by Kim Fox
“Goodnight, Grant.”
Chapter Six
Amélie
Amélie wasn’t about to give up her mission because some guy had given her a sandwich and a pillow to sleep on.
“Come on,” she whispered as she furiously rubbed the chunk of bedspring onto the metal frame, trying to sharpen it. While Grant was in the shower, she had reached under the bed and managed to rip a piece of the bedspring off and now she was busy sharpening it into a makeshift shiv.
When the water stopped, she tested her new weapon with her finger and took a deep breath. It was sharp. Sharp enough to plunge into his skin and that’s exactly what she was planning on doing with it.
She’d get the key to these damn handcuffs that wouldn’t break and then find that girl with the wand and take it from her. She was already planning her getaway after that.
She’d phase into her panther, put the wand in her mouth, and sprint over the mountains as fast as she could for as long as she could. Her cat was fast and could probably outrun and outmaneuver these lions, especially if getting caught meant… well, her panther was just going to have to outrun them. There was no other option.
Grant stepped out of the shower and Amélie listened closely while he got ready, opening cupboards and brushing his teeth.
He popped his head into the room when he was done, but Amélie just closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep until he disappeared into the kitchen.
She waited, hiding her shiv under the blanket as he opened drawers and clunked and clanked around with pots and pans.
What is he doing in there?
As she waited, she couldn’t help picture herself in that same room under a different set of circumstances: Lying in his soft bed after a long passionate night of lovemaking, waiting half-asleep as he made her breakfast in bed.
Grant did seem like the perfect guy to spend a long weekend away in the mountains with. Amélie had seen him naked the day before and she still couldn’t get the image out of her mind.
He was hot and seemed like a nice guy, but she wasn’t in the market for either. Maybe in another life…
All she had the energy to focus on was keeping her family alive. What was left of them.
He finished rummaging around the kitchen and came walking down the hall. Amélie dropped her head onto the pillow, squeezing the shiv in her hand as he walked into the room.
She peeked and saw that he was carrying a tray full of food. Eggs, bacon, toast, coffee, orange juice, and there was even a freshly picked flower on the tray. She was touched. No one had ever made and brought her breakfast like this before. He wasn’t just hot and nice, he was sweet too.
Grant bent down in front of her, quietly as not to wake her, to place the tray beside her head. Right before he put it down, Amélie kicked the tray, slamming the plate of eggs into his face along with everything else.
Coffee and OJ flew everywhere as she sprang to her feet and thrust the shiv into his torso, sliding it between his ribs.
“Aaaagggh!” he cried out, turning to her in shock.
His hand grabbed her’s as she dug in the shiv, spilling hot blood on her hand.
“Wha—?”
Amélie didn’t let him finish. She jumped up and caught his head between her thighs, squeezing hard as she brought him down to the ground.
He tried to peel her legs off, but Amélie’s legs were strong and she was gripping his neck in a desperate hold, choking him.
“Release me,” she said, squeezing even harder.
His face started to turn a bright red. He grabbed a hold of her muscular legs and tried to pry them off, but Amélie squeezed tighter.
“Release me!” she shouted again as he started to turn blue.
Grant placed his hands on her inner thighs and this time he wasn’t messing around. Amélie’s stomach dropped when she felt the alpha’s true power. He pulled her legs open, uncoiling them from around his neck, and took a deep breath.
“Come on,” he said as the color started to return to his face. “Can we have a cup of coffee before we start this shit?”
He tossed her legs down and sat down on the bed, clutching the hole in his torso. He winced as he pulled his hand away that was dripping in blood. The poor guy was drenched in coffee with egg yolk dripping from his hair.
Amélie spotted the bloody shiv that was laying on the ground and snatched it up, holding it between them like a sword.
“Give me the key,” she ordered.
“Or what? You’re going to stab me again?”
“Yes!”
“Where the hell did you even get that thing?” Grant looked around and frowned when he saw the stuffing of the mattress on the ground. “That was a new mattress. Thanks a lot.”
Amélie glanced at the door, expecting his friends to rush in at any moment. She had to make a quick getaway if she was going to escape with her life.
“I want the key. Now!”
He just shook his head. “There is no key.”
“Don’t play games with me,” she snapped back. “I’ve had a hell of a year and I’m not in the mood.”
Grant pulled up his t-shirt, showing off his abs as well as the bloody shiv hole that was starting to heal. He winced as he touched it.
“I told you, there is no key. It takes a spell to open those cuffs.”
“Then say it,” she said, squeezing the shiv even tighter. She had one eye on his stomach and one on the door. “Quick, before your friends come rushing in.”
“They’re not going to come in,” he said softly. “I told them not too.”
“Grant?” a voice called out from outside. “Need some backup?”
“Stay outside,” he said, sounding frustrated. “I’m fine.”
“He’s not fine!” Amélie shouted. “I have a knife to his throat and I’m going to slice it unless someone opens these cuffs immediately!”
“Okay,” the voice said, not sounding too concerned. “Just try not to get blood all over the room. If he dies, I become alpha and get the big cabin.”
“Thanks, Ryder,” Grant said chuckling as he shook his head.
Amélie slumped down to the floor, feeling defeated. She looked at the broken plates and glasses all around her and sighed. There was orange juice soaked into the carpet and egg yolk stuck to the walls. Her stomach growled as she looked at all of the wasted food around her.
“Hungry?” he asked as he scooped a chunk of egg yolk from his hair. He looked at it and then wiped it onto his bloody shirt. It was already ruined anyway.
Amélie grabbed the toast that had landed on the night table and started eating it. This guy would probably let her starve after what she’d done.
“If I make you another breakfast are you going to throw it in my face again?” he asked, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.
Amélie lowered her head and sighed. “No.”
She was stuck here for a while and fighting these guys wasn’t going to work. She was outnumbered at least six to one and Grant was way stronger than her.
Besides, he seemed nice enough and didn’t deserve to have his nice deeds thrown back in his face, or in his hair.
“I guess I have to take another shower,” he said as he scooped another chunk of egg yolk out of his hair.
He looked so ridiculous that Amélie couldn’t help but giggle. He had yellow yolk dripping off his earlobe onto his shoulder.
Grant looked at her in surprise and then started laughing too.
“I’ve never had a visitor quite like you,” he said, shaking his head. “Be nice and I’ll be nice. Okay? Be… like that again and I’ll stick you in Mack’s cabin. Got that?”
Amélie nodded. She’d much rather be with him than stuck with that huge lion shifter who looked awfully mean.
Grant reached out his hand and raised an eyebrow.
Amélie’s chest tightened as she squeezed the shiv in her hand. She didn’t want to give up her weapon, but she didn’t have much of a choice. Besides, it’s not like she was goi
ng to get through five lion shifters and whatever the hell that girl was with only a shiv.
She reluctantly handed it over.
“Thank you,” Grant said as he stood up. The wound in his ribs seemed to have been mostly healed already. “I’ll go shower, again. And make some more eggs, again.”
“And coffee?” she asked, giving him a hint of a smile.
He nodded, smiling back. “And coffee.”
For a prisoner, this wasn’t so bad. Amélie was sitting at the kitchen table eating a tasty breakfast after just having a hot shower. Grant had got her some clothes from the girl with the wand who she learned was named Tempest. Comfy black leggings and a loose shirt that fell over her shoulder, exposing it.
“Why are there buttons on the side?” she asked as she touched the white buttons. The shirt was cut on the right side from the bottom to the sleeve with a row of buttons sewed on. It was a little strange.
“Long story,” Grant said with a chuckle. He was sitting across from her at the table, cupping his steaming mug in his big hands. “How’s the bacon?”
“Crispy,” she said as she bit into it. “Just how I like it.”
He smiled as he took a sip of his coffee. Amélie watched him, admiring the smooth line of his jaw and the way his light golden eyes were shining with the sunlight coming in through the window.
Stop. He’s your enemy. Remember that.
“I like your accent,” he said, eyeing her back. “France?”
“Quebec,” she said, shaking her head.
“What brings you to Montana?”
A psychopath.
“I was on vacation,” she hesitantly answered.
“And you decided to stay?”
“Something like that.”
They sat in silence for a moment as she took a few bites.
“I like your tattoo,” he said, glancing at her shoulder.
Amélie pulled the shirt up, hiding her shoulder. She had forgotten the tattoo was exposed. It was of four little birds flying away. It symbolized what she was fighting for. One for her, her sister Elodie, and her mother and father. She got it a year ago to remind her that one day, they would all be free.
The largest bird was her father. He was dead now, but she still included him in the tattoo because she knew he was watching over them and could only rest in peace once he knew they were free.
“Do the birds mean anything?” he asked.
Amélie looked down at her plate, not wanting to tell this stranger anything so personal. “No,” she said in a soft voice. “They’re just birds.”
“Well, they’re beautiful,” he said. “Look, Amélie,” he said after a hesitant pause. “I’m getting the feeling that you’re not working for General Hunt because you want to.”
Amélie kept her eyes locked on the empty plate of food in front of her, not moving an inch.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked, trying to get her to speak.
The less this guy knew, the better. All Amélie wanted to do was get that damn red wand and bring it to the address that the General had given her to free her mother and sister.
And this guy, as nice as he pretended to be, wasn’t going to help her do any of that. It was best to keep him in the dark.
“Okay,” he said when it was clear that Amélie wasn’t going to talk. “You can tell me when you’re ready.”
She had nothing to say so she just stared at her plate.
“It’s a beautiful day out there,” he said, standing up. “Want to go for a walk? I’ll show you around the ranch.”
She looked up at him in surprise. She was expecting to be locked in some dank basement or a sweltering shed somewhere. Some fresh air did sound nice.
The handcuff was still locked to her wrist and Grant held the chain as they walked outside. The sun was nice and warm on her face and shoulder as the soothing morning breeze tickled her blonde hair.
He showed her the different cabins and then the main storefront for his bounty hunter business. She found it cute how he blushed in embarrassment as he quickly tried to clean it up.
“It’s usually not so messy,” he said, cringing as he picked up a crushed beer can off the ground and tossed it into the already full recycling bin. Amélie smiled as she looked at the brown plant in the corner that looked a little thirsty. This place definitely needed a woman’s touch.
He told her how the ranch had been in his family for hundreds of years, since the original pioneers first claimed it. She listened with interest as he talked about his grandfather and how he passed down the bounty hunter business to him and his cousin Ryder.
“And this is the pool,” he said as they walked around to the back.
The guys were hanging around the pool, looking like it was going to be a lazy afternoon. Grant pointed each of them out, telling her their names. The teenage kid named Bryce was sleeping on a huge pink flamingo floaty that was slowly drifting along the pool. Logan was lying on a pool chair, singing under his breath as he strummed the strings of his guitar. Ryder and Tempest were flirting at the bar, and Mack was charging over with a hard look in his eyes.
“Who was that guy I was fighting?” he asked when he arrived.
“Which one?” Amélie said. There were a lot of bodies flying around yesterday. She wasn’t sure who she had fought, let alone anyone else.
“The big one,” Mack said, looking all amped up. “Grizzly bear shifter.”
Amélie swallowed hard. “That’s Hardy.”
“Hardy,” he whispered under his breath. His eyes lit up as he said it again. “If you see him before I do, tell him he’s a dead man.”
“I will not,” she said, straightening her back. “He’s a good man and my friend.”
Mack laughed. “Then maybe I should kill you too.”
Grant stepped forward and put a hand on Mack’s chest, pushing him back. “You won’t touch her,” he growled.
Amélie and Mack both jerked their heads back in surprise. “That’s an order,” Grant said in a voice that was half snarl. “She’s my guest and I don’t want anyone’s hands on her. Got that?”
Mack’s cold eyes narrowed on him, but he nodded.
“Hardy has suffered too,” Amélie said. “Maybe one day you’ll be on the same side.”
Mack’s fierce eyes darted onto her. “I’d rather die than be on his side.”
He stormed away and the tightness in Grant’s body spilled out once the angry lion shifter was out of view. “So, that’s Mack,” he said in a weary tone. “He’s an acquired taste.”
Tempest and Ryder both straightened when they approached the bar. They had an uneasy look in their eyes as Amélie sat down. She didn’t blame them. Not only was she chained up like a wild animal, but that’s exactly what she had fought like yesterday. She had been so eager to get that red wand that she had fought like a feral beast.
“Thanks for lending me some clothes,” Amélie said as she looked at the girl with the brown wavy hair and thick eyebrows.
“Please don’t phase in them,” Tempest answered. “My wardrobe is a little sparse right now.”
“I won’t,” Amélie promised. “I liked your fighting outfit.”
“Her what?” Ryder asked with a laugh.
“Yeah, my what?” Tempest said, looking confused.
“Weren’t you wearing a fighting outfit yesterday?” Amélie asked. “The lacy black one.”
“That’s her fucking outfit, not her fighting outfit,” Logan said from the chair.
Ryder picked up a coaster and threw it at him.
“Oh,” Amélie said, feeling her cheeks blush. “Sorry, it looked like a superhero outfit or something like that.”
“Really?” Tempest said, her face lighting up. “It really looked like a superhero costume?”
“You’re not wearing that to the next job,” Ryder said, looking drained.
Tempest’s cheeks turned red as she looked at him. “I totally wasn’t thinking that.”
“Sure,” Ryde
r said, rolling his eyes with a laugh.
Amélie couldn’t help but laugh too.
They spent another hour or two sitting around and talking. Amélie stayed mostly silent, except for the occasional laugh, while they joked around and teased each other. She kept noticing Grant looking at her and that’s when she had devised a new plan.
She had seven days to get the wand and bring it to the facility that General Hunt had provided.
Escaping was the only option, but that would be easier if she made friends with her captors. Grant seemed to like her and she was going to use that against him. She was going to use her charm to flirt with him, earn his trust and get his guard down.
Then, she would strike.
Chapter Seven
Grant
“What do you want to do today?” Grant asked.
“You mean besides getting my freedom back?” Amélie answered with a grin.
Grant sucked in a breath. “Yeah. Besides that.”
The past twenty-four hours had actually gone pretty well. Amélie was no longer the fierce psycho cat that she was when she had first arrived. She was starting to lighten up and joke around with everyone. Grant was even starting to think that she was becoming his friend.
Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not her friend.
Friends didn’t keep each other chained up. Friends didn’t keep each other prisoner. He knew there was something up with her, something she just wasn’t telling him, but he still couldn’t get it out of her.
She was talkative and playful, even flirtatious in some moments, but whenever he asked her about herself, she closed up real fast.
“What do you guys normally do around here besides floating in the pool and drinking until you pass out?” she asked as she sipped her coffee at the kitchen table. “Or, is that all you do?”
“It’s not all we do,” Grant said with a laugh. “We’re bounty hunters. We also try to catch bad guys on occasion.”
“So, let’s do that,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I’d like to see these famous bounty hunters in action.”