by Kim Fox
“You’ve already seen that,” Grant said, raising an eyebrow.
“Right,” Amélie answered as her cheeks blushed. “But this time I’ll be on your side.”
Grant’s hand moved to the spot on his ribs where she shanked him. “Thank goodness for that.”
“Did I apologize for that yet?” she asked in a playful tone.
“Still waiting,” Grant said, staring at her.
She had a smile peeking out of the corner of her mouth as she shrugged and turned back to her cup.
Grant laughed as he walked over to the phone. He had a feeling that he’d be waiting a long time for any apology from this girl.
He picked up the phone and dialed Eddie, his bail bondsmen.
“Hey,” he said when Eddie answered. “Any good news today.”
“Great news!” Eddie said on the other end of the line. “I have a big mark for you. Chuck Wilson skipped out on his $20,000 bail. Your cut is 20% if you bring him in.”
Grant squeezed the phone in excitement. Twenty percent was $4,000 and he desperately needed that money.
“I haven’t told you the best part,” Eddie said. “I know where he is. Mr. Wilson has a bit of a gambling problem. He likes the horses so you should be able to find him down at the racetrack.”
He didn’t even have to track this guy down. $4,000 was great for a few hours of work.
“Where?” Grant asked, feeling his pulse start to race. “Don’t tell me it’s in Wyoming again…”
“Montana,” Eddie said. “Only about forty minutes for you. Should be an easy snatch and catch. I know you need the money so I saved him for you.”
“Thanks, Eddie,” Grant said. He took down all of the details, including his description, and then hung up the phone with his heart pounding in excitement. Grant wasn’t just excited for the money, he loved this job. There was nothing more exciting than the thrill of a good chase, the adrenaline dump of a fight, and the feeling of accomplishment of taking another criminal off of the streets.
But unfortunately, he had to sit this one out. He didn’t want to leave Amélie out of his sight and he couldn’t risk taking her with him. She was friendly now, but he knew that she would probably try to escape the first second she could.
He’d send Logan, Ryder, and Tempest out on this one, but when he went outside with Amélie to find them, they were gone.
“Where is everyone?” he asked Bryce who was staring at his cellphone.
“Logan is at band practice,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen. It drove Grant crazy that the kid wouldn’t even look up from his phone when talking to him. Kids these days showed their alphas no respect!
“And Ryder? T?”
Bryce shrugged. “I saw them go hiking about an hour ago.”
Shit. If they left an hour ago, they’d be far into the mountains by now and it would take Grant forever to find them and bring them back.
“What about Mack?”
Bryce frowned as he thumbed his phone. “I think he went to his dads. Or maybe he went to get some groceries.”
Grant crossed his arms as he stared down at the kid. He couldn’t send Bryce and everyone else was unavailable. This was too much money to turn down. He had to go and he had to take Amélie with him.
“When your alpha talks to you,” he said, snatching the phone out of Bryce’s hands. Bryce’s eyes widened in panic as his arms shot out. “You look him in the eyes. Got that?”
Bryce nodded quickly as he stared at him in pure panic.
“Good,” Grant said with a firm nod. He threw the phone as hard as he could and Bryce choked back a scream as he watched it fly through the air into the forest. “Glad we got that straightened up. I’m going out on a job. ”
“Am I coming?” Amélie asked in excitement as she followed him back to the cabin. One of her wrists was still handcuffed and Grant was holding the other end. Unfortunately, he still couldn’t fully trust her and had to keep her chained at all times. Last night, he had given her his bed while he slept on the couch in the living room, but he had chained her to the heavy metal bed frame.
“You’re coming,” Grant answered. “But I don’t want any funny business or I’ll be booking two people today. Got that?”
Amélie gave him a wicked smile as she nodded. “I got it.”
“Good.”
An hour later, they were driving to the racetrack. Grant had taken one of his grandfather’s old antique cars—a 1958 Ferrari 250 Testa Rossa in mustard yellow. It was a sleek old convertible that probably got his grandfather laid at least a dozen times. It looked like something James Bond would have driven back in its prime, only now it was over sixty years old and was home to a raccoon.
It scared the crap out of Grant as he yanked the tarp off of the car. The raccoon was lying in the driver’s seat and hissed at him, sending him jumping backward.
Amélie burst out laughing in the cutest fit of giggles that made it all worth it.
“Ah, poor little raton laveur,” she said in her adorable accent. Grant loved it when she peppered French words into her speech. He couldn’t get enough of it. “You’re taking his home.”
“It’s my car,” Grant said as he opened the door and shooed him out. “He can find a new home.”
Amélie smiled at the raccoon as he slunk away, looking pissed off. “Don’t worry, little man. We’ll have your home back in a few hours.”
They were about ten minutes from the racetrack when Amélie started talking. “I haven’t been to the racetrack in years,” she said. “My father used to take me and my sister when we were kids.”
Grant looked over at her. Her hands were clasped in her lap and she was staring down at them. She had a sad look on her face and her eyes were starting to water.
“Did he like to gamble?”
“No,” she said, smiling as she shook her head. “He took us so we could watch the horses. Elodie loved to watch them run and he would sit there with us for hours. I just liked being beside him.”
“He sounds like he was a nice man.”
“The best.”
Grant knew he shouldn’t ask, but he couldn’t help himself. He was desperate to know everything about this mysterious girl sitting beside him. “What happened to him?”
“He died.”
The silence lingered in the car as they drove down the quiet mountain road. Amélie rubbed the largest bird tattoo on her shoulder as she looked up at the sky, trying to fight back tears.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Grant said. He knew it wasn’t enough, but he had to say something. “I know what it feels like to lose a dad.”
“You lost yours?” she asked, turning to him.
“I never had one. He split when I was a kid and never looked back, but I did lose my Gramps. He was like a dad to me.”
“Was he a good man?”
Grant chuckled. “He was an interesting man,” he said as he rubbed his chin. “Let’s just put it at that. Gramps wasn’t exactly the best influence. Actually, he was a good example of what not to do.”
Amélie was still watching him closely. “It seems like he did a good job.”
She smiled when he turned and looked at her. “Thank you.”
“I’m sorry I stabbed you,” she said as she turned to look at the gorgeous mountains passing by. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, grinning at her. “I’ve had a lot worse.”
She gave him a sad smile. “So have I.”
He wanted to hear more, but the racetrack came into view in the distance. It was a long glass building with big metal columns.
Grant pulled into an empty parking space and they got out of the car.
“Are you just going to leave it like that with the top down?” Amélie asked, looking back at the car. “What if someone does something to it?”
“There was a raccoon sleeping in it an hour ago,” he said with a laugh. “I’m not too worried.”
They walked in and found a seat on
the benches as a horse race was about to start. Amélie still had the handcuff on her wrist, but they had been walking and sitting close together to hide it.
“We’re looking for a thirty-two-year-old white male,” Grant said, reading off the paper, “with a tattoo of handcuffs on his neck.”
Both him and Amélie looked around for their mark. It was a weekday morning so there weren’t too many people around, except for the hardcore gamblers and hopefully, their guy.
“There he is,” Amélie said, pointing a few rows up and to the side.
Grant spotted him immediately. It was impossible not too. He was waving his arms around and screaming at his horse as the race started.
He was a muscular guy with a thick neck that had the handcuffs tattooed on it. He also had a goatee and long hair just like Eddie had described.
“What’s the plan?” Amélie asked, watching him with a grin.
“You stay by my side and I’ll go and grab him.”
“That’s it?” she asked, not looking too impressed.
“That’s not enough?”
She shrugged. “It’s a little boring. I thought we were going to have a big plan.”
“Like what? Swing from the roof like Tarzan and grab him?”
She raised her eyebrows. “That would be a little more exciting.”
“We’re not here for exciting,” Grant said as he looked past her to the guy. “We’re here to make $4,000.”
“What’s my cut?” she asked.
“I’ll buy you a hot dog after,” he said, throwing her a bone. “If you don’t cause me any trouble.”
“And if I do?”
“Then you can eat a ketchup packet while you watch me eat lunch.”
She laughed as he got up and tugged the chain, pulling her up too. The man’s eyes were focused on the running horses as Grant and Amélie crept up behind him.
“No!” he screamed in fury as his horse fell behind. He threw his hands into the air and cursed as he turned around.
His eyes widened when he saw Grant staring at him. Don’t do it!
He did it.
The guy turned and started running down the stairs toward the racetrack and Grant took off after him, pulling Amélie along for the ride.
They sprinted down the stairs and the guy leapt over the wall and landed on the dirt track just as the horses were coming around the bend.
Amélie yanked the chain back as they arrived at the wall. “You’re not seriously going to—”
“You wanted excitement,” Grant said as he leapt over the wall, pulling her with him, “you got it!”
They landed with a thump on the dirt track and started racing after the guy. He reached the other end safely, but the horses rounded the corner right when Grant and Amélie were in the middle of the track.
Amélie jumped into his arms and he held her tightly as horses raced past them, dangerously close. A horse’s shoulder grazed Grant’s as he held the girl to his beating heart.
When the last straggler horse clopped past them, they separated for a few inches and looked each other in the eyes. They had never been this close without fighting and four thousand dollars or not, Grant didn’t want to let go.
Amélie swallowed hard as she looked up into his eyes. There was something in them that he hadn’t seen before, desire maybe? Whatever it was, he liked it.
“Hey!” someone shouted. Grant glanced to the side and saw two angry security guards climbing over the wall.
“We better move,” he said, reluctantly letting her go.
“Yeah,” she said, looking as disappointed as he was that the moment was over.
They ran in the direction of the guy and caught up with him at the horse stables. He was easy to catch once Grant got a hand on him. Grant simply twisted the man’s arm behind his back and escorted him back to the parking lot.
It was only when they got to the car that they ran into a problem.
“Oh, shit,” Grant said when he saw the car. How could he have been so stupid? Amélie must have been distracting him this morning. The convertible he picked was only a two-seater. How the hell was he supposed to bring the guy in now? He couldn’t exactly leave Amélie behind. If he did that, he might wake up with a knife to his throat.
Amélie started laughing when she saw the car. “I guess it doesn’t take a high IQ to become a bounty hunter.”
“You’re just going to have to ride in the trunk,” Grant said, yanking the guy forward.
“I’m not riding in no trunk!” the guy said, looking outraged.
“Yes, you are,” Grant said, popping it open. It was the smallest trunk ever. Barely enough room for a briefcase let alone a muscular ex-con.
“What’s the big plan now?” Amélie asked. She looked like she was loving every minute of this.
He was about to say that she could sit on the guy’s lap, but his lion growled. Come to think of it, he didn’t want Amélie sitting on anyone’s lap. Maybe his, but definitely not this guy’s.
“He can sit on your lap,” Grant said, compromising.
Amélie crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow as she glared at him. “No.”
Grant threw his arms up in frustration.
“Or, you can just let me go,” the guy said. “I’ll meet you at the police station. Promise.”
Grant rolled his eyes.
“Or, you can let me go,” Amélie added. “I’ll meet you back at the ranch. Promise.”
“You’re both coming in the car. With me.”
Amélie grinned. “And how are you going to make that work?”
Grant sighed. There was only one way he could think of this working.
Ten minutes later Amélie was in the driver’s seat with a big smile on her face as their mark sat on Grant’s lap.
He was just happy the guys weren’t here to see this. He would have never lived it down.
Chapter Eight
Grant
“I can’t do it!” Amélie said, huffing out a frustrated breath. “It just burns, but nothing comes out.”
Grant took her hand in his and looked at her index finger. “You have to focus all of your energy on the finger,” he said. “Imagine it turning into a claw and it will become one.”
She tried again, but her beautiful finger didn’t change one bit. He was showing her the trick with the claw that his Gramps had taught him. So far, it wasn’t working.
Her brow furrowed as she stared at her finger with the cutest look on her face. She was concentrating so hard, but not getting anywhere.
“Good,” he said, trying to encourage her. “Now slowly let your panther come, but only focus on your finger. It should feel like you’re poking your finger through plastic wrap. Concentrate to only let your finger go through.”
Her eyebrows squished together as she stared at her finger, looking determined to get it.
Grant watched her, silently encouraging her on. Let’s go, Amélie. You can do this.
They were sitting on Grant’s porch in the front of his cabin. It was a nice sunny summer day with a cool breeze that occasionally wound its way through the ranch and washed over them.
Grant never took his eyes off of her as she tried Gramps’ favorite trick.
The tip of her index finger flashed black for a split second and then she lost it. Her face lit up in the most beautiful smile as she looked up at him in shock.
“I never knew that was possible,” she said, looking thrilled. “It felt so weird.”
“How’s your cat?” Grant asked, smiling back at her.
Her eyes dropped to the counter as she took a couple of slow breaths. “I think she’s confused,” Amélie said with an adorable giggle. “She doesn’t know what’s happening.”
“Mine whined like a little kitten the first few times I did it,” Grant said, laughing at the memory. His inner lion didn’t know what the hell had happened. He was about to be let out and was then pushed away as he was about to bolt out the door.
They smiled at each other
as their eyes met. This had been happening a lot more over the past two days since they held each other at the racetrack. Long lingering stares where neither of them could seem to hide their smiles.
“Let me try again,” she said, taking a deep breath. She stuck her finger back out and concentrated hard on it while Grant concentrated hard on her.
His lion purred inside as he watched her. What are you doing? She’s our prisoner, remember?
But his lion didn’t really care. He seemed to have a bit of a crush on her, always purring happily when she was near and anxiously stirring within when she wasn’t.
A tiny gasp released from her sexy lips as her index finger slowly turned into a long black claw.
“You did it!” Grant said, clapping his hands together in excitement.
Amélie wasn’t smiling. She was slowly moving her hand around in front of her face, marveling in shock at the sharp black claw that was now a part of her hand.
“This is incredible,” she said, staring at it as Grant stared at her. “I don’t know why I would ever need to use this, but I’m glad I know it.”
Grant chuckled. “It comes in handy when you need to open a stubborn bag of chips.”
She smiled warmly as she looked at him. “I don’t know how to thank you. I’ll never have to pull on the bag really hard and then have chips explode all over my lap again.”
“One of the worst agonies of life,” Grant joked back.
“It was,” she said, dropping her eyes to the claw, “at one point in my life. I miss those days.”
Grant kept silent, hoping she’d elaborate, but she wasn’t there yet. In the four days they were together, she still hadn’t opened up about herself.
“So, how do I get my finger back?” she asked, closing the topic once again.
“You can’t,” he joked. “It’s stuck like that forever.”
“What if I painted it with some nail polish?” she asked, playing along. “Do you think it would blend in?”
Grant chuckled as he shook his head. “I think you better pull it back in. Just like you’d pull your panther back in. It’s the easy part.”
Amélie’s face creased with concentration and in a snap, the nail turned back into a beautiful pink finger.