Carefully, he opened the back door and one of the cooks caught the movement and turned to look at him. Reed quickly held a finger up to his lips, a gesture of silence, and the cook fearfully turned around to pretend he hadn’t seen him. The air was full of anxiety as Reed entered the back hall, pressing himself against the wall and staying clear of the door. He was about to move when he heard a round being fired inside the room. With no more time to waste, he kicked the door open wide about the time a shotgun blast took out several ceiling tiles.
The blast had come from a man falling backwards, a man with a shotgun in his hand. As the man fell on to his back, Reed caught sight of another man with a shotgun aimed right at him. Reed threw himself out of the doorway, back into the hall, as a shotgun blast ripped out part of the door jamb. But then he was back in the doorway, as quick as a flash, his service revolver firing and taking out the man who had just fired at him. As that man went down, the man on the floor rolled to his knees but he wasn’t able to bring his gun up before someone from the closet put a bullet in his brain. He fell to the floor like a stone, bleeding out on the carpet.
Reed still had his gun out, leveled at the cooks now. “Is that all there is?” he demanded. “Are there any more?”
The cooks shook their heads, all in a panic. “No!” one guy yelled, “Just two that we saw.”
Reed kept his gun leveled for a moment longer before lowering it, taking a moment to survey the carnage of the room. Outside the back door, he could hear police sirens blaring as deputies began to run in through the door, weapons brandished. Reed called them off.
“All clear,” he said, turning to see two wide-eyed deputies in the doorway. “Get these guys out of here. Make sure they’re okay and then we need statements. And someone get on the radio and get my dad down here. We’re going to need him.”
The deputies began moving, pulling the cooks out of the office as Reed went to the closet where Kinley was just getting to her feet. Their eyes met and a thousand sharp emotions filled the air between them; it was like a cavalcade of angst and relief and joy. Reed was the first one to speak.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Did they hurt you?”
Kinley had never been so glad to see anyone in her entire life. “No,” she said. “Thank God you came when you did.”
Reed simply nodded, his jaw ticking as he holstered his weapon. He was trying very hard to remain calm, to think deliberately and to speak deliberately. But it was very hard to keep the emotion out of the equation so he simply gave up.
“I was only here because you left without a word,” he said, looking at her and trying not to feel hurt. “I came to see you like I always do when you run out on me, Kinley. You’ve been running out on me since the day we met and I came to tell you that you’re not going to do it anymore. You’re a grown woman and you need to start acting like one.”
Kinley felt a good deal of shame with his tongue lashing, which was well overdue. Even she knew that. “I know,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry I left, Reed. I just… it’s just that you shouldn’t get mixed up with someone like me. But if we keep going the way we’re going, we’re going to have five kids and twenty years under our belt and you will have spent those years with a broken woman. That’s not fair to you. Don’t you get that?”
He sighed heavily. “I will have spent those years with the woman I love,” he said, watching her eyes widened. “That’s right; I love you. You were broken but you’re on your way to healing yourself. I can see it in you; yesterday was such a big day for you, Kinley. You worked through so much pain yesterday. And I want to be there for your continued journey but if you keep running out on me, at some point, I’m going to get sick of bringing you back. I love you and I want to marry you, but I can’t do that if you keep running.”
Kinley simply stared at him, her mouth working as if she were trying to speak but the words wouldn’t seem to come. Finally, she hissed. “I don’t know if I can open myself up again,” she whispered. “I love you, too, and I’m scared to death about it.”
Reed had been waiting his entire life to hear those words come out of her mouth. He went to her, cupping her face between his two big hands, and fixed her in the eye even as men from the sheriff’s department came into the office and began surveying the two dead men on the floor. To Reed, there simply wasn’t anyone else in the room. He had something to say to Kinley and no death or blood or carnage was going to stop that.
“So am I,” he confessed. “But I swear to you that nothing is going to happen to me. I come from a long line of knights and that makes me invincible, remember? I’ll always be here for you, to walk beside you as you heal from your past and whatever comes, I will love you for the rest of your life. Will you at least give me that chance?”
Kinley’s eyes filled with tears, but this time, they were tears of joy. For the first time in three years, they were not tears of sorrow. “So I have my own knight in shining armor?” she said hoarsely. “I kind of like that.”
He smiled because she was. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?”
“Will you give me the chance to love you?”
Kinley nodded. “I will.”
“No more running?”
She shook her head. “No more, I swear,” she murmured sincerely. Suddenly, she didn’t feel any shame or confusion. When she looked at Reed, all she felt was… hope. She definitely felt hope, as if it had been there all along. “I feel as if… as if my running has ended, here in this little hick town. When I came here, I always thought I was running from something but now… now it seems like maybe I was running to something. I was running to you.”
Reed’s answer was to kiss her, more deeply and more emotionally than he had ever kissed anyone in his life, ever. From that moment forward, Kinley’s healing in earnest began with the deputy whose life she once saved. He had been her destiny all along.
Here, in the town named after the river, Kinley’s running finally ended.
The End
About Kathryn Le Veque
Medieval Just Got Real.
KATHRYN LE VEQUE is a USA TODAY Bestselling author, an Amazon All-Star author, and a #1 bestselling, award-winning, multi-published author in Medieval Historical Romance and Historical Fiction. She has been featured in the NEW YORK TIMES and on USA TODAY’s HEA blog. In March 2015, Kathryn was the featured cover story for the March issue of InD’Tale Magazine, the premier Indie author magazine. She was also a quadruple nominee (a record!) for the prestigious RONE awards for 2015.
Kathryn’s Medieval Romance novels have been called ‘detailed’, ‘highly romantic’, and ‘character-rich’. She crafts great adventures of love, battles, passion, and romance in the High Middle Ages. More than that, she writes for both women AND men – an unusual crossover for a romance author – and Kathryn has many male readers who enjoy her stories because of the male perspective, the action, and the adventure.
On October 29, 2015, Amazon launched Kathryn’s Kindle Worlds Fan Fiction site WORLD OF DE WOLFE PACK. Please visit Kindle Worlds for Kathryn Le Veque’s World of de Wolfe Pack and find many action-packed adventures written by some of the top authors in their genre using Kathryn’s characters from the de Wolfe Pack series. As Kindle World’s FIRST Historical Romance fan fiction world, Kathryn Le Veque’s World of de Wolfe Pack will contain all of the great story-telling you have come to expect.
Kathryn loves to hear from her readers. Please find Kathryn on Facebook at Kathryn Le Veque, Author, or join her on Twitter @kathrynleveque, and don’t forget to visit her website and sign up for her blog at www.kathrynleveque.com.
Please follow Kathryn on Bookbub for the latest releases and sales.
Kathryn Le Veque on Amazon
Never Cry De Wolfe
De Wolfe Pack
The Series
Violetta Rand
Dedication
To Dan—never be afraid to growl a little.
Acknowledgements
; Thanks to all my readers—none of this is possible without you. Big hugs to Kathryn Le Veque for inviting me into her world, Scarlett Cole, Samanthya Wyatt, Barbi Davis, Star Montgomery, Virginia Smith, the rest of Violetta’s Valkyries, J.J., and my beloved husband, Jeff.
Chapter One
A sheep in wolf’s clothing. That’s what Ramsey De Wolfe overheard people in town whisper behind his back sometimes. Not because of anything he’d done. His celebrated career as a detective with the Opposition City Police Department was overshadowed by two things, the cowardly act of a great uncle who froze during a bank robbery in progress, leaving five dead, and the fact that Ramsey couldn’t fall in love.
But like generations before him, the De Wolfe men attended police academy and served in local police departments. Ten generations of his family had worn badges in this state. And like his surname suggested, they were ravenous defenders of justice.
That tradition didn’t shield Ramsey from the penetrating looks he received when he was off duty and prowling the streets at night. Women loved him. And he took advantage of it, as long as there were no strings attached.
The men in his family were also cursed. Something to do with an ancient ancestor named Jonathan De Wolfe from England. The man had kept a secret mistress, and when she gave birth to their son and died, he begged his wife to raise the infant as their own. Instead, she banished him from her bed and cursed the baby. Something about his prick rotting off.
Ramsey squirmed a little whenever he thought about it. Thank God his parts were in perfect working order. He adjusted himself just to make sure, then walked through the double glass doors, leaving the annual police fundraiser.
He despised tuxedos, and loosened the black bow tie and unfastened the top buttons of his white dress shirt. Whenever he faced the public, he put on his best smile.
Ramsey really didn’t give a shit about anyone there. The only reason he sat at the table of honor at events like the fundraiser was because of his last name. It drew flies like honey, women with fat checkbooks with husbands who didn’t care how they spent their money as long as they were getting laid every night.
Ramsey’s reward? Women fucked him.
The best part of that family curse…
Since he never fell in love, if a girl wanted to find a husband, sleeping with a De Wolfe was rumored to be the best way. The next man she met would eventually slip a ring on her finger. So far, Ramsey had been the catalyst for eighteen successful marriages. Of course he received invitations to each blessed event, usually with handwritten thank you notes included.
He’d always declined, but appreciated in some twisted way that they’d remembered him—like the football trophies gathering dust on his shelf in his office at work. He enjoyed reminders from his past. And he kept all those elegant invitations in an envelope in his bottom desk drawer. Eighteen little reminders of what his life might have been if he wasn’t born a De Wolfe.
He sighed as he unlocked the driver’s side door of his 1965 911 Targa Porsche. One of his pleasures in life. He started the engine, then backed out of his spot in the Liberty Building parking lot. With a population of sixty-five thousand, Opposition City had a small but bustling downtown. Jazz clubs and gourmet restaurants were located on the north end, the business district to the west. Police headquarters were in midtown, less than a mile from where the police fundraiser happened every year.
Sometimes when the need hit him hard enough, Ramsey braved the two hour drive west to Lexington. It felt good getting lost in a crowd. He didn’t limit himself to the women in his hometown, preferring the company of an occasional blond from the big city. But blonds were as common as bluegrass in Kentucky, especially the bottle kind.
As he waited for traffic to clear on Main Street, he wrestled with the idea of where to go. Did he want a burger and beer? Or a martini and steak? He glanced at his watch, another precious heirloom from his deceased grandfather. The gold Rolex looked right on his wrist.
Midnight. Early enough to slip into Christian’s Brewery and grab a booth. Friday nights were reserved for local talent, usually a house band with guest vocalists showcasing their classic rock abilities. Nothing wrong with some Zeppelin or Aerosmith with a Budweiser chaser. And if he got lucky, pussy for dessert.
He tossed his keys to the valet with a smile. “Good evening, Charlie.”
The twenty year old carrot top returned his grin. “There’s something special at table eight,” he informed. “Never seen her before.”
“Alone?”
“No,” Charlie answered. “A couple brunettes.”
Charlie attended the local community college, majoring in forensic science. Ramsey couldn’t resist the kid’s enthusiasm, or his continued attempts to get accepted to the academy. For tipping him a twenty spot whenever he showed up at the club, Charlie told him where the hottest women were sitting. Not that Ramsey needed help.
“Thanks, Charlie,” he said, then stepped inside.
Out of respect for Charlie’s effort, Ramsey gazed casually in the direction of table eight. Sure enough, the woman caught his attention. Her features were stunning, pouty lips and a pert nose. And her tits… Then he heard the sultry, Joplin-like voice coming from the stage, and couldn’t resist a look as he ventured deeper into the smoke filled room. Wrapped around the floor stand like a snake, the curvy strawberry blond sang her next verse into the microphone.
The words went straight to his dick. Or was it the way her leather pants hugged her thighs? Ramsey didn’t care, he just wanted to see and hear more.
“Mr. De Wolfe,” one of the cocktail waitresses greeted him. “You’re usual table is available.”
“Thanks, Missy,” he said. “But I think I prefer something up front.”
She eyed the stage, then gazed back at Ramsey. “Like the entertainment tonight?”
Sly girl, she knew his habits. And though he considered her very pretty, Ramsey had never made a move on her. She had two young children at home to support, and he valued her friendship. “You could say that.” He rubbed his chin and followed Missy.
The interior of the club was tastefully decorated, and very Italian like its owner. The textured walls were burgundy and adorned with beveled mirrors and lithographs of famous singers from the 1940s and 50s. The main bar was sleek, all frosted glass with wrought iron accents, lighted underneath, and seated at least thirty customers. It overlooked the dance floor, which sat just below the raised stage.
Ramsey preferred simple, that’s why he frequented the place. From whatever vantage point he chose, he could see everything, which fit with his training—always be aware of what’s going on around you. He sat at the table Missy offered, twenty feet from the stage.
“The usual drink?” Missy asked.
“Vodka tonic,” he said, in the mood for something different.
Missy placed a red napkin on the table in front of him, then disappeared into the crowd. Ramsey ran his fingers through his dark hair, his gaze sharply focused on the stage. The blond diva soothed and provoked him at the same time. Music always affected him in strange ways, but the instrumentals were what usually moved him. Somehow this singer managed to capture something as potent as lightening in her voice. And it hit him hard. Never mind her physical appeal, he could listen to her all night, maybe eternity if she kept performing Adele cover songs.
Missy returned with his drink and he handed her a twenty. “What’s her name?”
“Madison Blake.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“Draws a large crowd every Friday night. I’m guessing you’re going to frequent the bar more often? We haven’t seen you in a while.”
Ramsey smirked. Madison wouldn’t be an easy woman to forget, so he might as well enjoy her while he could. “I’ve been tied up at work,” he said. “Does she have a contract?”
“If you consider a hand shake as reliable as a signature. You know how casual Anzio is, if he likes what he sees, you get the gig.”
Ramsey and Anzio atte
nded high school together, even played football. When he opened up a nightclub after dropping out of college his junior year, it didn’t surprise Ramsey. The guy had a natural talent for peddling good food and liquor. “She’s a lucky girl, several acts have gotten discovered in this place.”
“Yes,” Missy agreed. “And I think Madison is one of the best singers we’ve ever had.” She offered him change for the twenty.
He held up his hand. “Keep it, sweetheart. Just make sure she stops by after her set.”
Missy smiled. “You’re a dog, Ramsey, but I like you.”
He’d been called worse, like bastard, beast, and heartless. It’s not that he didn’t want a meaningful relationship or a family someday. Fate just didn’t give him that choice. And history, well, ancient curses weren’t something you could just undo. Over the years he’d learned to live with his limitations. So he embraced life with conviction, even adopted a creed that reflected his unfortunate set of circumstances…and his last name. Eat or be eaten.
Chapter Two
Madison recognized Ramsey De Wolfe the minute he entered the club. The man looked lethal in a tuxedo. Not only had he stolen her breath, he’d also hijacked the crowd’s attention. Nearly every head turned as he worked his way to a table near the stage. She’d been preforming at the brewery every Friday night for three weeks, hoping to run into him. And her patience had finally paid off.
A recent graduate from the University of Kentucky in Lexington, she accepted a part time job at the Opposition City History Museum as the assistant curator. Singing helped pay the bills, but working in this bar provided her with the opportunity to get close to the very subject of her master degree thesis, the De Wolfe family. She’d been obsessed with them since high school, devouring every newspaper article, magazine feature, and book that even mentioned their name.
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