Out of the Shadows

by Bethany Shaw

  “Where did you learn all this? Did you take a class?” Lark resumed her stance, feet locked into place.

  Devon wiped his arm across his forehead. “No, I taught myself mostly and learned a little from Rick.”

  “Oh, because of your stepfather?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Not directly, no. He never laid a hand on me, that job was left to his lackeys. That way he could honestly look my mother in the face and tell her he didn’t know what had happened.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t pity me,” Devon growled, he hated when people babied him because he had a troubled past.

  “It’s not pity,” Lark defended. “You’ve obviously overcome it and become a better person. Nobody should have to go through that. It must have been hard.”

  Devon shrugged. “It’s all I’ve known.”

  “So you taught yourself all this, that’s impressive.”

  “Well, it was this or the alternative. I’ve never been one to sit back and do nothing,” Devon said his eyes shifted to the tree line.

  He chose that moment to attack, hoping it would end the conversation. She executed the same move again her elbow connecting with his ribs a little harder this time. Her whole face lit up with a triumphant smile.

  “Good job. It’s getting late; we should get going,” Devon said, motioning toward the pinkish-orange streaks of the setting sun.

  Lark was silent for a long moment as they both gathered their things.

  “We should come out here again tomorrow. I like it, it’s quiet and rustic,” Lark said looking around the grassy terrain.

  “No one comes out here. Most of us prefer to run in the woods. I like the openness, the freedom,” Devon said grabbing a fistful of grass and dropping it on the ground.

  “Your house, is it like the ranch here?”

  “Yeah. The two properties are almost identical. The stream runs through the back of it like it does here, and it has equal parts open grassy terrain and woods. The real difference is the houses. Mine needs a little work.”

  “I’d love to see it sometime,” Lark smiled. The last rays of sun shone brightly in her blonde hair. Loose strands fell from her ponytail into her face. Her sun kissed cheeks glowed, she was magnificent.

  “We could go there, if you wanted.” Devon offered quietly. He wanted to spend time with her, to claim her in every possible way. His inner beast wanted to take her right now in the grass, but he knew she deserved more than that. Still, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out. He wanted to keep her at an arm’s length to protect her. But he swore vanilla still lingered on his lips from their last kiss, even if it had been over two weeks ago.

  Derek had been right when he said she they smelled like each other, her cinnamon-vanilla essence was imbedded into him. Granted this time it was from their close proximity during workouts versus the more intimate encounter they’d shared. Still, his own woodsy scent covered her making her all that more alluring.

  “I would like that.” Lark’s blue eyes shone as she fixed her gaze on his.

  “Tomorrow, or would you rather come here?”

  “Tomorrow is fine,” Lark commented smiling.

  Devon inhaled sharply, a day in his estate where they would truly be alone. He couldn’t pass that up either.

  ***

  It was dark, the blackness spread out indefinitely in front of Lark. The stars and sliver of the moon did little to light the woods. Lark could barely see in front of her. They had to be getting close to the manor, it seemed like they’d been walking forever.

  Lark’s foot caught on a branch. She gasped, crying out in surprise. Her body propelling forward, while the ground rose up to meet her. Warm, strong arms wrapped around her waist, catching her inches from the dirt.

  Devon helped to right her by pulling her up to him, his hard chest pressed against hers. His eyes glowed yellow.

  “Wow,” she whispered stunned by the beauty, unable to tear her gaze away. “I didn’t realize your eyes did that.”

  “It makes walking a little easier,” Devon replied, his warm breath puffing against her cheek.

  Devon looped his arm around her forearm, pulling her close to him. “I’ll help you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lark ignored the tingling that trailed up and down her arm like an electric current. His muscular arm held her firmly but was surprisingly gentle.

  “I think we’re about ten minutes out still,” Devon said.

  “Good, I can’t see a thing. I hope when we make our escape from Emmett’s its daylight. I’m not sure I could run very far blind.”

  “We’ll be there to help you off the property. I don’t know what Daniel will do when everything goes down, but we’ll be at the edge of the property line, before the alarm sounds. Enough men will be there to take out any guards Emmett or the Gulf packs might have.”

  “Can I ask you something?” Lark bit her lip. The question had been bugging her for a while. She should have asked sooner, but had never found the right time.

  “That depends.”

  “Well, you keep referring to them as the Gulf packs. What exactly does that mean?”

  Devon’s grip tightened around her arm as she stumbled yet again. Embarrassment flooded her, she felt like a clumsy clod.

  “The Gulf packs are a network of individual packs that all fall in line under one alpha. Kind of like a business in the corporate world if you will. You have the head honcho then his right hand man, a few beneath him, and so on.”

  “So are these letters I’m planting legitimate?”

  “Yes, we’d have Daniel do it, but none of us trust him. We’re lucky Daniel is trusted enough to have a personal phone so we can communicate with him periodically. It’s the only way we can get information about Emily. Well, at least what he’ll tell us of what is happening in there.”

  “So I’m setting Emmett up?”

  “Yes, you’re the only one who can get in there. Emmett would know if another wolf entered the vicinity. No one would get close enough to plant them. He has too many spies. Even if I trusted Daniel, I wouldn’t want the entirety of our plan resting in his hands. You know you don’t have to do this, Lark.” Devon’s arm tightened as they stepped up and over a fallen log.

  “I know.”

  They fell into a comfortable silence. Devon’s breath whispered against her neck as they moved along the narrowed trail.

  “Shit,” Lark muttered realizing what night it was and that she had made plans for the evening.

  “What?” Devon stiffened next to her.

  Lark sighed, heat creeping across her face.

  “I was supposed to meet Grant at Luigi’s tonight at eight-thirty.”

  “Oh,” Devon snapped.

  “He’s probably called half a dozen times by now. I left my cell in my room.” The sound of his voice already echoed in her head with the multitude of voice mails she was certain she already had from him.

  “What do you see in him anyway?” Devon asked icily.

  Lark wanted to come up with a quick retort, but her mind drew a blank. There was nothing romantic between them. There hadn’t been for a long time even before they broke up. “We’re not dating, just hanging out and getting reacquainted. He was gone for three years. And we were really good friends growing up.”

  “And he sees it that way too?”

  “Yeah,” Lark said instantly, but his question made her wonder. Did Grant want something more? Was she leading him on? Lark wasn’t the type of girl who misled someone on purpose. She had told Grant they were just friends from the get go.

  “That might be what he tells you,” Devon said. “But trust me, he has other things in mind.”

  “Well, what does it matter to you?” Lark fired back. His split personalities were exhausting. Couldn’t he just admit he liked her already, and that he was jealous? His exaggerated disinterest in her at times was infuriating.

  Devon was silent for a long moment. “So you grew up here?”
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  Lark debated pursuing their previous topic or starting off fresh for a long moment.

  “I did. We took a lot of vacations around the world and saw a lot of beautiful places, but there is something about this area. I don’t think I could ever truly leave.”

  “It feels like home,” Devon stated.

  “Exactly.”

  Lark turned her head to see Devon. She could see the outline of him but without the bustling lights of the city she was virtually blind.

  “Have you thought about going back to Guymon? You know if everything works out and you-” she paused trying to think of the right words “-dethrone Emmett?”

  Devon chuckled. “No, I don’t think so. I may have lived there the majority of my life, but this is home for me. This is where I want to be.”

  Lark smiled, relief flooding her. Guymon would be too far away. He might not be at the Harris ranch all the time, but there would always be reasons to stop by his place, or for him to stop in The Cookie Jar.

  “What about you, have you thought about expanding your business?” Devon asked.

  “It’s crossed my mind. The shop is doing so well, but I don’t want to stretch myself too thin. Rick was the one who helped me set everything up. We picked out the space together, he showed me how to do the books and really helped guide me. In the beginning, he did everything but the baking as he showed me the ropes.”

  “For what it’s worth, Lark, I think you could do a franchise if you wanted. You’re a very talented cook.”

  “Thanks,” Lark smiled, her heart fluttered happily.

  The bright white of the porch light came into view and Lark sighed as they neared home. This had been a fun afternoon. Hopefully tomorrow would go just as smoothly.

  Chapter 18

  Walking around Devon’s old farmhouse, Lark admired the beauty of the structure. The house needed some cosmetic work, and it had an old musty smell, but with a little work it would be perfect. The wood floor boards creaked beneath her as she explored the home further.

  “This is yours?” Lark said impressed, trailing her fingers over the oak banister.

  “Yeah, it isn’t much, but it’s mine.”

  “Isn’t much? This is fantastic. You could paint these lower rooms and hang up some new molding along the wall,” Lark smiled as she continued down the hall to a large arched entrance. “Wow, look at this kitchen,” she breathed. It was huge. The appliances were outdated, but with the hardwood floors and spacious laminate counter tops, the potential was there.

  Devon cleared his throat. Lark looked up heat creeping across her face. She may have gotten a little too excited. This was his house, not hers.

  He leaned against the door frame an amused expression on his face.

  “Sorry,” Lark murmured averting her eyes to the floor. Her bag slipped from her shoulder, falling to her elbow. Flustered, she quickly pulled it back up. “Do you have somewhere I can change?” She reprimanded herself. They were here to practice, not have a tour.

  “The bathroom is across the hall, or you can use any of the bedrooms upstairs, except the last one on the right,” Devon responded, pushing off the wall.

  “I’ll just use the bathroom,” she mumbled, brushing past him toward the door closest to the stairs.

  “I’ll meet you back here. We can practice in the basement. It will be cool down there, and it is already kind of set up.”

  “Okay.” Relief flooded her, it was hot today. Yesterday had been in the upper eighties. Today, it was near one hundred - that was Texas for you. Regardless, the heat was excruciating.

  Lark walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. The walls were covered in seashell wall paper. The toilet seat had a clear cover with seashells imbedded into it. I wonder how long it will take him to redo this room. She mused to herself, suppressing a laugh.

  Shaking her thoughts away, she set her bag on the floor. Lark stepped out of her ballet flats and clothes, slipping into her black cotton shorts, grey sports bra and green tank top. Lark leaned into the sink and used the mirror to tuck stray blonde curls back into her ponytail.

  Satisfied with her appearance, she opened the creaky door and peeked into the hallway. Devon stood waiting for her at the end of the hall leaning against the railing of the stairs.

  The black tank top he wore clung to his muscular upper body, his dirty blonde hair was ruffled slightly. She licked her lips, he looked good.

  “Ready?” Lark asked.

  “This way,” Devon said, motioning with his hand.

  Lark followed behind him their feet clomping on the floor boards as they walked to the back of the house to a worn white door. Devon opened the door and led her down the stairs.

  She was expecting it to be dark and dank down here, but the place had been completely redone. It was set up like a mini gym. It was bright and well stocked with top of the line equipment.

  “I spent a lot of time here by myself when I stayed over the summers with Rick. I fixed it up down here.” He ran his fingers over the top of a punching bag, removing a thick layer of dust. “It hasn’t been used in a few years.”

  “So you lived here?”

  “Off and on, I came here when I wanted time to myself,” Devon shrugged. “We should get started.”

  Lark sucked in a deep breath, mentally preparing for the next few hours.

  After their stretches, Devon walked to the corner and pulled some gloves off a table and handed them to her.

  “We can start with the punching bag first. Try these on, they may be a little big, but you don’t want to punch without them.”

  Lark took the black gloves and slipped her hands into them effortlessly. Devon moved to the punching bag, standing behind it.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” Devon said tightening his stance while gripping the bag.

  Lark shifted lightly on her feet before she threw her first punch. The bag shook, chains rattled, and her knuckles exploded with pain. She thrust her other fist forward.

  “How did things go with Grant last night? Was he angry you stood him up?” Devon asked, his eyes focused on something behind her.

  “Okay,” Lark said striking out again. “He was upset, but we rescheduled for Saturday night. I figure if I’m going to go to my doom, I might as well have one last hurrah before I do.”

  Devon scowled at her, and she realized belatedly how that may have sounded.

  “We’re meeting for drinks and going out dancing. I haven’t been out socially in forever,” Lark clarified.

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment. His eyes remained fixated on some foreign object.

  “You know you don’t have to go through with this, right?”

  “I know, but, if something happens to Gene or you, there’s no telling what your stepfather may do to me and Sarah. Then there is Emily, I couldn’t imagine-“

  Devon interrupted. “I appreciate your help. Although, I’ll admit I’m confused why you’re doing all this for someone you barely know.”

  Lark frowned. “It’s the right thing to do. It’s no different than the police, FBI, firemen, paramedics, putting their life on the line for others.”

  “You’re a baker.”

  “True,” Lark said rolling her eyes. “But there are heroes out there who do random acts of kindness for others, for no reason, other than it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Fair enough,” Devon replied, stepping away from the bag. “I’m sure Em will be glad to see you.”

  Lark followed him with her eyes as he came to stand behind her. She inhaled sharply as his hands came to rest on her hips.

  “Make sure your heel comes up when you punch,” Devon’s warm breath whispered against her neck.

  His other hand touched her shoulder, squaring her body.

  “Try again,” he urged.

  Lark tried in vain to focus on the bag and not the heat of his hands searing into her skin. Closing her eyes, she punched. The chain holding the bag up clanked loudly as the sack swayed.


  “Better,” Devon commented. “Try again.”

  She swung out connecting with the bag again. Devon stepped back, and she immediately missed the warmth of his hands.

  “Do you think I’ll be ready?” Lark asked as she waited for the bag to still.

  “I think so. You have a strong spirit. Just remember what we’re doing. A well placed strike is ten times more effective than a sloppy one.”

  “If something happens to me you’ll make sure that Sarah gets someplace safe, right? Sell the bakery, the house, send her somewhere far away.” Lark paused and turned to Devon. This was all for nothing if Sarah wouldn’t be safe.

  “She’ll be taken care of,” Devon placed a hand on her shoulder. “I promise.”

  Lark stared into his eyes seeing the sincerity. That was one thing they had in common, their love for family. There wasn’t anything they wouldn’t do to protect the ones they loved.

  “Thank you.”

  He nodded, his mossy green-blue eyes locked onto her. Her body shifted forward on its own. If something did happen, if plans fell through, she didn’t want to wonder what may have been. Right now she didn’t want to think about the consequences or wonder what would happen after – she wanted to live in the moment, she wanted Devon.

  As if sensing her resolve, Devon tilted his head down capturing her lips. The kiss was rough and full of need. Her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him impossibly close. She wanted – needed - him.

  Devon’s tongue traced along her bottom lip, his teeth biting and sucking. Heat scorched as his hands trailed along her sides.

  Lark groaned when Devon pulled away.

  “Lark-“

  “I know what I’m doing,” Lark kissed him again. “I like you, Devon, and I don’t know what this is, but-“

  Devon cut her off with another searing kiss. Hands on her hips, he pushed her backwards. Her back grazed against the cement wall as his body pressed against hers. His sandy blonde stubble sinfully scratched her chin. Lark let out a throaty moan, enjoying the feel of his strong muscles throbbing beneath her fingers as she traced up and down his back with her hands.

  His lips broke away, kissing down her neck, while her fingers ran through his hair.