with vicious eyes. “I do.”

  “Go get them.”

  She rushed out of the room, leaving Grant alone with the girl.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer. She just stared back at him with a challenging look.

  “I’m Grant,” he said. “Grant Clayton. Maybe you already know that, maybe you don’t.”

  She licked her lips and dropped her eyes. “I’m Amélie,” she whispered back in her adorable French Canadian accent. “Amélie Fournier.”

  “And why are you here, Amélie?”

  She didn’t answer, but the look on her face when Tempest returned told him everything he needed to know. She was definitely after the wand. She couldn’t take her eyes off of it as Tempest walked over and handed him the handcuffs. It was sticking out of the bun that Tempest had just made in her hair.

  “Want me to help?” Tempest asked, looking eager to get her hands back on the girl now that her friends weren’t around.

  “No,” Grant said as he locked a handcuff around Amélie’s wrist. He wrapped the chain around the heavy metal bed frame and then locked the other handcuff onto her other wrist. “You can go back to bed. Tell Logan he’s on watch duty tonight. In case any of her friends come back to fetch her.”

  Tempest gave the girl one last scowl and then reluctantly left the cabin, leaving them alone.

  The handcuffs were absolutely unbreakable by physical force. They had all tried when Tempest and Ryder accidentally locked themselves together for a long interesting week. Grant didn’t have all of the details, but Tempest’s mother seemed to have been some sort of witch and had given Tempest a few toys, including the wand and these handcuffs that could only be opened with a spell.

  Amélie was sitting on the floor with Mack’s t-shirt draped over her legs. He couldn’t believe that he was actually jealous that she was wearing Mack’s t-shirt and not his.

  She wasn’t going anywhere now so he let his claw slide back into his finger. Amélie watched with a fascinated look on his face as he did it.

  “You ever seen that before?” he asked with a proud grin.

  She shook her head.

  “It’s an old trick that my Gramps taught me.”

  “How do you do it?”

  He laughed. “How about you tell me why you broke into my room in the middle of the night and I’ll tell you?”

  She closed her soft lips and turned away.

  “You’re not going to talk?”

  No answer.

  “If you’re not going to talk, do you want to eat? You must be hungry.”

  She didn’t respond, but Grant could see her eyebrows flicker up at the mention of food. She must have been starving if she was hiding around all day since the morning.

  “I’ll get you some food.”

  He threw on his robe and went into the kitchen, making a quick sandwich and pouring her a glass of water. At the last second, he grabbed two beers, one for her and one for him and then walked back into the room.

  He laughed when he saw her. She had her feet on the metal frame of the bed and was pulling the chain of the handcuffs as hard as she could, trying to snap it. Her face was red and so twisted up that she didn’t even hear him come in.

  She let go with a grunt and fell to the ground, breathing hard. Grant chuckled. “You’re wasting your energy. They’re not going to break.”

  “Everything breaks.”

  He smiled as he walked in with the food. “Not those.’

  “Are you hungry?” he asked as he sat down in front of her with the food. She didn’t say anything, but she was eyeing the sandwich with more ferocity than she had been eyeing Tempest’s wand.

  He picked up the sandwich and put it in her hand. Their fingers grazed against each other as she took it and Grant’s heart started beating a little faster.

  She leaned over and ripped into it, devouring it like she hadn’t eaten in days.

  “Thanks,” she said when she was done and he handed her the water. She chugged that too in one long gulp.

  He cracked open the beers and handed her one. “Do you want me to make you something else?”

  She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and shook her head.

  “Am I your prisoner?” she asked as Grant took a sip of his beer.

  “Are you going to try and kill me again if I let you go?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Then you’re my prisoner.”

  Grant couldn’t get over how beautiful this girl was up close. She had dirt and dried blood on her face, her blonde hair was a mess, and she was wearing Mack’s ratty old t-shirt, but she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  He knew what she was there for, but not why. After a while, he decided to just come out and ask her.

/>   “What do you want with the wand?”

  She jerked her head back. “What wand?”

  “The red wand. Jeez, you nearly bit my hand off trying to get it.”

  “That’s a wand?” she asked. The way she emphasized the W with her sexy accent was making him lightheaded. God, he could listen to her speak all day. “Like a magic wand?”

  “You don’t know what it is?” he asked.

  She swallowed hard as her eyes dropped to the empty plate sitting between them. “I know what it is,” she whispered. “It’s my family’s freedom. That’s what it is. Or, that’s what it was.”

  Grant leaned a little bit closer. “What do you mean?”

  She shook her head dismissively. “Never mind.”

  “What was that about your family? Are they in danger or something?”

  Amélie squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head tightly.

  “What do you care? You’re my enemy.”

  “I may be your enemy,” he whispered back. “But you’re not mine.”

  “Oh, really?” she said as she clinked the handcuff chain against the metal bed. “Do you always keep your friends chained up?”

  She had a point there, but he wasn’t about to let her go so that she could come back and slit his throat while he was sleeping and dreaming of her.

  “We’ll figure out what to do about that in the morning,” he said as he reached up and grabbed a pillow. He placed it by her head and got a soft blanket out of the closet in the hallway.

  “Are any of your friends planning on visiting tonight?”

  He wasn’t expecting an answer but he had to ask anyway. She just stared at the wall with a blank expression on her face as he turned off the light.

  He got back in bed, wishing she could crawl under the sheets beside him.

  “Goodnight, Amélie,” he said.

  It was a minute or two later before she answered.