True Claim

Home > Romance > True Claim > Page 3
True Claim Page 3

by Marie Johnston


  Bennett got the distinct impression she knew he was there and was choosing to ignore him. Pulling on a pair of leather work gloves, he stationed himself next to her and went to work.

  “I told you not to come,” she said, without skipping a beat in her clearing.

  “No, ma’am. You said ‘don’t worry about it’ so I’m not worried about coming to help.”

  That made her stand up, looking all cute and exasperated. The big hat shaded her face and neck, her red plaid shirt was still on and what he would give to see her in just that white tank top.

  “Well, thank you,” she said with a clipped tone. “I’m going to take these to the compost pile.”

  He continued pulling weeds, peering through them to watch her rounded bottom as she bent over to gather her work from the previous hour. Then he had to stand up and readjust before stooping back down to work.

  They continued like that for hours. She didn’t offer to stop for lunch and he didn’t mention it. But he was fucking starving. It felt good to toil away under the hot sun. It’s what his people were made for. Demanding work tending to Mother Earth, then cool off running their wolf through the shaded woods.

  His duty could be physically challenging at times, especially if there was fighting involved, plus they did their own manual labor around the lodge and cabins. Most times, it was a lot of driving and investigating, as they were the police force for their people, and they had a wide region to cover in addition to the West Creek/Freemont area.

  Bennett’s ears picked up on metal snapping against metal before he heard the yell of pain.

  “Stay here.” he ordered, before he took off at a sprint into the surrounding trees.

  The sprint slowed quickly when he almost ran into one of his sexy neighbor’s metal traps. Concentrating on dodging them and keeping his senses open, he detected the taint of a Madame G recruit.

  Son of a bitch! He hoped Spencer listened to him and stayed put. He didn’t need to reveal himself to a human, didn’t need her to witness the ruthless side of his nature as he disposed of the recruit, and didn’t need to waste his time on explanations.

  Making a wide circle, stepping silently through the budding trees, he came around behind the young male recruit.

  “Guys!” the recruit was whisper-shouting through the trees. “Help me get my foot free. Guys?”

  Little bastard didn’t realize he was disposable to both Madame G and his buddies. Wishing he had time to interrogate him, he sent mental information to Commander Fitzsimmons and knocked the man out. Now, to find the others.

  Crouching low, he slid a knife out from one boot and followed his nose to the putrid smelling recruit who was trying, but failing, to hide behind a tree. This one had a set of binoculars and was peering through the trees toward the direction of the house. Good luck seeing anything through the trees, idiot. But what was he looking for? Did the recruits think Spencer’s land was part of Guardian headquarters?

  Since he had already left one recruit in the trap for interrogation, this one could be disposed of. He clamped his hand over the man’s mouth and slid the knife through his ribs straight into the heart. It wasn’t until he was laying the body down he realized it was a set-up and he’d taken the bait.

  The impact burned as a bullet pierced Bennett’s thigh. Yanking his knife out of the fallen recruit, he threw it with deadly accuracy toward the shooter. Not waiting to find out if he hit his target (he knew he would), he ignored the fire in his leg and bent to retrieve another knife to take on the recruits rushing toward him from different directions.

  There were two and he was injured. The odds weren’t bad, until one pulled a gun and took aim at Bennett’s chest like he actually knew what he was doing. Bennett was twisting to the side, readying the second knife to throw, when the blast came. The recruit’s body, peppered with holes, was thrown sideways. Spinning to take on the other attacker who was almost upon him, he slowed when Apollo jumped the recruit from behind and tackled him to the ground.

  Silver glinted in the underbrush, aiming for Apollo’s belly.

  Apollo, back! Bennett commanded, jumping between the dog and the recruit. He easily wrestled the knife away and buried it into the recruit’s chest.

  Standing slowly, pivoting toward where the shotgun blast had come from, he stopped when he found Spencer. Her hat had been knocked off, the hair clip had fallen out, and her hair hung in loose waves down around her shoulders and back. She was magnificent, and pointing her trusty shotgun at him.

  Apollo growled, racing to his companion to protect her. The other Guardians were closing in.

  Wait! He didn’t want them revealed yet.

  Spencer swung her head to each side, as if she knew where the hidden shifters were.

  “Do you know these men?” she demanded, holding the barrel tighter.

  “Well, now…” Bennett spoke low and calmly, his bloodied hands in the air, “maybe if you took your aim off me, we could talk.”

  She clearly didn’t want to, but finally lowered the barrel to the ground, still holding it like she was prepared to shoot.

  “Do you know who these men are?” he countered.

  “Of course not,” she said defensively. “I moved out here to avoid the crazies.”

  “And the traps?”

  Panic flashed through her eyes. She gave him a quick once over, eyes lingering on his bullet hole. “You’re injured.”

  “Just a flesh wound,” he lied. It was more than that, but no major arteries were damaged; he’d heal quickly. “Let’s head back to your house. I’ll call my friends to come help clean up.”

  She paled, clearly not liking the idea. “Aren’t you going to call the police?”

  Taking a gamble that she wouldn’t want authorities involved due to whatever she was hiding, he bargained, “I won’t if you won’t.”

  “Did I kill him?” Spencer asked, lifting her gun slightly in the direction of the one she shot.

  Yep. “He’s down for a while. My team will take care of him.” As in burn his body.

  “What were they out here for?”

  Bennett sifted through stories to tell her. “Nothing good, especially for a young woman living alone.” Spencer went ashen, so he chose to elaborate on something just as believable. “Poachers probably, maybe drugs, who knows? They were bad men.”

  She tossed him a dubious look as if she hadn’t decided whether Bennett was one of the good guys or not. Glancing around at the bodies of the recruits, she appeared to struggle with the next step to take. “What about the one in the trap?”

  To give her the impression the recruit in the trap was no threat to her, Bennett shrugged her question off, deciding to go for cover story number two. “My buddies and I were all in the military before we left for less stressful work, but we still have connections. We’ll take care of it. Let’s get back to your house.”

  Ex-military my round bottom. Spencer tromped back toward her house. As far as fake background stories went, there were worse ones. Most people never really thought about what special op guys did after they retired, and finance and real estate wouldn’t likely be questioned. No one assumed a former military badass would hang out working a nine-to-five job, attending PTO meetings.

  Still, she was grateful the other Guardians were going to take care of the bodies. It wasn’t the questions about why the men showed up in her backyard, or about the traps she was worried about. Those could be thrown back at the males. She could use their fake cover story of being ex-military against them, because then they certainly had to have enemies and should understand the traps were to protect a single woman living in the country, working the soil with her hands.

  No, what was making her blood pressure spike was the thought of Bennett in her house. Bleeding. He’d better heal the heck up. Perchance she’d catch a break and he wouldn’t leave the rich, masculine scent of his fresh blood lingering in her domain and the rancid smell of the recruits’ blood would be enough to cover what had already dried on his
pants.

  Taking a deep cleansing breath, she let Apollo in the house and followed him in, letting the door shut in Bennett’s face. It was rude, yeah. He took care of three immediate threats, was arranging clean-up, and she should be grateful, throwing herself at him, asking what she could do for her big, strong man.

  Instead, she was irked he’d ingratiated himself into her life after less than a day, threatening her sanctuary of isolation.

  Not that it was a sanctuary anymore. Maybe those recruits really were looking for the Guardians, trying to gather information. But what if they weren’t? What if they’d found her already? She was sick of running, sick of hiding. This was her chance at finally living, albeit off in secrecy, but with a home. An identity.

  Bennett faced her after entering her house, leaned against her counter, his arms crossed. His natural woodsy scent, mixed with his rich blood, was making her light-headed. Their close proximity, standing together in her mud room, increased her awareness that she was closed within four walls with her mate.

  She needed him to go. “You’d better get back to your place and take care of that wound.”

  “Why, Miss King, aren’t you going to patch me up?”

  Oh lawd, he was trying her patience. She wouldn’t put it past him to drop his drawers so she could tenderly care for his wound. Giving herself a mental snort as a distraction from the realization that he probably didn’t have underwear on, she concentrated instead on her increasing irritation. And hunger.

  “I’m no good with that stuff. I might pass out.” And she would, but not for the reason he thought.

  “We can’t have that.” His voice deepened and she felt his penetrating gaze on every inch of her body. “Then you’d be at my mercy, instead of the other way around.”

  Heat flushed through her and she grew very, very aware this tall, gorgeous male was supposed to be her mate. They were supposed to be at each other’s mercy, over and over and over.

  “So, why were those men out there with guns? Did you make enemies while you were in the service?” She fervently hoped her questions would cut the sexual tension and deflect any assumptions that she was the target.

  She was rewarded with only a slight decrease in intensity from the virile male.

  “I’m sure we did. Any reason they’d be after you?” His scrutiny became even sharper; she resisted the urge to squirm.

  Trying not to outright lie, he’d sense her deceit, she phrased her answer carefully. “I could only guess. But I am alone out in the country, and that’s reason enough for many bad guys. I would think you and your friends were the most likely target.”

  “Uh-huh.” Well, he didn’t buy it, but maybe he’d drop it. “Why the traps?”

  Shoot. “Again, single woman out in the country. I can’t chance an animal attack, and I can’t fence the whole property.”

  “Uh-huh. There is a numerous amount of traps.”

  “I have a lot of land. When I get my gardens in, I can put in ones for rabbits, and put up deer fences. I’ll be getting some cats, too.”

  “What about Apollo?”

  “Who?”

  “Cuddles,” Bennett’s voice practically dripped with distain. “There’s no way I’m calling him that. Aren’t the traps a safety hazard for him?”

  Spencer rolled her eyes. Men. “He gives them a good sniff, and he’s with me when I set them up. He’ll be fine. You should go take care of your wound.”

  They were at an impasse and he wasn’t budging. His blood was going to drive her insane. Her heart pounded with each beat, her vision going double. It wouldn’t be long before she attacked him. Sliding past him without touching him, she opened the door.

  “I’m not feeling well.” She didn’t have to lie about that one. “I need to rest after today’s excitement.”

  Bennett’s jaw clenched, his intense gaze still on her. With predatory grace, he moved in front of her where she was holding the door open.

  “I’ll come check on you later,” he murmured quietly. He towered over her so she had to crane her head back because she absolutely refused to step back. Honestly, she didn’t know if her body would listen to her brain’s command to put distance between them.

  “No need.” She was trying to be firm, instead she sounded breathless.

  Staring into the deep blue depths of his eyes, neither one of them moved. Not even when he slowly dropped his head down to catch her lips with his own, giving both of them plenty of time to change course.

  It was the first time they touched and it was electric. Her lips tingled where his touched. The pressure increased, now his hands were on her, settling on her hips, drawing her in close. She let go of the door and grabbed his t-shirt, twisting her hands in the warmth of the material.

  His tongue swept across the seam of her lips, coaxing them open. She greedily accepted him. His scent surrounded her, amplifying his male, virile flavor. A shower would wait, at the very least, this shirt she wore that’s been smashed into him wouldn’t get washed. Golly, how her loneliness sunk in when she plotted how to retain his smell long after he left. She didn’t know how much time passed while they stood there kissing, reveling in the taste of each other.

  Abruptly, he broke away, stepping back and looking horrified, before he stumbled out the door at a near run.

  Mind blank, the decadent taste of him still on her tongue, she watched the dust cloud kicked up as he drove away.

  Chapter Four

  “Dude, quit being a pussy.”

  Mercury was an asshole. Bennett ground his teeth together and flipped off his partner. Their functioning emergency doctor, Garreth, was extracting the bullet with what felt like a pair kitchen tongs. The pain was a welcome diversion from the haze of lust and dismay he’d been in when he arrived.

  Mercury came to brief him, while Commander Fitzsimmons had a nice little chat with the recruit from the trap. The other bodies were smoldering in their fire pit, but the marshmallows would have to wait.

  “There we are.” Doc Garreth flung the bullet in the garbage. He set about wiping off Bennett’s leg and slapping a bandage on while he gave instructions. “Drink water, have a big steak, and leave the bandage on for at least a few hours so you don’t bleed all down your leg.”

  “See ya, Doc. Thanks.” Bennett trashed his pants and threw on one of the many pairs of shorts stashed around the lodge, handy with injuries and the after-shift nakedness.

  Giving a little wave as he hobbled out with Mercury, Bennett mused how his leg had hurt less when he showed up than it did after he was treated. Doc Garreth was indispensable, though. Before Mercury rescued him from Sigma’s compound, the Guardians did their own down and dirty emergency surgery. The pain might be the same, but recovery was now faster.

  “Any info yet? Or are you just following me because you like my ass in these shorts?” Bennett asked Mercury, heading to the kitchen. Missing lunch and losing blood were making him cranky. It had nothing to do with the scent and flavor of his luscious little mate lingering on his lips and his clothing.

  “You have a nice ass, but I’m following you because I want to know what’s wrong.”

  “What’s wrong is her.”

  Entering the kitchen, he went straight for the fridge to dig meat out.

  “It’s your turn to cook tonight,” Mercury informed him, folding his arms over his chest, watching Bennett.

  Fuck! He forgot. Growling, he dug out more steak.

  “Spill it.” Mercury wasn’t going to give up.

  “I kissed her.”

  “No way!”

  Mercury’s shocked expression made Bennett feel better. He knew his friend would understand. He hadn’t kissed anyone since Abigail. She had ruined intimacy for him. Hell, ruined women. They were of no use to him except to scratch the itch. He turned on the charm to lure them in and then let them go after he got what he needed. No drama, no fuss.

  Mercury jumped in to help prepare the meal, probably taking pity on Bennett hobbling around, wanting to t
alk with him more before the others showed up to eat.

  “She’s not Abigail.”

  “No shit. Abigail wouldn’t have picked up a gun, much less blown someone away.”

  Spencer had saved his ass. Sure, he would’ve recovered from another bullet wound, after his team dragged his sorry butt out of there. But then to her, he would’ve been dead. He wasn’t going to examine his feelings too closely at the possibility of having to stay away from her, or even worse, tell her what he really was.

  “Just sayin’,” Mercury said. “Might not be a bad thing that Spencer can do that.”

  “She’s hiding something and we don’t know who she is.” Bennett didn’t want to entertain the idea of actually taking this mating business seriously.

  “Well, proceed with caution. But don’t write her off because she’s human.”

  “Do you charge per hour, Dr. Phil?”

  “You’re a dick. Want me to throw her in the holding cell like you did with Dani?”

  Bennett growled at the idea. Mercury was making a point, and yeah, maybe he did that to the male’s mate, but he had good reason thinking she was a Sigma Agent at the time.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Bennett ignored Mercury, and after he finished grilling and devouring a couple of steaks, he left to find their young shifter Guardian, Parrish. Mercury had rescued him from Madame G’s clutches several months ago, at the same time he broke Doc Garreth out, but the male still didn’t talk. Bennett could go for hanging out with a mute right about now.

  In the game room, sitting in front of the Xbox as usual, Parrish was absorbed in a Call of Duty mission. Perfect. Grabbing a controller, Bennett flopped on the couch next to the pale-haired male who automatically set up a two-player game so they could both get their kill on.

  After an hour, or three, Parrish abruptly stopped the game. Without turning to Bennett, he signed, You need to go to that club.

  “Pale Moonlight?”

  Maybe Parrish heard about the club from the Guardians, but he certainly wasn’t old enough to visit. It was the last place Bennett wanted to hang out right now, even though it should be the first place he went full of so much emotional turmoil. “Why?”

 

‹ Prev