The Wife Protectors: Giles (Six Men of Alaska Book 2)

by Charlie Hart

  “But she didn’t want that,” I say, softly, my finger tracing the lines on his palm. “She only wanted you.”

  Giles nods then runs a hand over his thick beard. “We sent her there. And before the drawing, she ran away, saying she was coming back for me.” He presses his fingers to his eyes, keeping the tears at bay. “She was found dead. Raped and murdered.” He clenches his jaw. “A goddamn fucking waste.”

  “Oh, Giles.”

  “I’ve never told anyone this, and hell, I can’t really believe I’m telling you now, but coming here, to the cabin, it’s like digging up a part of my past I thought I had buried.”

  “Is it odd, being so close to Fallon and sharing me?”

  Giles laces our fingers together. “The odd part is that we both put our name in at all. We’d both sworn to hell and back we’d never enter, it held too many painful memories.”

  “I know what changed Fal’s mind, but what about you?”

  He drops his head, shaking it as if ashamed. “I was living in the barracks, my life meant nothing more than putting in my hours. Collecting leave for time off for a life I didn’t have. I was lonely.”

  I pull up his chin with the crook of my finger. Our eyes meet and I see myself falling for him in a way I didn’t think was possible.

  “You’re not alone anymore, Giles.”

  He pulls me into his lap, our foreheads pressed together, our hearts beating so damn hard. “Thank god for that.”

  Chapter 6

  Giles

  We fall asleep in the small bedroom, not fucking, just wrapped around one another. Her holding me, mostly. I may be a burly mountain man by all accounts, but with Tia, I feel soft in a way I never have. She said it best. With her, I am vulnerable. With her, cradled in my arms, the longest winter is over.

  The sound of a cabin door creaking open wakes us. I immediately jump from the bed and grab the rifle I’ve stowed at my feet. Tia stirs, and I press a finger to my lips, telling her to be quiet. Her face is stricken with fear though, and I hate to put her through any more agony.

  When I step from the room, I point the barrel of the gun at the intruder. “Stop, don’t move,” I say, my voice cold and clear.

  “What the fuck, man,” Fallon shouts, moving his hands above his head, holding a handgun.

  “Shit,” I drop my hands to my knees, adrenaline still coursing my veins. “Fucking, hell.”

  “Jesus. This is where you’ve been? We thought you were dead.” He drops his hands, pocketing his gun, and then walks over and clapping me on the back hard, relief etched on his face. We give one another a brief embrace. Hell, he looks wrecked over the idea that I was dead. Being here, in this cabin has reminded me more than ever that we were like brothers, for so damn long.

  Dark circles shadow bloodshot eyes. He looks exhausted.

  “We only made it because I knew we were close to the cabin, otherwise we’d have frozen to death.”

  “We?” Shock flashes in his gaze. “You found her?”

  Tia comes around the corner, she’s only wearing a shirt, and I see Fallon’s eyes graze over her bare legs, and for a second, I think we might gloss over what happened without a fight - but this is Fallon we’re talking about. He never drops anything.

  Fallon doesn’t hold back. “Are you fucking insane?” he cries, his anger directed at our wife. “Leaving in the middle of the night. Running from us... I thought... My God, Tia...”

  He’s too caught up in his anger to see the way her skin has gone clammy, and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. I know she feels guilty for leaving. I still don’t really know what possessed her to run away, but I know it wasn’t because she wanted to.

  She keeps her head down, her hair falling over her left cheek and hiding the bruise there, the small cut on her lip.

  “I thought you were happy.” Fallon drags his hands over his face, then back through his hair. “Are things with us really that bad that you’d risk your life?”

  “Fallon,” I warn. “We’ve been through hell and back. Look at her and be grateful she’s alive.”

  He does then. His eyes travel over her body, and I know when he sees the bruises, the split lip because fear replaces his anger. “What happened?”

  She takes a small step back when he stalks towards her.

  “Did someone...” He reaches out and brushes her hair back, exposing the deep green and blue bruise that has only grown worse over the last twenty-four hours. “Shit.”

  “I... I’m okay,” she stutters, taking another step back, and stumbling.

  I’m there, pulling her into my arms just as her knees begin to buckle. I cradle her head against my chest. She lets out a deep, soul-piercing sob, one that comes from the very pit of her stomach.

  We may have spent last night visiting my past, but her present is a mess. She killed a man a day ago and that reality doesn’t disappear with a few heart-to-hearts around the fire.

  And maybe she’s managed to process it with me, but she has five other husbands with questions.

  Husbands who will want answers.

  The cabin goes silent, except for the small hiccups that come from her as she tries to bite back her tears.

  Fallon holds my gaze, searching, demanding with his eyes that I tell him what happened, and seeing all the conclusions he comes to.

  “I got there in time,” I say to him.

  He lets out a long breath and rubs both hands over the back of his neck. There’s relief in his eyes, but memories too. The last twenty-four hours have been a brutal reminder of what we’ve lost, and what we can still lose.

  “Look, Fallon, we need to come up with a plan. People are going to start asking questions.”

  Fallon’s eyes narrow. “What kind of questions?”

  I glance down at Tia, tilting her chin up, and giving her a small smile. “Why don’t you go get dressed.”

  She nods, casting a nervous look at Fallon before disappearing into the other room.

  “What aren’t you telling me? I found your truck a few miles north of the compound. The tires were slashed, and there was blood...a lot of it.”

  “Wasn’t mine.” I run a hand over my beard, glad Tia isn’t here to have to rehash the whole ordeal. “She was attacked on the road by three men. They had her in their truck when I caught up with them. They pulled a gun on me when I asked to see in their vehicle.”

  “Shit.”

  “They probably would have shot me if Tia hadn’t...”

  “Hadn’t what?”

  “She must’ve found a gun in their truck. I don’t think she even knew how to use the damn thing.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “She shot him. Mortal wound to the chest. Died at her feet.”

  Fallon mutters a string of curses. “And the other two?”

  “I fought them off, but they got away.”

  He curses under his breath. “And the body?”

  “It wasn’t by my SUV?”

  Fallon shakes his head.

  “Then either the authorities took it, or they came back.”

  “Either way, there’ll be trouble.”

  I let out a long, uneven breath before breaking the worst of it, “They were mercenaries.”

  It takes a second for Fallon to clue into the seriousness of what that means. If Tia had shot a civilian in self-defense, it wouldn’t be as serious an issue. But protected under Universal law, even I would face charges if I’d been the one to shoot a mercenary.

  Was it fair? Hell, no. But it’s the way things are now.

  “If they go to the authorities...” Fallon starts pacing, echoing my thoughts. “We can’t protect her from the law. She broke curfew. Was out alone. And she ran. Those charges alone are enough to have her sentenced to…”

  We both go silent as Tia comes around the corner. I know from the look in her eyes that she heard every word we said. Her expression is blank, gaze gone distant, like she’s accepted her fate.

  “We need to get her to a safe house,” I say. “They
can’t do anything to her if they can’t find her. We’re safe here for a few days, maybe. But once they know we’re missing, it won’t take them long to find this place.”

  “You and I both know what happens to people who run,” he says, not meeting her eyes, even though the comment is directed at her.

  He’s still angry, and he has every right to be, but right now she needs our strength, not our judgment.

  “Then what’s your plan?” I ask.

  “We go home.” Fallon locks gazes with me, and I see there’s no movement. It’s his final decision.

  “If we go home, and they come for her, we won’t be able to stop them.”

  “Yes, we will.” There’s determination in his eyes.

  I frown at him.

  “It’s their word against ours.” He holds my gaze; his look is hard.

  I shake my head. “Someone had to pull the trigger-”

  “Exactly... someone.”

  The silence stretches between us, and I know what he means. I should have thought of it myself.

  Tia frowns at us. “What are you talking about?”

  “Only one person can be held responsible for that man’s death.”

  “Me,” she says, her voice small. “I’m the one that killed him. I deserve whatever punishment I’m given. I shouldn’t have run. It’s my fault. If I hadn’t...” The word gets stuck in her throat.

  I’m about to comfort her, but I see the war going on in Fallon’s eyes, and when he looks at me, I nod for him to go to her.

  He does. Two swift steps and his arms are around her small frame, and I watch her melt against him. She doesn’t cry. Not like she did with me. She just sucks up his strength.

  What they have is special. Not better or worse than our relationship.

  Just... different.

  He cups her chin and forces her to look at him. “You shouldn’t have run. I don’t know why you did-”

  “I was-”

  “It doesn’t matter right now. I swore to protect you. No matter how stubborn and defiant you are. And I’d do it even if I hadn’t taken a vow. Because I love you.”

  She pulls in a breath and tears fall then. “I love you too. I’m so sorry…”

  He kisses her softly, and with more tenderness than I’d ever give him credit for.

  I turn away, giving them a moment.

  When they finally pull apart, Fallon says, “It’s possible nothing will come of it. Even mercenaries have rules. If they come forward, they’ll have to own up to trying to abduct you.”

  I give him a side glance, wondering if he really believes what he’s telling her, and I see in the way his jaw twitches and his temple pulses that he doesn’t.

  He glances over at me, and I nod. We both know what needs to be done. And if that means making Tia believe that everything will be okay, then that’s what we’ll have to do.

  Chapter 7

  Tia

  Fallon left his truck back on the highway with Giles’ vehicle, which means another long, freezing walk through ice and snow. I’m still weak and shaken, but I refuse to let either of them carry me.

  “You okay?” Giles asks, walking beside me, his warm breath creating a puff of smoke in the frigid air.

  “Ju-us-st co-old.” My teeth chatter with my words.

  “I know. We’ve only got about another five minutes and then you’ll be in a warm truck.”

  Fallon adds, “And I packed a blanket in my backpack for once we’re there. Just imagine that around you for the next quarter of a mile, okay?”

  I give him a forced smile and nod.

  There’s a howl in the distance, followed by an echo of yowling that seems way to close for my liking. Both Fallon and Giles stop, listening.

  I catch the look they give each other.

  “What is it?”

  “Wolves,” Giles says.

  “I thought they slept during the day.”

  “They do,” Fallon says, frowning.

  “That didn’t sound like they were sleeping,” I say lightly, despite the anxiety that presses against my chest.

  Both Giles and Fallon pull out their guns.

  My eyes widen. “You think they’ll attack us?”

  “If they’re hungry enough,” Giles says. “Stay between us.”

  We start walking again.

  The crunch of our boots in the snow, a branch cracking beneath a foot, the caw of a bird high in a tree, every sound puts me on high alert. I hadn’t even considered the dangers of the wildlife deep in the woods.

  “Are there a lot of wolves out here?”

  “The packs move around. Haven’t seen many in the past ten years in this area, but they may have moved if they couldn’t find food.”

  “What other animals are out here?”

  Giles smiles down at me, then glances around. “Depends on the time of the year, but you’ll see deer, bison, moose, bears-”

  “Bears,” I gasp.

  Giles chuckles. “Mostly black bears around here, but sometimes grizzlies, and the odd polar bear, but they don’t usually travel this far inland.”

  “I’d love to see a polar bear and penguins. I’ve only ever read about them.”

  “Quiet,” Fallon growls out in a low whisper, raising his gun.

  Giles immediately does the same. I tense, feeling vulnerable without a weapon of my own. Then I remember the gun in my hand, the shot when I pulled the trigger. The dead man at my feet. My body recoils and I’m grateful that I’m not holding a lethal weapon. I’m not ready to feel the cold steel against my skin again.

  “Nine o’clock,” Fallon says.

  “Shit,” Giles mutters.

  My eyes dart, trying to see what they see. “What?”

  “Wolf.” Giles’ nostrils flare.

  I glance around, but I still don’t see anything but snow and trees.

  “Stay still,” Fallon warns.

  I’ve never seen a wolf before, but I’ve read about them, and I know why the term lone wolf is an oxymoron. They travel in packs, almost always. If there’s one, then there’s sure to be others close by.

  “How many bullets do you have?” Fallon asks Giles.

  I see Giles close his eyes briefly like he’s counting. “Two, maybe three.”

  “You’re going to have to make them count.”

  It’s then I see the flash of teeth, the glow of eyes in the shadows. Two sets. And a low growl comes from somewhere behind me.

  I turn and let out a small squeal. Ears pressed against its head, fangs bared, the animal takes slow, predatory steps towards us.

  “Giles,” I gasp.

  He turns, and without hesitation pulls the trigger. The wolf lets out a heart-wrenching howl as it flies back against a snow-covered log, blood coating its white fur.

  All hell breaks loose as two more wolves jump from the tree line and another one behind us. All ready to make us pay for the wolf Giles shot.

  Two of the wolves storm toward Fallon, and I watch him run with all his might to head them off. He shouts as he runs, then fires his gun at the wolves, his face filled with fury.

  Shots ring out. One after another. The wolves move too fast for him to hit his target and his bullets are gone.

  “Fuck,” he screams, the wolves sensing his fear, begin to circle him.

  The third wolf isn’t so cautious. He leaps for Giles, pouncing on him and forcing him to fall backward into the snow. His gun falls from his hand and he reaches for it, as the animal snarls and snaps at him.

  I stand numb and useless, watching them pay once again for my foolishness. I have no gun, no way to defend myself. No way to help them.

  Looking around desperately, I see a large branch a couple of feet away. I move quickly to pick it up, knowing it won’t do much, but it’s better than standing here unarmed.

  Giles wraps his large arms around the body of the wolf, wrestling with it, as it presses its paws against his chest. It’s clear Giles has been trained for attacks, his body moves swiftly, his focus
steady as he fights to keep the sharp fangs from tearing into him. The wolf’s savage eyes tell me he won’t back down without a fight.

  Neither will my husband.

  But even with all of Giles’ brute strength, for all our joking last night about him being my beast—he is still a man— not an animal on the hunt, starved and ready to eat.

  Giles tosses the animal against a fallen tree, but it’s only momentarily stunned. It shakes its head, then crouches low, ready to attack again.

  “Stay back,” Giles screams.

  I keep my branch hoisted like a bat, ready to swing at the animal if it comes near me.

  The other two wolves still circle Fallon and they look less feral than the one focused on Giles.

  It attacks again, its movement quick, precise, and despite Giles’ swift actions, the wolf’s teeth bite into his leg, snapping down hard.

  I recoil at the sound, falling to the snow, my hands covering my mouth as I hold back a scream, not wanting to draw attention to myself.

  Giles kicks it away, and Fallon stands a few yards from him, moving in circles with the other two wolves to keep them at bay. Fallon shouts at Giles to move back, but it’s obvious it isn’t so easy. Giles kicks at the wolf who still has his calf in his jaws. With one heavy boot to the face, Giles manages to release himself. The animal yelps and falls back.

  The snow now red with blood and Giles’ pants are shredded where the animal attacked him.

  Bile rises in my throat. I can’t lose him.

  The gun is still too far for him to reach.

  Despite his warning to stay back, I lunge for it. The wolf’s head turns in my direction and it snarls.

  “Tia,” Giles’ shouts.

  “Here.” I toss him the gun, knowing that throwing a loaded weapon isn’t the smartest idea, but if I don’t, the animal will attack again, and I can see Giles’ strength is slipping away.

  He catches it, but he isn’t fast enough to fire. The wolf lunges again, biting down on his arm, forcing a howl to escape from the mouth of my beloved.

  Is that what this is? Love? Because at this moment, as blood pours from Giles’ arm all I see are flashes of what a life shared with him could have been. Tender kisses and long talks and neither of us alone, ever again.