“Want her,” the wolf snarled and snapped at his tail when Bull made him move.
“You may want her,” though God knew why. “But I need her.”
They followed her for another few blocks. They watched her stumble and fall and struggle to her feet to continue her journey. The woman wouldn’t quit and as angry as he was at being duped, Bull couldn’t help but admire her tenacity. She really was a spitfire.
When she fell again, he couldn’t take any more. He would carry her back to the motel if he had to, make her eat and bathe and wrap her in something warm. After all, if she died, he’d be shit out of luck. Right? He started forward at a trot, intending to move ahead of her, shift to human, and meet her head on.
That was when the dark car bearing the clinic’s logo stopped beside the woman and two men got out.
Chapter 5
Tommie fell again. Her damn feet felt like they were encased in lead and she no longer had the will or energy to pick them up. Her shuffling gait caught every broken section of sidewalk and each time she stumbled, it was harder to right herself, but she had no choice. She had to keep moving. Sooner or later the big guy would figure out she wasn’t in the shower.
She was still on all fours, bracing her bruised foot against the pavement to heave her body upright, when the car pulled up a little ways behind her. She glanced back at it with the hope that it was only a concerned and kindly driver and not a cop. It was neither.
She was caught and had no strength left to run or resist. She barely had enough to keep steady on her feet.
“We’ve got her,” the orderly said into the phone he held to his ear and then to her, “Come on, honey, it’s past your bedtime and time to go back. A lot of folks have been worried about you. It’s not a good night to be out without your shoes or coat.”
His voice was kind and conversational. She didn’t recognize it as belonging to one of her keepers. It was clear he thought she was just a patient who managed to go walkabout. She wondered briefly what he’d been told and would he believe her if she told him the truth.
She didn’t recognize his partner, either, but she recognized the tone. He wore a security guard’s uniform.
“God damn it, Robbins, quit playing Nancy Nurse and get her in the fucking car. Fucking lunatics,” he muttered as he rounded the hood.
Tommie continued her push up to standing, but her exhausted legs wouldn’t hold her and she staggered forward in an attempt to keep her balance.
The two men shouted at once.
“The bitch is going to run!”
“No! Look out!”
A hand grabbed her shirt, yanked her back, and then it was gone as a great, snarling beast leapt out of the shadows and onto the man holding her. Tommie’s ass hit the ground hard. Her feet scrambled and pushed against the sidewalk, scooting her backward until she was against the brick wall of a building. She reached above her head, grasped the window ledge and hauled herself up.
The dog was huge. Its snarls were frightening and ferocious. It shook the guard like a rag doll and the man screamed with fear. This wasn’t a random attack. The animal must have been trained to protect, because when it finished with the first man, it looked directly at her, frozen against the window, before it turned to the orderly who was moving cautiously backward in the direction of the car.
With a shout of fear, the orderly turned and ran, which was probably a mistake on his part. The animal leapt and the poor orderly never made it to the open car door.
“Go get ‘em, Bruiser.” Tommie’s mouth pulled back into a snarl that matched the dog’s.
She didn’t stay to watch. Shuffling along the wall, she passed the groaning guard who was rolling back and forth in the middle of the street. From the way he was attacked, she was amazed he was still alive.
She slipped into the first narrow opening she found between the buildings and headed for the dimly lit area behind them where deliveries were dropped off and garbage was tossed into big bins. She’d avoided this area before because of the dim lighting and dark shadows. Now, those shadows would provide cover. The men were still out there. When they didn’t return to the clinic, help would come to them. Too weak to run, Tommie needed a place to hide.
Someone or something had tipped a dumpster on its side. It would be the perfect place to hide and rest. Tommie pulled the lid open just enough to crawl inside over the slope of rotting food scraps. She squeaked in fright, right along with the rodents that scurried over and around her and out into the freedom of the night. She squeaked again as something wiggled on top of her head. She shook it sharply and a piece of soggy lettuce leaf fell into her lap, left behind by one of the rats as it made its escape. Another rat scurried past.
“Rats and bats,” she muttered. “I’ve become a fucking freedom fighter for rats and bats.” She slumped against the side of the container. “Everybody’s free but me.”
That would change if she could make it through the night in hiding. She inched herself around until her nose caught the night breeze skimming through the space between battered lid and bin. The smell wasn’t quite as awful there. She could breathe and she could rest. She could use the time to think and plan.
She needed to get to the house she’d inherited upon the death of her parents. She needed food, clothing, and money, but it would be daylight by the time she reached it and she couldn’t be seen looking like this. Haven House was just a few blocks away. Sister to Harbor House, the place across town where she’d worked before she’d been taken away. Tommie had never been there; knew the people only as voices on the phone, but knew they would help her.
It was a place for the homeless to find refuge and they asked few questions. She’d be able to shower, eat, and perhaps trade her oversized clothing for something more suitable. With the change in Stu’s pocket, she might even be able to take the bus.
But all that would have to wait until she was sure the coast was clear.
The moon had risen enough to shine its light over the area within her sight. Though it gave no heat, its soft glow warmed her. It always had. She raised her face to it as if she could invite it into her dark and smelly lair.
She sensed more than heard movement that was larger than rat. She shifted her eyes toward it and eased her breathing.
She thought it was the animal from the street, her canine savior. Under the glow of the moon, his shadow was cast against the brick wall of the building and when Tommie recognized it, her breath stuck in her throat. It wasn’t the animal she expected. It couldn’t be. She closed her eyes and opened them again. The apparition was still there.
Larger than life and clearly defined, the shadow was an exact replica of the one that regularly flickered through her dreams. It was the beast that lay at the root of her mental illness.
Long ago, in the innocence of her childhood, she’d thought that vision was her friend, her companion and protector. Her imaginary friend was the reason she couldn’t get lost. Her friend was the magical granter of her sharp eyesight and acute hearing. She’d even believed it had saved her and her mother’s life.
Later, when its voice became clearer, she recognized it for what it was; a symptom of the schizophrenia that had plagued her for most of her life. Seeing it there, manifested against the wall, frightened her more than anything that had happened over the last few months. It meant that whatever mental stability she’d been able to maintain, was slipping away like sand through her fingers.
“Stay. Wait. Good.”
Well, of course the voice in her head would say that. It recognized a fellow hallucination. The voice and the shadow could keep each other company. They could talk to each other, laugh and tell jokes. Maybe they could fall in love and run away together to live happily ever after in someone else’s head. There wasn’t room enough for all three of them in hers.
Tommie wanted to push the lid up and open and run, run as fast and as far as her legs could carry her. But she couldn’t run, could she? Her legs weren’t going to carry her anywhere
. She could only sit and watch her insanity grow.
The shadow animal raised its head, much as she had done, and pointed its snout toward the sky as if to savor the moonlight on its face. It was a wolf, standing tall and majestic, much larger and fuller than the fleeting shadow of her dream. She wondered if that was symptomatic of her growing insanity. Would the voice in her head grow, too?
“Good wolf. Strong. Like us. Mate,” the voice in her head shouted.
Yep, question asked and answered.
As if it heard, the shadow turned, its head disappearing into the shape of its body. All that remained was an indistinct splotch of darkness against the wall. A chuff of exasperation followed, distinct from the one echoing in her head. A light flashed, so bright it was painful to her dilated eyes. She shut them tightly and turned her head away from her peephole. They flew open again when someone knocked on the dumpster lid as if it was a real door.
“Come on out, spitfire. Don’t make me come in there after you. I’m tired and hungry and more than a little pissed off. That’s not a combination you want to mess with.”
Just her luck. The big guy was back. Tommie pushed her shoulder against the lid. It opened and clanged shut before she could move her body through. She tried again and failed. The lid opened from the outside, exposing jean clad legs and a beat up pair of western style boots. She crawled out, using her hands and arms for support, her legs all but useless.
The big guy slid his hands under her armpits and hoisted her to her feet. He picked something from her hair and dangled it in front of her nose. Another wilted piece of lettuce.
“Not big on vegetables.”
“Very funny,” she wanted to snap, but her body began to sway forward and she couldn’t stop it.
He caught her again beneath her arms, but instead of righting her, he only steadied her until he could rearrange his hands’ positions and lift her into his arms. He sniffed loudly.
“Damn, spitfire. I thought you smelled bad before. I was wrong. This is much worse. Gonna have to start calling you Stinky.”
She was too exhausted to protest. His chest was warm and she was cold. His size and strength were comforting. Tommie slid her arms around his neck and allowed her body to melt into his. Warmth and comfort. Just for a little while.
He walked with purpose and as if she weighed next to nothing, which she knew she practically did. But even next to nothing would become heavy after a while. It didn’t seem to bother him. He just strode on and on. Once, he stopped abruptly and muttered a curse as he stepped sideways into the shelter of a doorway. Without thought, Tommie whimpered at the halt in his steady and lulling gait.
“Shh, baby, it’s all right,” he whispered into her filthy hair. “They won’t see us. They won’t hurt you. I won’t let them. I’ll take care of you and keep you safe.”
“Good. Strong. Like us,” the voice inside her murmured in contentment.
And because Tommie was so, so tired, she didn’t argue with man or voice.
They stopped one more time, just long enough to retrieve the room key from beneath a rock. There was something odd about that and she knew she should question it, but at the moment, all she could handle was keeping herself upright where he’d propped her against the motel wall. When he reached to lift her back into his arms, she objected.
“Thanks, but I’m okay now. I can walk.” As long as she had the building to lean on.
He snorted a laugh and ignored the protest. “Yeah, you can walk about as good as I can fly.”
He carried her into the room, kicked the door closed behind them, and headed straight for the bath. He sat her on the toilet lid and started the shower, then turned and reached for the hem of her shirt to peel it off of her.
Tommie slapped at his hands. “Thanks for the help, but you can leave now. I can bathe myself.”
He raised his hands. “Have it your way.” He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms over his chest and one ankle over the other as if he had all the time in the world. “But I’m not leaving.”
“Why?” Couldn’t he see she’d given up?
Apparently not.
“Because if I leave, one of two things will happen.” He nodded at the window. “If you’re faking exhaustion like you did before, then the minute I leave, you’ll be out the window again. Or if you aren’t faking it, you’ll collapse in the shower and bash your head on the fixtures. Either way, I’ll have another mess to clean up. I don’t like messes.”
“You don’t like messes? What do you call killing those two men?” she asked incredulously.
“Justice,” he said angrily, “Or would you rather I left you to their tender care, because I don’t think the big one was looking to play fetch with the bone he was about to offer.”
Tommie lowered her eyes to the ground. “I promise I won’t run and I’ll take a bath.”
“Sure, because your word is worth so much. Fool me once, little lady, shame on you. Fool me twice? Shame on me. I’m staying right here and you...” He lifted her chin with his finger. “...can have a bath after you rinse the first layer of stench off. Otherwise it’ll be like bathing in a pig sty.”
“But...”
“No buts except yours in that tub. Now, we can do it the easy way, or we can do it the hard way, but it’s gonna get done and I’m not leaving you to do it alone. It’s not like I haven’t seen all there is to see.” He stood, towering over her.
She didn’t need the reminder. “That wasn’t by choice,” she whispered, looking up at him.
“Oh, Jesus. I’m sor...” He shook his head as if he’d made a mistake. Then his tone reverted to hard. “Tough times, but not my problem.”
“Bastard,” she muttered.
He laughed. “Couldn’t be. It doesn’t work that way, or didn’t Mama tell you about the birds and the bees,” he said, which made no sense to Tommie, and then he spread his hands. “So what’s it going to be? You taking it off or am I?”
In the end, it was the big guy who removed her clothes and helped her into the shower. When she bent to remove Stu’s trousers, she almost fell over. She couldn’t stand without hanging onto something. Her legs shook with the effort. She couldn’t lift her foot up over the edge of the tub and when he bent to help she thought he’d lift the leg, but he slid his arm behind her knees and lifted her whole body. It was humiliating to feel so helpless, but so was smelling like a garbage dump.
She hissed when the warm water hit her.
Immediately, his hand went up to deflect the flow. “Too hot?”
“No, it feels good.” So good, in fact, she would gladly sleep under the massaging heat for the next twelve hours. “It’s been so long. Thanks for the help, but I can handle it from here.”
She reached for the curtain and the privacy it offered, but the twist of her body threw her fragile balance off.
Again, his hand was there, supporting her back. “I wasn’t kidding about that head bashing thing.” He gently pushed her forward. “Put your hands against the wall.”
Once she was secure, he peeled his shirt up over his head and unzipped his jeans.
“Excuse me?” Tommie asked, when she saw his intent, “I don’t think so. Or is embarrassing me your idea of fun?”
“If you’re embarrassed, it’s your own damn fault. If you’d put that skinny ass of yours in here the first time, you wouldn’t be having this problem.” The jeans dropped to the floor.
Tommie’s eyes squinched shut and she turned her head away, but not before she got a good view of the impressive package the big guy carried.
The creature inside her made a funny, happy sound and felt as if it was spinning inside her. It was a feeling Tommie had never felt before and, oddly, it made her feel happy, too. Granted, it was all part of her general craziness, but happy crazy felt a helluva lot better than miserable crazy.
She felt him climb in behind her and draw the curtain closed.
“No funny business,” she warned even as she arched her back with pleasure
as he applied a soapy cloth.
“Who me? I’m a perfect gentleman.”
Tommie was pretty sure he wasn’t, but his warm hands caressing her shoulders made it hard to argue the point. Still, she tried.
“Bull,” she said with what turned into a groan of pleasure as he ran the cloth over her neck.
“What?”
“Bull,” she said a little more emphatically.
“What?” he asked again, impatiently this time.
“Bull,” she repeated, a little louder.
He put his hands on her hips. “Look, spitfire, I don’t know about you, but in my experience, when a woman says my name, it’s usually followed up with a statement, question, or sigh of pleasure. What’s it gonna be?”
Tommie raised her head and tried to look over her shoulder. “Bull? Your name is Bull?”
He nodded. “Yep.” His hands left her hips.
“Bullshit.” She laughed to cover her disappointment and sighed when the hands came back with a newly soaped washcloth.
“Referring to my being a gentleman or my name?”
“Both, I guess. I don’t believe for a minute you’re a gentleman and what mother would name a tiny little baby, Bull?”
She felt his shoulders shrug when he laughed.
“Hey, you know what they say about if the shoe fits. I was always hung this way. Even my mother was impressed.”
Chapter 6
Damn, was that sick or what? There he was, running his hands over a skinny-assed bag of bones and enjoying it. He’d never had an interest in skinny, never believed in the adage ‘Anything over a mouthful was wasted’. Give him a nicely padded rump and a pair of hefty tits and he was a happy wolver. He liked a little jiggle and squish in his play. So why was his body responding to the scrawny scarecrow standing in front of him with her hands braced against the shower wall, legs spread, and ass raised? She was weak, underfed, and so exhausted she could barely stand and here he was, fantasizing about utilizing her position for funny business. And who the hell said funny business anymore?
Wolver's Rescue Page 5