by Jane Jamison
Davey let out a squeal when the cat whose tail he’d caught whirled around and swiped at him. As far as he could tell, the cat hadn’t scratched him deep enough to draw blood. He resisted the urge to comfort his son. Davey would have to get used to a lot more than a few cat scratches soon enough.
“She never told him what you are, did she? Or what he is?”
“She was waiting for him to get closer to puberty. Plus, she figured it should be my job to tell him.”
Davey would find out what he was early on in his childhood. How could he not when everyone around him was a shifter? Living with other tiger-shifters meant seeing them change. Like Braden, he’d grown up with the knowledge that they were different from most of the outside world.
“He’ll figure it out soon enough once he goes to school.” Davey, like the other kids in Twisted, would attend the local school until he was ready to get bussed to the county high school. By then, he’d know how to control his inner tiger.
“Yeah, I know. I don’t want him to find out the first time his teacher shifts.”
Twisted, Texas was a shifter town. Being small, it didn’t get many new citizens. Other than those born into the community, Davey was the first new resident in over two years. The others were primarily new mates of current citizens. Although there were a few humans mixed in with the shifters, most of the people were either white tigers or black panthers. The tigers and panthers got along well enough. Whenever outsiders threatened either side, they banded together. Especially when those outsiders were the werewolves of Forever, Texas, or the werebears from Shatland. The fur would fly then.
“Then you’ll have to tell him soon.” Braden sounded as though he wasn’t worried about it, but Heath knew better.
“I will. When the time’s right.”
He crossed his arms, letting pride wash over him. His son was a handsome kid with the same golden hair he had. When Davey finally shifted, his blond hair would lighten, going silky white to make a rich-looking fur. His eyes shone with the same sky-blue color of his father’s eyes. Until Becky had shown up with his son, he would’ve never believed he could love another person as much as he did Davey.
The sun would set soon, ending another beautiful fall day. Soon, they’d have dinner and later, he’d put his son to bed. Then, as they had so often in the past months, they’d talk about their mate. Suddenly, however, he needed to talk about her right then.
“Should we give Austin another try?” He heard Braden stand and come up behind him. Talking about the “mate that got away” was both comforting and upsetting. They were comforted to know they’d met their mate, but upset to realize they may have lost her in the very same night they’d first laid eyes on her.
“We’ve got the private investigator on the job.”
They’d tried searching for her, but had always come up with nothing more than they already knew. She’d been there with a bachelorette party, but no one had any way of finding the would-be bride. No credit cards, no nothing. It was as though their mate had disappeared into the night.
“I know he’s doing his best, but he’s not getting anywhere.” As much as he wanted to go look for her, he’d become increasingly convinced that she was no longer in Austin. If she wasn’t, then the chances of locating her were even worse.
“He’s doing more than we could. Give it more time. I’ve got to believe the connection will bring us together again.”
“And what if it doesn’t?” He didn’t like asking the question, yet he couldn’t help bringing it up whenever they talked about her.
“Have some faith, man. I can’t believe it’ll go any other way.”
Usually, he was the optimist. But not when it came to finding their mate again. And he didn’t think Braden really was, either. His brother was putting on a brave face, maybe trying to convince himself as much as Heath.
“But we found her. That’s more than some can say.” Braden laughed at Davey pretending to be an airplane.
“Yeah.” And then they’d lost her. All in less than an hour.
Some shifters never found their mate. Never experienced the amazing physical and mental energy that the connection between mates brought. He’d felt it as they’d captured her between them and Braden had gotten an even bigger power rushing through him. If he hadn’t gotten the phone call telling him about Becky, their mate would already be living on the ranch.
The tiger inside him rushed toward the surface, clawing, scratching, demanding to be set free. Like other shifters, he could control his tiger, choosing the time and place the beast could come out, but the longer he kept the animal locked inside him, the harder it became to ignore the urge to change.
Since Davey’s arrival, they’d curtailed their nightly runs, preferring to stick at home for the boy’s sake. But the tiger had gotten a whiff of its fated mate and wanted out to search for her. Each day without her made it harder for him to keep the beast in check.
“Don’t give up. We’ll find her again.”
He hoped Braden was right. Until then, he’d have to keep things under control. “I sure as hell hope so.”
“Until then, though, we need a good run. It’s been way too long. Have you talked to Mrs. Rillerton?”
Mrs. Rillerton was the first choice in babysitting in Twisted. Although human, she had a way of getting young shifters to settle down. Some often joked that she was a witch who could put a spell on the children.
“I did and she’s set for later night. If you think he’ll be okay with her.”
“He should be.” Yet the idea of leaving his son to go for a run worried him. Heath hated the idea of not being there to soothe Davey if he had one of his nightmares. Still, if they didn’t let their tigers go free, stretching their long limbs in a wild romp soon, worse things than not being there to comfort Davey could happen.
“She’s going to come after dinner and be with him for an hour before I put him to bed so he can get to know her and get comfortable with her. That way, if he wakes up, he won’t be waking up with a stranger.”
Braden clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re a good dad. Don’t ever think you’re not.”
“Thanks. I’m trying.” He appreciated his brother saying as much. Having missed so much of Davey’s life tortured him. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but it didn’t stop the guilt from swamping him whenever he thought about his young son starting life without his father.
“Let’s get the kid some lunch.”
“I’ll handle his bath later if you’ll cook both lunch and dinner.” Heath grinned, knowing how much his brother hated to cook. Braden would rather clean out stalls than toss a few chicken breasts in a pan.
“Fuck, okay. But just this once.”
“Language, man. The kid’s got sensitive hearing like us.” He waved for Davey to come to him.
“Sorry. Sometimes I forget he’s one of us.” Braden stalked into the house.
The cute blond boy dashed over to his father. He threw his arms around Heath’s legs, hugging him as hard as he could. Glancing up adoringly at Heath, his eyes flashed with specks of amber.
He’s one of us, all right.
Chapter Three
After escaping from Frank, Kylie drove back to her apartment as fast as she could, then grabbed her suitcase she kept packed for an emergency. Her friends had teased her about keeping a suitcase full of clothes and an envelope of money, but she’d always believed in being prepared for any eventuality. She had a weather alert radio, emergency food rations, and a first aid kit, too. She was ready to hunker down or take flight depending on the situation. Whether it was a tornado, an ice storm, or any other disaster, she was equipped to handle it.
But was she ready for her boyfriend to turn into a murderer? Not so much.
She was back in the car in less than five minutes and heading out of the apartment parking lot. Stopped at the red light down the street, she looked into her rearview mirror and saw Frank’s luxury sedan pull into the complex.
“Come on, light, change.”
It wouldn’t take Frank long to figure out she was gone. He’d see that her car wasn’t in her parking spot. If he busted down her door, he’d check and find out that the emergency suitcase was no longer in her closet.
The light finally turned green, and she floored it. If she was pulled over by a policeman, then she’d take his intervention as a sign. She’d tell the officer about the murder then let him take her to the precinct. Maybe if she was lucky, they could get her into the Witness Protection Program before nightfall.
Yet unless she saw a sign from the Universe telling her she was supposed to squeal on Frank, she’d get out of town as fast and as far away as she could. She’d seen too many crime shows to put her life in the care of the police. She’d rather take her chances on her own.
Get out of town and find a place where Frank will never find me.
Her plan wasn’t much, but what little she had sounded good to her.
Her car sped down the highway out of Wichita, heading south on I-35. She hit the speed limit, put on the cruise control, and let her mind tackle the next steps.
Where would she go? Would blending into a large city be a better bet than hiding out in a small town? She’d have to give up teaching. Frank could find out through a school district’s records if any new teachers had been hired.
My kids.
Her vision blurred thinking about her class full of amazing students. They were her favorite group since she’d started teaching. And now she was abandoning them. They’d probably hire a long-term substitute to take her place. One who wouldn’t know how special they were.
But she couldn’t think about her students now. Showing up at the school on Monday would be foolish and put their lives in danger, too. They were better off with her gone.
How did this happen to me?
How could she have not known what Frank was? And yet, when they’d first met online almost a year earlier, she’d thought he was one of the nicest and kindest men she’d ever met. He’d treated her like she was a princess, lavishing her with gifts and taking her on trips she never could’ve afforded. She’d even believed at one time that she’d found the man of her dreams.
But slowly he’d changed. He’d insisted on rougher sex. At first, she’d liked getting tied up and spanked. The BDSM thing was exciting, something out of a movie or a romance book. But when she’d started saying no to other sexual acts he wanted to do, he’d grown angry.
She should’ve ended it with him then. But he’d apologize, blaming his change of attitude on the stress of his business.
Well, hell, yeah. I guess being a hit man could get stressful.
She laughed, but there was no real mirth in the tone. He was a dangerous man, and she’d let him into her life. Trusting him, she’d told him things she’d never told anyone else. Like how her father had committed suicide when she was still an infant. He’d let her cry on his shoulder when her shih tzu had died in his sleep. But he’d changed since then. Or had the real him finally surfaced?
Had he really ever cared for her? Or had he insinuated himself into her life, planning to control and dominate her?
She had to stay one step ahead of him. Did he have friends on the police force? Did he have informants? Judging from what he’d said and from the casual attitude toward killing a man in cold blood, he’d murdered before. Was he part of an organization? Would he have hit men to help him? Friends who would do whatever he asked to find her?
Think. Where can I go? What can I do?
She ran through the possibilities. Credit card statements were on the desk in her bedroom office. She’d have to toss the cards and forget about charging anything. The hundred dollars she had in her emergency suitcase would have to last her a long time.
What else?
He knew where she banked. Could he tap in to her bank accounts? Not that he’d find much.
She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Realization flooded into her, frightening her with the knowledge that she’d been more foolish than she’d first believed.
He gave me the car.
Shit.
She knew it was wrong, but she’d accepted the gift of the Fiat anyway. Her old car had gone wheels up a month earlier, and after hitching rides with other teachers, she was fed up with not having a car. Worse, she couldn’t afford to put a down payment on a used car, much less a cute new one like the Fiat. And so, she’d gratefully accepted the car, promising to pay him back when she could.
Frank knew her car inside and out, including the license plate number.
Way to go, Kylie. You should’ve listened to your mother.
She glanced toward the heavens. Was her mother watching? “You were right, Mom. Never take expensive gifts from a man.”
It was a horrible thought, but she couldn’t help but think she was glad her mother hadn’t lived to see how foolish she’d been. “Mom, I could sure use some help. Maybe you could talk an angel into coming down and smiting Frank? Tell God I swear I’ve learned my lesson.”
She waited, hoping for a sign that would prove her mother was listening. When nothing happened, she resigned herself to solving her problem alone.
I need to get rid of Sophie.
She’d named her Fiat after the movie star, Sophia Loren. To get rid of her would hurt like hell, but it was the smart thing to do. She quickly ran through her options. She could try to sell it to an individual, but it would take too long. Selling the car to a dealership would be faster, but it would leave a paper trail. She had to avoid giving Frank a hint as to what direction she’d gone.
The last option was the only one that made any sense. She’d have to abandon Sophie.
Shit.
By the time she’d made it into the next town and found a bus depot, she was crying again. In the space of a couple of hours, her life had been tossed upside down.
She pulled into the bus parking lot, then tugged her suitcase out of the trunk. “Good-bye, Sophie. I hope someone nice finds you.” Taking the car key off her key chain, she placed it on the visor then closed the door. Keeping her head held high, she walked into the depot.
* * * *
Kylie woke with a start. At first, she couldn’t remember why she was on a bus, but the horror of the past few hours came rushing back hitting her in the stomach.
Frank’s a killer.
As often as she thought it, she still couldn’t get her head around the idea. He’d murdered an unarmed man, and now she was paying the price for having seen him do it.
“Are you all right, honey?” The grandmotherly type in the seat across from her lifted her eyebrows in question. Her brown skin was weathered, and laugh lines radiated outward to frame her eyes. Gray-blue hair remained stiffly in place when she moved. “You fell asleep. I tried waking you when we came to the first stop on the line, but you were out cold. I hope you weren’t supposed to get off at Oklahoma City. We’re already past Wichita Falls and headed west toward Lubbock.”
She’d slept for hours. But where was she going? She’d gotten on the first bus out of town and hadn’t even asked its destination. “Oklahoma City? No. Not there. Or Wichita Falls.” Neither city was far enough away.
Although the older African-American woman looked like she couldn’t lift a wet Yorkie, she had a glint in her eyes that spoke of an underlying strength. “Where are you going, honey?”
Kylie held back the urge to ask her why she wanted to know. Had Frank turned her into a distrusting person? Was she being paranoid for no reason? After all, the world wasn’t made up of killers.
Murderers. Like Frank.
Panic laced into her, closing her throat.
“Are you all right, honey?”
No. “Yes. Um, I’m not sure where I want to go. I just hopped on the first bus out.” She smiled, trying to make her lame answer sound a little better. “I’m on an adventure.”
It’s an adventure, all right. The adventure of my life. For my life.
“Ooh, isn’t that fun? You’re very brave. I wouldn’t have had the ne
rve to take off and not know where I’m going in a million years.”
“Where are you headed?” Talking about her wasn’t safe. Besides, maybe she’d get an idea of what town to choose. She stuck out her hand. “I’m Lucy Winters.”
Liar, liar. Not only will my pants catch on fire, I’ll go straight to hell for lying to a sweet old lady.
“I’m Lena Fortran.”
Ms. Fortran had a grip on her. Again, it hit Kylie that there was more to the woman than what met the eye. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Fortran.”
“Oh, I’m not a Mrs. anything. I never married.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “At least not legally. And call me Lena. I detest formalities.”
“Why didn’t you get married?” She slammed her mouth shut. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
Lena waved away her apology. “No, you’re fine. It’s good for young people to be curious. To answer your question, I never wanted to get hitched.” She sat back and jutted her chin out. “Oh, I had my fair share of suitors and more. But when I met the two loves of my life, I couldn’t choose between them. Then, after they passed on, I decided to wing it and have fun. I figured that, after being in love with my men, no one else could ever compare.”
Two loves? As in more than one? Ms. F. is a player.
“I understand.”
“Men can be a handful.” Lena gave a girlish giggle.
“Tell me about it. Men can be such assholes.” Again, she closed her mouth in a hurry. “Sorry. I’m sure your men were wonderful.”
“Don’t worry about it, hon. I’ve heard worse. And you’re right. Homer and Elliot were sweet as well as sexy. But, yes, some men can be assholes.” She patted her stationary hair. “As for where I’m headed? I’m going home to a little town called Twisted, Texas.”
“Twisted? Seriously? That’s really the name?”
“It sure is. It’s a skip and a jump from Lubbock. Not much to look at and you won’t find it on any map, but it’s home.” She leaned closer to Kylie. “It’s okay, you know. I understand and you can confide in me.”