MARCUS: New Orleans Billionaire Wolf Shifters with plus sized BBW mates (Le Beau Series Book 10)

by V. A. Dold

  Shifting his free hand into wolf claws, he punctured the airbag. After a few seconds, he was able to draw a shallow breath. “Fuck.” He most definitely had a broken rib or two. Sucking in a second small breath, he took a moment to survey the damage. The hood and engine block formed a grotesque lump of plastic and metal twisted in on itself. The front end of the car was buried a few inches in the soft earth, standing the car on its head against a tree trunk. Spilled coolant and gasoline polluted the air. Overlaying all of that was the scent of blood. His blood.

  Testing the arm that had been plastered to his chest, he flexed his fingers. “Shit!” Something was broken there, too. Even his fingernails hurt. Bracing himself for the pain he knew was coming, he wiggled his toes of both feet. Agony ripped through Marcus’s left leg, ending his examination before it began.

  Pain had reality fading in and out. His focus was getting harder and harder to maintain. He feared the fuzziness was due to blood loss. He had to get free of the wreckage to assess his injuries and tourniquet his leg. Blinking several times, he tried to clear his vision and mind so he could concentrate and formulate a plan.

  Slightly dazed, broken and bleeding, Marcus breathed for a moment, waiting for the agony screaming through his body to ebb. Blinking spots from his vision, he turned his attention to his damaged door. Pressing against his means of escape, he grabbed the door handle and pulled. Nothing happened. He pulled the handle again, this time putting his shoulder into it. The damn thing still didn’t budge. Three times a charm, or so they say. Leaning as far right as he could, he rammed his left shoulder into the door. His attempt didn’t open the way, but it rocked the car enough to throw its balance off. Unable to do anything but close his eyes and pray for the best, the momentum increased, continuing until the vehicle lay belly up.

  Sandwiched as he was in the driver’s seat, Marcus hung upside down, praying Cade would send aid as blackness overtook him.

  Sometime later, he came to. Taking in as much air as his aching chest would allow, he got a whiff of smoke right before Seth ripped the door off of his car.

  “Marcus? Can you hear me? This is going to hurt, but I have to get you out, and there’s no time for gentleness because the car's about to blow.”

  He lost consciousness again before he could respond. That was a blessing. The pain would have been off the charts when Seth ripped him from the car and dragged him a safe distance away.

  Thank goodness he did. Moments or minutes later, he couldn’t be sure which, he came to as flames erupted, rushing across the gasoline spilled on the ground straight to the gas tank.

  * * * * *

  Isaac Le Beau smiled to himself as he answered his phone. “Cade! What’s up?”

  “Dad! Marcus was in a car accident.”

  Isaac jumped to his feet. “What?”

  “I was on the phone with him when the collision happened. I don’t know if he was injured, but it sounded… bad.” Cade panted out the words. “I called 911, and an ambulance is on its way. I also called Seth. Luckily, he was close to the crash and is headed there now. I’m praying for the best, but we have to plan for the worst. Grab Mom and Anna and get to the hospital. I’ll meet you there.”

  “We’re on our way.” Isaac shoved his phone in his pocket as he yelled, “Emma!”

  Thirty minutes later, Isaac marched up to the nurse’s station, holding Emma’s hand. “I’m looking for my son, Marcus Le Beau,” he growled at the quivering receptionist.

  “One—one moment, S-s-s—sir,” the terrified nurse stuttered as she punched keys on the keyboard, avoiding eye contact with him.

  Anna rolled her eyes at her father-in-law’s behavior. “Shifters,” she mumbled to herself.

  “Isaac,” Emma admonished. “Stop intimidating the young woman. You’re only making it worse.”

  He turned his glare on his mate, only to pull himself together when he saw her strained expression. “You’re right. I’m sorry Miss—” He glanced at her nametag and continued. “Jacobs. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  The nurse’s tense shoulders lowered as she visibly relaxed. A moment later, she glanced up and exclaimed. “I found it! Your son is in surgery. If you would fill out his admission papers, I can get his information updated in my computer.” She attached the pages to a clipboard and passed it, along with a pen to Isaac. “There’s a waiting room down the hall. Make yourself comfortable. While you do the paperwork, I’ll notify the surgical team that his family is here. Hopefully, I can give you an update when you bring the documents back to me.”

  Isaac wanted to demand an update immediately, but Emma placed a restraining hand on his arm. “Thank you, Miss Jacobs.”

  Miss Jacobs gave Emma a genuinely bright smile at that. “You’re welcome.”

  Emma took the clipboard from him and diligently filled it out. When she got to Marcus’s birthdate, she paused. “Do you recall what he used the last time he was here?”

  Isaac rubbed his jaw. “I believe he used his real birthday, but the year was nineteen ninety-one.”

  Emma nodded. “That’s right. Now I remember.” She added the information with a flourish and jumped to her feet. “All done. Come on. I want to see if the nurse can tell us what Marcus’s condition is.”

  As they neared the nurse’s station, the elevator opened, and Cade rushed out. He hauled Anna into his arms, as he demanded, “How is he?”

  “We don’t know yet, but we were about to ask.”

  Nurse Jacobs chose that moment to return. “Your son came in with a compound fracture in his leg, a broken arm, three broken ribs, and a punctured lung. He’s in surgery but expected to make a full recovery.”

  Emma sagged against Isaac. “Thank Goddess.”

  Cade took a breath and nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

  Miss Jacobs waved toward the direction of the waiting area. “If you will all take a seat, the doctor will give you an update as soon as he can.”

  “Is that where Seth is?” Cade asked, as he took Anna’s hand and turned to walk down the hallway.

  Isaac frowned. “Isn’t he with you?”

  “No. I told you he went directly to the crash site.”

  Nurse Jacobs lifted her hand and tentatively raised a finger. “I know where he is.”

  “Where?” All four Le Beau’s asked as one.

  “He’s in the surgery with your son. He came in with Mr. Le Beau in the ambulance and—” she trailed off, then swallowed hard. “He insisted he stay with your son, sir.”

  For the first time since marching up to the nurse’s station, Isaac smiled warmly at the poor woman. “Seth is another of our sons. I’m relieved to know he’s with Marcus. Thank you.”

  He gave the nurse one last nod before taking Emma’s hand and leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Don’t worry, mon amour. Our boy is strong and will pull through this.”

  She gave him a watery-eyed smile. “I know. But I’ll feel better once I see him with my own eyes and assess his condition myself.”

  “That makes two of us,” Anna added.

  Their small group of four had just taken their seats when eight more Le Beau’s filed in. “How’s our boy?” Thomas asked, as he took a seat and pulled Julia onto his lap.

  “He’s pretty busted up but will be fine. Seth is with him in the surgery. I’m sure he’s criticizing every move the surgeon makes.”

  Simon and Stefan snorted in agreement.

  Simon’s mate, Rose, glanced at Anna and Emma. “When he gets a room, do you want my help healing him? I can’t do much, but I can offer you extra energy.”

  El nodded. “Me too.”

  Emma smiled at her daughters-in-law. “You’re all so sweet. That would be appreciated.”

  Sara scooted forward on the chair she’d taken. “I went with Seth to the crash site. We worked on him as long as we could, but then emergency vehicles showed up, and we had to stop.”

  Isaac’s brows rose. “You worked on Marcus?”

  “Well… yeah. Didn’t
we ever tell you that I have some healing abilities? It’s a minor gift and pales in comparison to what Seth can do, but I can help in a pinch.”

  He cleared his throat. “No. That’s something I would have remembered.”

  Sara shrugged. “Sorry. I thought we told you. Anyway, He was bleeding badly from the compound fracture in his leg. I think he nicked an artery. Seth concentrated on that while I worked on his ribs. Three of them were broken in several places. Seth fixed the artery and started on the break but had to stop before he could finish. I was able to fix most of the fractures in his ribs, but each was left with one fracture when I was interrupted.”

  Emma twisted her hands in her lap, listening intently to what Sara had to say. “Thank you. I would love to have you help us when Marcus gets a room.”

  John took the chair next to Sara. “Can you tell us what happened?”

  Sara turned to face him. “Do you mean what caused the crash?”

  “Yeah. Was the other driver still there? How did Marcus get so banged up?”

  Sara shook her head. “Whoever hit Marcus took off. I noted two additional sets of tire tracks that didn’t match Marcus’s car. Also, based on the damage to his car, it looks like he was sideswiped and rear-ended. Of course, plummeting off a raised bridge and busting through the trees as he fell forty feet caused some of the damage, but trees don’t leave paint behind. There was red paint on the back end of his car and white on the driver's side. That was pretty hard to miss on a black car.”

  “Who would do that?” Isaac growled in demand.

  Thomas shook his head. “I don’t know, but I sure as hell will find out.”

  Sara grinned at Thomas. “I’m already on it. I called my friends at NOPD when I went home to change out of my bloody clothes and grab a change of clothes for Seth. They’re looking into the accident report and have contacted the body shops in the area to be on the lookout for red and white vehicles with front-end and driver-side damage.”

  Thomas grinned back. “Good job. We’ll have to share notes over coffee tomorrow morning.”

  Sara nodded and sat back in her chair. “I’ll let Seth know. He’ll want to be in on that meeting.”

  Julia wriggled out of Thomas’s arms and stood. “I’ll give energy to the healing as well, aunt Emma. Until then, I need caffeine. Who wants a cup?” She took everyone’s order and left the room.

  Isaac paced the room for what seemed like the hundredth time in two hours when a doctor walked into the waiting room. “Mr. and Mrs. Le Beau?” he asked as he glanced from face to face.

  “Yes?” everyone said at once, confusing the doctor even more.

  Emma waved to get his attention. “I’m Mrs. Le Beau. How’s my son?”

  “He’s out of surgery and in recovery. He had a punctured lung and compound fracture. Both took a little longer to repair than I expected.” He rubbed his brow as if he had a headache. “Oddly, the wounds looked like they were a day old and already healing.” He shook his head as if to rid his mind of the memory, then added, “He should be assigned a private room in a half-hour or so.”

  “I want to see him,” she stated in a tone that brooked no argument.

  The doctor opened his mouth, took one look at her don’t mess with me expression, and snapped it shut. “Of course. If you would follow me?”

  Emma stood and smoothed her clothing. “Anna? Would you come as well?”

  Isaac saw his daughter-in-law flick a glance at the doctor before rising from her chair. “Sure.”

  Emma paused to kiss Isaac’s cheek. “I’ll let you know how he’s doing,” she whispered, then followed the doctor from the room.

  Her hand flew to her mouth, and tears filled her eyes at the sight of Marcus lying bruised and battered in the bed. The bandages covering his wounds couldn’t hide the swelling or the angry bluish-purple coloring a large percentage of his face.

  Emma never got used to seeing her children lying in a hospital bed with IVs and wires connecting them to all manner of equipment. Visits to the emergency room were happening much too often for her liking.

  She gripped the back of the guest chair placed beside the bed. “Anna.” Her voice came out shaky and breathy. “Why don’t you take the other side of his head. I would like to heal his face before the others see him. He wouldn’t want to be seen this way.”

  Anna did as she was instructed and held her palms an inch or so above Marcus’s face and the crown of his head. Emma did the same. Both closed their eyes and let the healing energy enter their bodies and flow from their hands to Marcus.

  * * * * *

  The smell of antiseptic filling Marcus’s nostrils was like a slap in the face. The stringent stench of disinfectant and cleansers mixed with the putrid scent of death turned his stomach. Whining like a pussy, his wolf retreated to the far reaches of his mind. God, he hated hospitals.

  Muffled conversation wheedled its way into his mind. He tried to peel his eyelids open, but they were too heavy. And why was his mouth fuzzy and dry? Who put cotton balls in his mouth?

  His head screamed at him to stop thinking so hard as a thick black mist engulfed his mind again.

  Hushed voices, more of them this time, coaxed Marcus to resurface and join the land of the living. He forced his eyes open just a crack and immediately regretted the action. He felt like a slice of shit between two pieces of shit bread, with a side of shit slaw. The sun that streamed through the hospital window and stabbed at his brain did nothing to improve the smell that assailed his senses. He turned his head toward the wall and was greeted with two familiar faces. His parents, side by side, holding hands.

  “Hey there,” his father said as his mother took his hand in hers.

  “Oh, baby. You had me so scared. How are you feeling? What hurts? Who did this to you? Why would someone run you off the road?” Emma rattled off the questions like a Gatling gun.

  “Slow down, mon amour. Let him wake up before we interrogate him. In a few minutes, we can ask our questions one at a time,” Isaac gently admonished.

  “I’m sorry. I was just so scared.”

  “I know, sweetheart.”

  As Marcus’s vision slowly cleared, he was now painfully aware that his entire family surrounded his hospital bed, although how he’d gotten there remained a mystery. The last thing he remembered was the car tilting and rolling until it was upside down. Great. Just great.

  “How bad am I?” he asked, his voice little more than a croak. He cleared his throat to try again.

  “Pretty bad, but better than you were when I found you,” Seth said from the foot of his bed.

  Marcus licked his bone-dry lips.

  “Hold on a second,” Sara said from the sunny side of the bed. A moment later, a cup of water with a straw was held in front of his face. “Sip, don’t gulp,” she commanded, which made him smile. Only Sara had the balls to push him around. Seth was a lucky bastard.

  He relished the cool wetness as it filled his mouth and lubricated his throat. “Thank you, brat,” he said with a slight smile.

  “You’re welcome, butthead.”

  Marcus cocked a brow, then winced. He must be worse than he thought if that hurt. “I feel like I was hit by a Mack truck. Can you fix me up?”

  Emma gave him a soft loving smile. “Of course. We did a little work already but decided to wait until you woke to tell us where you hurt the most. It’ll take a few sessions to heal you completely, and I wanted to work on the worst of your injuries first.”

  “Yeah, okay. Um… my leg. Start with that.”

  Emma glanced at each of the women. One by one, they took up positions around the bed with their mate standing at their back, lending them energy.

  He closed his eyes and drifted as the energy flowed into his body in soft, yet powerful waves.

  After what felt like fifteen minutes, his mother spoke again. “There. That will do for now. In a couple of hours, we’ll do it again but concentrate on your ribs.”

  “Thank you. I feel much better and
want to go home. You can continue my healing there.” When his mother opened her mouth, he looked at his father. “Dad, get me out of here.”

  Two

  Cassidy Ryan was the best in the business when it came to sizing up a hit. For that reason, she was assigned Hanson’s contract. Her boss knew she took her time to research a target and observe the mark in action before making a move. If she felt the man or woman was undeserving of elimination, she walked away from the job. In fact, she’d done just that on several occasions. Nothing could persuade her to kill an innocent. Not threats, not beatings, heck she had been put in a sensory deprivation tank for days after refusing to kill a child and didn’t break.

  By the fourth day in the tank, Mr. Jones realized there were plenty of contracts that would pass her litmus test. He let her out of the torture chamber and cut a deal with her about the contracts she would take. Thus, she was only given jobs that were a sure thing. And Mark Hanson was as guilty as the day was long.

  Her boss and adoptive father, Mr. Jones, a name she was sure was as fake as their familial ties, told her she was a valuable asset, regardless of her problematic values. Cassidy snorted at the thought. The only person for whom her moral compass was problematic was him.

  That was neither here nor there when it came to Mr. Hanson and his file. He was a viciously, violent man. Hospital records showed he had put his wife and daughter into the hospital numerous times. Each injury was progressively worse than the last. The last medical stay had lasted for over a month with his daughter in a coma. More, he always kept a mistress on the side. Women he went through like water and killed when he grew tired of them.

  Sure, he’d been brought up on charges time and again only to weasel his way out of a conviction. The amount of money he greased palms with to stay on the outside of prison walls could fill Fort Knox.

  He wasn’t getting off scot-free this time. His wife had finally discovered her lady balls and contacted JARVS. If a client was at the end of their rope, with no other options left to them, they contacted JARVS Corp. The name spelled out exactly what they offered, Justice, Assassination, Retrieval, Vengeance, or Sabotage. When the Justice systems failed, JARVS stepped in if the client had a rightful claim and the money to pay the contract was received.