Cuffed and Dangerous

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Cuffed and Dangerous Page 5

by Bronwyn Green


  A tender smile curved his lips while she tried to ignore the regret that filled her.

  He pointed toward the door. “It’s right around the corner to the left.”

  She climbed out of bed, missing their warmth already. “Mind if I take a quick shower?”

  He shook his head and drew the sheet up to his waist. “Towels are in the cupboard under the sink.” He patted the bed between him and a sleeping Jude. “Hurry back.”

  She smiled even though it hurt. “I will”

  Chapter Three

  Wrenn drove as fast as she dared down the two track. It was little more than a path that was now littered with fallen branches. Leaving the picturesque cottage behind, she also left the only two men who’d ever made her want more than one night. She shifted uncomfortably in her stiff, partially dry clothes, checking her purse for her gun. After she’d taken a nearly forty-five minute shower, it had been easy enough to sneak out. Both men had been deeply asleep, and she managed to resist the urge to kiss them one last time.

  She’d found her clothes drying by the fireplace, with her purse sitting on a nearby chair. She’d left the envelopes with their share of the bounty laying in the middle of the kitchen table, having paused for several long moments while she’d contemplated writing a note. But what would she have said? Thanks for the great time? It was nice meeting you? Better to just cut her losses and leave.

  Unfortunately, doing what was best made her heart ache unexpectedly. It was ridiculous. She’d only met them yesterday. But ridiculous or not, she couldn’t deny the sense of loss that increased with every mile she put between them.

  Her phone beeped, alerting her to a waiting voicemail. Pulling the phone from its pocket, she entered her pin number and listened to the message. A job in southeast Ohio. Nothing like a little insurance fraud arrest to clear the mind. If she drove without stopping, she should reach home, have time to pack and pick up the paperwork from the bail bondsman by noon. Then it was off to Ohio and the continuation of her regularly scheduled life.

  * * * *

  Jude woke to the unsettling feeling that something was very wrong. He was naked and in Gideon’s bed with no woman in sight. No woman in sight…Wrenn. He knew without climbing out of bed that she was long gone, but he couldn’t stop himself from looking anyway. Kicking Gideon awake, he left the room and looked around. The rum bottle sat on the table next to the envelopes she’d left for them to find. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d been paid for their services. He was sure Wrenn hadn’t intended for them to think that, but the thought was there just the same.

  Gideon followed him into the room and picked up the envelopes, then tossed them down in disgust. “Fuckin’ A,” he muttered. “I knew we should’ve cuffed her.”

  “Yeah.” Jude walked on to the porch, ignoring the chilly morning air. “I’m going to see if I can pick up her scent.”

  The other man followed him outside, mindless of his nudity. “Watch out for hunters. It’s bow hunting season.”

  “Since when do big cats look like deer?”

  Gideon looked at him, brow raised. “Since beer’s what’s for breakfast at deer camp.”

  “Awesome.” Stretching his limbs, he turned his focus inward and called to the animal part of his consciousness. Like a tether had been snapped, his beast leaped forward as his bones contracted and muscle reformed itself, shifting him closer to the ground and elongating his spine. The pain was incidental in the face of freedom. Claws burst forth, splitting the skin as human hands and feet shrank to heavily padded paws. Fur sprouted and his sense of sight sharpened as his awareness of smells increased. Wet earth, sharp pine and the light honeyed fragrance of Wrenn nearly hidden by the thick scent of vehicle exhaust.

  In the distance, a potential breakfast of woodchuck waddled across the driveway, but he dismissed it. He’d wanted waffles. With Wrenn.

  Nose to the ground and mouth opened slightly, he breathed in the lingering scent of the woman he wanted more than anything. Gideon transformed and searched at Jude’s side for any trace of Wrenn. He had the sinking feeling that she wouldn’t be found until she was ready, but by shifting, they could at least figure out roughly how long she’d been gone.

  They followed her trail until they reached the main road. They could tell she’d been gone for at least five hours and that she’d headed south, but any information beyond that was impossible. The vehicles that had traveled the road since then had dissipated any residual scent markers. The twang of a compound bowstring sounded across the highway and an arrow whizzed by Jude’s head, embedding into the tree behind him. This day just kept getting better and better. Staying low in the underbrush, he and Gideon made their way back to the house.

  Shifting back into his human form had never been quite so painful. It might have been because he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just lost the best thing that had ever wandered into his life. Hands clenched at his sides, he couldn’t remember the last time his skin felt so tight. Agitated and uncomfortable, it was as if he was wearing the wrong body. He wanted nothing more than go after her and find out why she’d left. Had they frightened her? Was she simply not interested? The memory of her throaty cries still echoed in his ears. No. She was interested, at least she had been.

  He glanced at Gideon who stared out over the water. “Now what?”

  The other man sighed. “I know what you’re thinking, and I want to go after her just as much as you do, but we can’t. Not yet. You saw her scars.”

  They’d seen the physical ones, but she’d kept the rest tightly locked away. Jude suspected that her panic attack had everything to do with being mauled, and he knew her well enough to know she kept the emotional scars as carefully hidden as possible.

  “Yeah,” he finally said. “And having sex with two shifters after suffering that kind of trauma has got to be a huge mind fuck.

  Gideon shoved his hair out of his face. “Let’s give her a little time before we go banging down her door.

  “I hate waiting,” Jude muttered. “And how do you suggest we find said door when it’s time?” Jude asked.

  A wry smile curved Gideon’s mouth. “The internet is a many splendored thing.”

  Jude reached inside the door and flipped the light switch on and off. The power was still out. “I’ll head into town and pick up some gas for the generator.”

  Gideon nodded. “All right, I’ll clear the fallen branches while you’re gone.”

  Twenty minutes later, Jude had filled the empty gas cans, grabbed a cold coke, and waited at the counter of the gas station to pay. The clerk seemed oblivious to his presence, his eyes glued on the TV screen up in the corner.

  Jude’s blood turned to ice as a snapshot of Spencer Dane flashed onto the screen followed by a live shot of an institutional-looking building where at least twelve cop cars and two ambulances were parked outside, lights flashing. The camera panned to a shot of a news anchor reporting live at the scene.

  “Hey, turn that up, will you?” Jude asked the guy behind the counter.

  The clerk lifted a remote and upped the volume.

  “This is Susan Granderson on the scene at the Wayne County Jail in Detroit, Michigan where suspect and werelion, Spencer Dane, shifted into his animal form and mauled three guards to death before escaping from the compound. The escape happened during a routine prisoner transfer while attempting to relocate Dane to a shifter-secure facility. Police ask that you stay inside with your doors and windows locked. They have also asked that you do not approach the suspect. Spencer Dane is considered very dangerous. In his lion form, he has a full, brown-tipped mane, golden fur and a large, curved scar that runs along his left hind flank. If you have any information on the whereabouts of the fugitive, please call the authorities immediately.”

  “Fuck me swinging,” Jude breathed.

  The clerk turned and looked at him. “I’ll tell you what—them damn shifters ought to be rounded up and shot. Forget locking ‘em up. Just shoot the bastards.”


  Jude suppressed a growl. Shifters were born the same as anyone else. With the right recessive gene combination, any woman could give birth to a shifter. Glaring at the clerk, he tossed a twenty on the counter before flipping open his cell phone and heading toward the door.

  “What about your change?” the guy called after him.

  Not bothering to answer, Jude punched in Gideon’s number. “It’s time to bang down her door,” he said when his friend answered.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Just saw the news, Spencer escaped from some jail in Detroit and killed three people doing it.”

  “We’ve got to find Wrenn. Spencer’s a sociopath and he’s going to be furious that she captured him in the first place.”

  “Exactly my thought,” Jude said starting up his truck. “Since he’s already killed three people, he’s got nothing left to lose.” He pulled onto the highway and punched the accelerator. “How long do you think it’ll take to track down her contact information?”

  “Shouldn’t take too long once we get the power restored. She’s licensed, so she should be in a database somewhere. People have to know how to reach her to give her jobs.”

  “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

  * * * *

  Nearing her destination, Wrenn changed lanes, unable to keep her thoughts off Gideon and Jude. She could still feel their touch on her skin and the warmth of their breath against her lips. The sensation of them sliding in and out of her body was imprinted on her nerve endings forever. She’d been so distracted by thoughts of them, she’d almost missed her quarry entering the strip club. If an actual dancer had gotten to him before she had, she would have been screwed. But luckily, the perv’s ex-wife had been more than forthcoming when Wrenn had approached her about the best method of getting his attention. Which was why Wrenn was currently dressed in a ridiculous Catholic schoolgirl uniform. Blue and white plaid miniskirt, white blouse tied at the midriff, pigtails in her hair, and she was a pervert’s dream come true. She’d strolled into the strip club like she worked there and immediately started chatting him up. Easiest collar ever.

  Glancing down at her cleavage practically spilling from the pushup bra she wore, she couldn’t help but wonder what the guys would think of her clothes. Not that she’d ever find out. She refused to ever put this ridiculous excuse for an outfit on again. More importantly, she was never going to see Gideon or Jude again. And she certainly wasn’t going to see them together. She’d already proven what a bad idea that was. She might be able to resist them individually, but together it would be impossible. It was best to simply never cross paths with them, period. If that was for the best, why did she suddenly feel like crying?

  “You’re still the prettiest cop I ever saw,” her paycheck said from where he was cuffed in the backseat.

  “I told you before, I’m not a cop.”

  “Close enough. Since I’m going to jail for who knows how long, can I ask for a favor before we get there?”

  “What’s that?” she asked pulling onto the exit ramp.

  “Will you blow me?”

  She looked at the guy in the rearview mirror. He was completely serious. “No, but I’ll shoot you in the balls if you speak to me again.”

  “But—”

  She lifted her gun from the seat next to her, holding it up so he could see, and he fell blissfully silent.

  Her phone vibrated again. The damn thing had been going off all day, but she hadn’t wanted to miss her quarry, so she’d let everything go to voice mail.

  She glanced at her cell phone’s screen. She didn’t recognize the number, which meant it was likely another job. Hopefully whatever it was would take her mind off Gideon and Jude.

  She pushed the talk button and held it to her ear. “Saunders.”

  “Wrenn, thank God. I need to talk to you.”

  Her stomach dropped abruptly and she clutched the phone tighter with her suddenly clammy hand. Gideon. She’d recognize that midnight velvet voice anywhere.

  “Wrenn? Are you there? Are you okay?”

  “I—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “You’ve got the wrong number.” Ending the call, she tried to calm her wildly beating heart as she pulled into the parking lot of the Jackson State Prison and followed the big circle drive to the prisoner intake area.

  The phone vibrated again almost immediately. A different number this time, but the same area code. It had to be Jude. She waited for the call to go to voicemail before checking out her call log. Twenty-seven calls from the same two numbers. She tried to ignore the thrill of delight that ran through her at the realization that they’d been trying to reach her. It probably hadn’t been terribly difficult to track her down. After all, she was listed on more than one website as being available for jobs, and how many Michigan bounty hunters were named Wrenn?

  Trying to push all thoughts of Gideon and Jude out of her head, she parked the car and unlatched the chain that secured the prisoner to the floor.

  “It’s time for us to part ways, big guy.” Keeping a hold of his cuffed wrists, she guided him through the double sliding doors into the intake room. Handing his paperwork over to the bail agent and deputy who’d been waiting for them, she ignored their curious glances at her outfit. After signing off and receiving her pay, she headed back to her car and her vibrating phone.

  “What?” she said in lieu of an answer.

  “Please don’t hang up.” It was Jude this time.

  The anguish in his voice gouged out pieces of her heart. She couldn’t possibly feel this way. Not after such a short time. She needed more sleep—that was it. More sleep and maybe a vacation.

  “Why?” she forced herself to ask.

  “We need to talk…about a lot of things, but those have to wait. Right now, you need to get someplace safe and tell us where to meet you.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Spencer Dane, the shifter you brought in the other day?”

  As if she could forget him. He’d railed at her and threatened her repeatedly on the five-hour drive from Petoskey to Detroit.

  “He escaped during a prisoner transfer and killed three guards while doing it,” Jude said.

  Wrenn’s stomach tightened as everything she’d eaten earlier tried to make its way back up. Spencer was a narcissistic asshat and would be looking to punish anyone he considered responsible for his humiliation. That meant Gideon and Jude were in danger, too. Fear tightened her hand on the steering wheel. “You guys need to lay low for a while.”

  “You’re the one we’re worried about. We can take care of ourselves.”

  She thought she heard Gideon sigh heavily on Jude’s end as her fear was quickly replaced by anger.

  “I can take care of myself, too, cat boy.”

  “Look, I’m sorry,” Jude said. “That didn’t come out right. Just let us know where you are so we can meet up and figure out what to do.”

  “There’s nothing to figure out. If I see him, I’ll bring his ass in. If I don’t, I’ll leave it to the cops. Besides,” she said with hope she didn’t feel, “he’s probably halfway to Mexico by now.”

  “No way. Not Spencer. Trust me, Wrenn. He wants blood. Yours.” His voice caught on the last word and she couldn’t ignore the answering tug of need she felt deep in her stomach.

  It had been so hard to walk away from them this morning. The farther she’d gotten, the more it had hurt. “If he—” She swallowed hard to control her suddenly shaky voice. “If he wants mine, you can bet he wants yours, too.”

  There was a muffled sound as if someone had covered up the microphone area of the phone, and then Jude came back on the line. “Gideon wants to talk to you.”

  Of course he did.

  “Wrenn, just let us know where you are, and we’ll face him together.”

  She sighed. She wanted nothing more than to go to them and lose herself in their warmth and strength—at least for a little while. But that would be stupid. She hadn’t re
lied on anyone since she was a child, she certainly wasn’t going to start now.

  Her call waiting beeped insistently in her ear. Saved by technology.

  “Hang on, I’ve got another call.” She checked the screen. It was one of the bail bond offices near her home in Lansing. Clicking over, she answered. “Saunders.”

  “Oh good. I was hoping you’d answer.”

  Wrenn’s heart lurched in her chest at the sound of Spencer’s voice, but she forced herself not to react. “What do you want?”

  “I want was everyone wants—unlimited wealth, world peace, and the freedom to do whatever I fucking want,” he snarled.

  “Sorry. Can’t help you with any of those.”

  “Then in that case, I want you to get your ass over to 24/7 Bail Bonds before I decide to take my frustration out on… What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  All Wrenn could hear was a frightened whimper on the other end.

  “Emma,” he said. “If I see the merest hint of police involvement, Emma here, is dead. I’ll disembowel her immediately. Her belly is so nice and soft…it wouldn’t take much more than extending my claws into her pretty, pink flesh.”

  Emma’s terrified cry tore at Wrenn.

  “I’ve got sentries all around the building, so you’d better hope this isn’t a regularly patrolled area,” he snapped. “Be here in an hour.”

  “I’m at least two hours away.”

  “Then I guess you’d better drive faster.” He hung up, leaving Wrenn with the dial tone screeching in her ear. She’d kill him if he harmed Emma.

  Looking around for cops, she raced toward Lansing before she remembered Gideon was on the other line. She took a deep breath and clicked over. “Sorry, had to take a work call.”

  “Where are you?” he asked.

  “I’m headed to another job.” It wasn’t technically a lie. She needed to finish the job she’d started when she’d taken Spencer into custody in the first place. This time, he wouldn’t live to see the inside of another jail cell.

  “Tell us where and we’ll meet you.”

 

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