by L. P. Maxa
“I couldn’t find you.” He jumped to his feet, his arms swinging wide. “I couldn’t fucking find you, Pen. I tried, baby. I tried so fucking hard.” He shook his head, his voice rising in frustration. “Why didn’t you come to me? I was all over the news in college. I broke records up and down the coast. You knew where I was, the whole world knew where I was.” Which was part of the reason he’d eased up on his searches. He thought she’d moved on, and knowing it for a fact would have shattered him beyond repair.
Even now, standing in front of her, he was terrified. He was afraid that she was going to tell him that she was happy. That she’d met someone and they had a house with a picket fence and kids.
She was it for him, but what if he was never forever for her?
Chapter Ten
Penelope
He looked the same, the same but different. She’d given him his first tattoo, and now he was covered in them. His hair and eyes were the still the same shade of near black, but his face was scruffy. He’d been clean shaven and quick to smile when they were young.
Life had hardened him, she could sense it clear as day. Had their separation been to blame? Was she the reason there was no longer a playful spark in his eyes?
Penelope rose up to her knees. If he was going to be pacing around the white-walled and boring room, throwing his hands around, she was too. “You think I was hanging around the states going to school like a normal kid? My father sent me to a boarding school in Switzerland to finish out my senior year.”
His gorgeous dark eyes went wide. “Your rich daddy sent you to a posh boarding school in the Swiss Alps?”
“Cliché, but true.” She’d been torn from Baze’s arms and shoved onto a private jet. She was in another country before the sun even came up. They thought that they had been so careful, keeping their relationship secret. She knew now how naïve they had been. Baze would never be anything but trash in her father’s eyes. And no matter how much she’d begged or cried or tried to get kicked out of that godforsaken school, he wouldn’t budge. And when the pain had set in, he’d had her sedated.
Finally, she’d simply lied. She’d told him that the pain had gone away and that she was fine. That she was happy. She’d rather live her life in constant pain, with a constant reminder of Baze, than in a blurry haze where he didn’t exist at all. That was how much she had loved him.
“After the boarding school it was either Cambridge or Oxford.” She hadn’t been allowed to return to the states. Her father had told her he’d get Baze’s scholarship pulled, and she’d believed him. Stupidly, she’d believed his threats, but she was so young. Back then her world was so small and her father’s reach seemed to stretch the globe. “I chose neither and instead have spent that last nine years working as an aide for Doctor’s Without Borders.”
“Couldn’t piss your daddy off with the bad boy anymore, so instead you snuffed fancy colleges and went to help the poor.” He smirked. And her heart soared. She’d been kidnapped, beaten, and left for dead. But today, seeing Baze again somehow made it all worth it. It was stupid really. She should be pissed that he was the reason she’d been taken. She should be climbing the walls trying to get away from him, from the mess he and his pack were in. But she couldn’t; her body wouldn’t let her. Baze had the same magnetic pull on her he’d had since the day she turned sixteen.
“You were never the bad boy you wanted to believe you were, Baze Carter.” She let her eyes trail over his body, taking in all the changes she’d noticed earlier. He had tattoos covering his arms, and a few peeking out the collar of his t-shirt. He was bulkier than he used to be, and his five o’clock shadow begged to be touched. “Although now I guess you look the part, so there’s that.” Her soul ached a little. So much time had passed, and it was tragic.
He seemed to tear his attention away from her, turning his back and facing the large window across from her bed. “How did Franklin get to you?”
“I’ve been living in South Africa, but I was in New York catching a connecting flight to Mexico when I was taken. What day is today?”
“Saturday.”
“So that was five days ago.” Franklin had hit her, he’d kicked her, he’d withheld food and water at times. But he hadn’t broken her. Thanks to her father’s exile, she was made of tougher stock these days. She lived in some of the poorest villages and the harshest climates in the world. “I was meant as a message to you, and your pack.”
“Did he say anything else? Did you see anyone else? Any names?”
He still wasn’t looking at her, and she missed his dark gaze on hers. She wanted him closer, but at the same time, she needed him to stay away. “Nothing. I never saw anything, I never met anyone else. It was me and him, and he kept me in a guest room at his house.”
At that he did turn around, his muscular arms crossed over his thick chest. “His house?”
“He kept me in a nice room in what I assumed was his home. He’d withhold food and water, and of course he liked to knock me around once a day. But other than that, it was like…pretentious?”
“Pretentious? Your holding cell was pretentious?”
“I grew up in a home that was bordering on over the top. My parents enjoyed showing their wealth.” She shook her head. “But this house? It was something altogether different. Every piece of furniture, every swatch of fabric…Franklin has the kind of money that makes rich people envious.”
Baze stayed silent, his eyes searching her face. She didn’t know what he was looking for, so instead of thinking on it too hard she kept talking. “He told me that I was to send you a message. That I was being punished because of your pack. Those were the only words he spoke to me.” She’d yelled and fought and demanded answers. But the man who had held her captive was unyielding.
“Tell me more about him.”
She wanted a shower, she wanted food. She wanted some ibuprofen for her headache and another three-hour nap. But she knew that the more she could tell Baze about their enemy, the better off they’d all be. “He was cold, but not evil. He was harsh, but almost fair in a way that didn’t make any sense. He never spoke to me unless it was to tell me that everything was your fault. It was almost like he was trying to brainwash me.”
“Did it work?”
“Well, considering that I was kidnapped because of my connection to you, I’d say that it was all your fault.” She sent him a snarky smile. “No brainwashing necessary.”
He kept studying her, his eyes taking in the bruising on her arms and narrowing in what she assumed was anger. “I’m sorry this happened to you and I’m even sorrier that it happened because of your link to me.”
She was at war with her brain, because part of her wasn’t at all sorry this had happened. Part of her would go through it all over again just so she could end up here, sitting in front of Baze Carter. She wanted to ask him if he still loved her.
Penelope grew up in the shifter world. She knew that instinct took over when it came to bonding. The process had started for them over a decade ago. She knew that he hadn’t taken another mate; she would have been able to tell. He wouldn’t have gotten so close to her, he wouldn’t have been able to stare into her eyes like he was. If his heart had belonged to another, she wouldn’t be able to see how much he still cared for her by his every interaction. But what was she supposed to do with that knowledge? She had no idea.
“Tell me what I’ve been dragged into. Why is this man after you?” Maybe changing the subject back to murder and mayhem would get her mind off her heart.
“Franklin first came on our radar after we found out that he had been abusing one of his sons, Jace. He’s a player on the St. Leasing baseball team and my buddy’s mate had to do some psychological evaluations, that’s how we found out.”
“Is he okay? The kid?”
“He’s, uh, coping.” Baze swallowed and then started again. “Franklin came to St. Leasing to hurt his sons. So we got involved, and he lost custody. Which pissed him the fuck off so he sent som
eone to campus to scare us. Corey, Dom’s mate, and Riley, another one of our players, got hurt.
“Corey shot the man who hurt her. Bull. His name was Bull. She shot him in the balls and then he was arrested. Franklin had him killed in prison, but made it look like suicide. Some bigwig detectives came to town to investigate another related murder, and we put them on to the fact that everything was connected to Franklin.”
Baze took a deep breath. “Things were quiet for a bit but then after the Feds tried to get some of Franklin’s men to talk, he had them killed as well. He got even more pissed at us and sent another man here to send yet another message. Riley got hurt, Madden almost got hurt, but we caught that asshole and we’re currently torturing him to make him give up the goods on his crooked boss.” He smiled, tightly. “Which is why Franklin took and hurt you.”
“Holy shit.” She was almost sorry she’d asked. “That all sounds like a made-up movie plot.”
He sighed, hanging his head wearily. “I know.”
Chapter Eleven
Baze
It was dark now; his packmates should be here soon. Which meant his alone time with Penelope was about to become almost nonexistent, so he didn’t want to waste any more of it talking about Franklin. While Jace’s house in the mountains was large, by anyone’s standards, there were about to be eleven people living there— eleven exceptionally nosy and interested people.
“I don’t know what happens next, Pen.” He went and sat back on the edge of the bed, his hands wanting more than anything to touch her soft skin. “My pack—”
“You really have a pack now? A real wolf pack?”
Baze smiled at that. He and his friends were an anomaly in this day and age; real packs were something of the past. “It happened slowly, over time. The four men I coach baseball with at St. Leasing are all shifters. Over the last year they’ve all met and mated. We live in close proximity of each other. We work together, we spend weekends together.” He shrugged. “Eventually we kind of slid into it I guess.”
“You’re the only one without a mate?” She was speaking to him, but she was looking at her lap.
“I have a mate.”
Her eyes flew to his, round and almost sad. “Oh, I didn’t realize—”
“You’re my girl, Penelope. You always have been, and you always will be. You’re my mate.”
She held her hand up, stopping his sappy declaration. “Baze. Look, I can’t sit here and act like I’m not glad that you aren’t bonded with someone else. But you can’t seriously think of me as your mate.”
“Why not? Don’t you still think of me as yours? You aren’t mated. I’d be able to tell. I’d be able to smell him on you.” The thought alone was hard to stomach.
“Are you telling me that you’ve spent the last ten years pining and celibate? You’ve slept alone every night with no one to comfort you but your hand?” she scoffed. “Because it seems to me a hot young baseball coach in a small mountain town would get plenty of play.”
“There have been other women, but they meant nothing. They were a means to an end, nothing more.”
“Be still my heart.” She rolled her eyes.
“You are mine, Penelope. You’re my mate. And as soon as things calm down around here, I am going to bend—”
“Whoa.” She held her hand up again. “I haven’t seen you in ten fucking years, Baze Carter. Don’t for one second think that I am going to let you mount me the second this house goes to sleep.” She shook her head. “I’m not some desperate chick in a small-town bar. It won’t be nearly that easy. History be damned.”
Baze didn’t exactly know what to say to that. He loved her fire, he always had. But she was angry about something she didn’t understand. “I know we’ve—”
“Hey, man, you up there?”
And there it was, their privacy was over for the next few hours at least. “Yeah, I’ll be down in a minute.” He put his hands on his hips, hanging his head. “This is my room. You can stay up here and I’ll bring you some dinner in a bit.”
“I don’t want to stay up here alone.” Her voice was small, quiet. Completely at odds with the way she’d handed him his ass a few moments ago.
“You ready to meet them?” He’d thought she’d want more rest, but as with a lot of things today, he’d thought wrong.
“I’ve been trapped in a room for the last week.” She took a deep inhale, her eyes roaming over the space they were in. “I don’t feel much like staying locked away from the rest of the house right now.”
Every time she mentioned Franklin, and being held captive, or the abuse she’d suffered at his hands, Baze saw red. His anger reached new heights and he fought the urge to shift. He wanted to run into the night, following the scent still lingering on his mate’s skin.
He wanted to kill.
She took a step toward him, and he backed up. “Could you shower first?” He looked down at his feet, unable to help his request. “Now that you aren’t under the covers, I can smell him on you.” The covers on the bed smelled like fresh laundry; Penelope by herself smelled only of Franklin.
She studied him, her eyes holding a small hint of wickedness. Penelope knew what he was feeling; she knew that he was fighting his need to possess her. And she liked it. His angel and her wicked little mind. He’d missed that evil smile. He’d missed the way she’d work him up.
He cleared his throat, trying to garner some control. “If you want, I’ll wait for you.” If she didn’t want to be alone, he didn’t want to force her into it. But he needed her to not smell like the man he currently wanted to maim and murder.
She glanced down at her clothes. “I don’t have anything to change into.” Her black shirt was torn and hanging off one shoulder. Her jeans had holes in the knees that didn’t look like they were supposed to be there.
He crossed the room, opening the bag he’d had packed and ready to go in his backseat for the last week. Just in case. “Here.” He pulled out a pair of his boxer briefs and one of his St. Leasing varsity baseball shirts. “Tomorrow I’ll go into town and get you whatever you need, but these will do for tonight.” And they’d make his dick perpetually hard as stone. She’d be covered in his scent, and wearing his clothes.
“Thanks.” She stepped past him into the adjoining bathroom, the sound of the shower starting sounding moments later.
He wanted to join her, like earlier when he’d itched to touch her. He hadn’t seen her in ten years, but his unquenchable desire for her was coming back quickly. And in full force.
He waited patiently while she showered, using the soap he’d brought with him. He could smell her scent changing from where he stood in the bedroom. Him. She smelled like him now, and his shifter side was growling in pleasure.
His girl wearing his scent wrapped in his clothes. It was like for the first time in his life, everything was as it should be.
His spine started to tingle, the urge to claim her nearly knocking him to his knees. He gripped the edge of the chair he’d sat on earlier; the place from where he’d watched her sleep. He felt the wood start to crack under the pressure of his hands. He took deep breaths, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. He was fighting to get his shit together; he was seconds away from losing control.
Chapter Twelve
Penelope
“Hey, you okay?” She came out of the bathroom, steam escaping through the open door. Baze was bent at the waist, clutching the high-backed armchair next to the bed she’d slept in. She could see the tension in his posture. “Do I still smell like—”
“Please, Pen, please don’t say his name.” He turned to look at her, his eyes pleading. “I can’t handle it right now.”
She lifted her arm, smelling her skin. She thought she smelled like the soap she’d used in the shower. But her nose wasn’t the nose of a shifter. “Do I, uh, smell okay?”
He nodded. “You smell like me.” He took a step toward her, his hands reaching.
She wanted him to touc
h her, so her heart sank when his palms dropped back to his side. Penelope stood still, not sure what to do next. She’d showered like he’d asked; she was wearing his clothes. Now it was time for them to go downstairs and meet his pack. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous. Packs weren’t common, not in this day. But from what she knew, shifter packs were closer than family. They were tight-knit, protective, and they didn’t take to outsiders all that well.
She may have been Baze’s whole world when they were kids, but they were basically strangers at this point.
“When you meet them, my friends, you can’t touch them.”
Her eyes snapped to his face. “What?”
He shook his head, his gaze weary. “I feel…on edge. I feel possessive of you, and I can’t seem to shake it.” He licked his lips. “I’ll get it under control. But in the meantime, please don’t let them touch you. Especially the young guys, they’re not bonded.”
Was everything they’d gone through as kids coming back full force? Would the pain come back too? And the million-dollar question: what would they do about it if it did?
She nodded, letting him know that she’d heard him and she understood. And when he gestured for her to step in front of him, she waited in the hall to let him lead her down the stairs and into what appeared to be a massive living room.
The first thing she saw was the mounds of Chinese food on the large, long walnut coffee table. She put her hand on her stomach when it growled loudly. It’d been days since she’d had a real meal. She was starving, and now everyone knew it. “Sorry.”
A girl with long blonde hair, a shade lighter than Pen’s, stepped forward. “Don’t apologize.” Her smile was kind and she held a plate out, piled high with lo mein and orange chicken. “I’m Molly, Keller’s mate.”
“Thank you.” Pen took the food, not able to resist the smell any longer.
Molly kept standing, pointing around the room at each person in turn. “That’s Corey, Dominic, Lincoln, Madden, Jasper, Jace, Riley, and my mate Keller.” Molly laughed lightly. “Don’t worry about remembering everyone’s names. We won’t quiz you until tomorrow.”