by Ava Walsh
Adam stomped on the gas, making Roland jerk to one side. His heart hammered. What if they were too late?
It had to be Brian. He had done late night work in Roland's office the night before and it was his day off work. Roland felt like he had been stabbed. The hurt of betrayal rose in him, making his wolf throw back its head and howl in sadness. He thought he had been making progress with Brian. He thought… but the other werewolf must blame him too much for letting him be turned in the first place. Was this all about revenge?
"She's going to be fine," Adam said, trying to make his voice upbeat, although Roland could hear the stress in it. "Only an idiot would kill a cop."
Roland closed his eyes, forcibly rejecting all the confused thoughts in his mind, letting his wolf closer to the surface. He would do anything it took to protect his mate, to make sure she wasn't harmed. His wolf growled and the sound reverberated in his chest. He felt his canines grow, and claws sprouted from his nails.
They reached the mansion quickly. Roland threw himself out of the car before Adam had even come to a stop. He rolled over the ground several times before he jumped to his feet and ran to the guesthouse. Claire's rich, chocolate scent was heavy in the air but she was nowhere to be seen. Brian's scent was thick as well.
The wolf growled again and Roland dropped, nostrils flaring as he took in the scents. Outside, two paths went off in opposite directions, Claire and Brian's scents mixed together in both.
"You take that one," he ordered Adam.
His Beta nodded and scampered off in a half-crouch. Roland continued following his own trail. His business suit felt constricting, so he tore off his jacket and tossed it aside. The trail led him to a garden shed at the very back of the property. The scents grew stronger. Roland kicked the door in, adrenaline pumping through him.
The first thing he saw was Claire. She was in a half-sitting position at the back of the shed, her hands tied together behind her, a gag in her mouth. She was wrapped in a sheet and nothing else. A snarl broke free as he registered Brian hunched over her.
Brian looked up. His eyes widened and he sprang to his feet. "Roland—"
Roland didn't wait for another word. He threw himself across the room, hands outstretched and grasping for the werewolf.
Claws tore through Brian's clothes and Roland smelled blood. A hazy mist settled over his vision as he sent first one punch and then another into the other werewolf's face. He no longer saw Brian, a member of his pack. He saw an enemy who had threatened his mate, and he would show no mercy.
A fist flew at Roland's head and he ducked, but he didn't see the punches to his abdomen and chest coming. He grunted at the impact, stumbling backwards. Brian snatched a two-by-four off the ground and swung it at the Alpha. He blocked the blow, jabbing at Brian's eyes with his fingers. Brian jerked back just in time to spare his eyes. With a growl, Roland kneed him in the stomach. Brian grabbed the Alpha's neck and slammed him against the wall. His canines flashed and sank into Roland's shoulder.
The Alpha roared in pain, wrapping a hand around Brian's throat. He squeezed, cutting off the other werewolf's breath. Brian sank his fist into Roland's stomach again and again, until Roland stumbled back, gasping and wheezing. Brian sagged against the wall, panting, then pushed himself to his feet again. He turned his head. Roland followed his gaze. A gun lay beside Claire. She writhed against her bonds, eyes wide as she tried to grasp it.
Both werewolves staggered in a circle, panting, glaring at each other.
"We both know how this ends," Brian gasped out. "So let's get it over with."
He dove for the gun. Claire rolled, covering the weapon with her body. Roland lunged, seizing Brian by his shirt. They tumbled over the ground until Roland sprang to his feet. He dragged Brian up and threw him against the wall. His canines sank into Brian's throat. The copper taste of blood exploded in his mouth. He felt the flesh give as he tore. Brian's eyes widened. His hands clutched the front of Roland's shirt.
The Alpha stared at the bubbling blood and smelled that the wound was fatal. Fear rolled in waves off Brian, and just like that, he was a pack member again. Roland gently lowered him to the floor, supporting his head and neck as the blood continued to flow. He tried to staunch the river but there was too much damage.
"I would have protected you until death," Roland whispered. "All of you. You were one of my pack, one of my family. I'm sorry that you were cursed with being a werewolf, but—"
Blood bubbled on Brian's lips as he laughed. The sound was wet and gurgling. His gaze sharpened for a moment. "You'll never understand."
The smell of blood was heavy in the air as Brian's eyes lost their focus. Roland heard his heartbeat, rapid at first, then slower, then nothing at all.
"No," Roland sighed, bowing his head. "I won't understand."
Movement behind him reminded him that Claire was still bound and gagged. He closed Brian's eyes and turned his back on his dead pack member. Claire's wide eyes stared at him. She was terrified. He could smell her fear and hear the rapid beating of her heart. His own heart sunk low. After seeing him like this, she would run. And he wouldn’t blame her. He pulled the gag from her mouth and dropped his gaze as he started on the ropes.
"Did he hurt you?" His voice was rough.
"No."
"Did he…?" He didn't want to think about the possibility that the bastard had actually raped Claire. But if he had, then he needed to know–Claire would need therapy, and even if she wanted nothing more to do with him, he would make sure she got the help she needed.
"No," Claire repeated, softer this time.
Relief flooded him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is all my fault."
He couldn't undo the knots, but his teeth were still sharp in his mouth, so he bent and gnawed through the bindings. As soon as she was free, Claire threw her arms around him.
Shock rippled through him. After what she had just seen, how could she stand to touch him? She should be running from him as fast as she could! He had just brutally killed another man and she was hugging him?
"It's not your fault."
Roland realized he was trembling. "I've never killed anyone before."
"He would have killed you. It's not your fault." Claire stroked his hair. "It's not your fault.
The taste of Brian's blood was still in his mouth. He held his mate as tightly as he could, afraid that if he let her go there would be nothing to anchor him and he'd go spinning off the world, never to return. She stroked his hair, whispering again and again that it wasn't his fault. Roland had no breath to respond. He could only hold her tighter.
Chapter Ten
It was two weeks after Claire had given birth. She sat at the kitchen table in Roland's guesthouse, her new home. She traced the gentle curve of her belly, feeling almost melancholy that there wasn't a life inside her anymore. But holding her tiny daughter was worth the loss of movement inside her.
"Hello?"
Claire jumped as Grace's voice came out of her phone, where it was laying on the table. She shook her head, grounding herself back into the present. "Sorry, I lost my train of thought. What did you say?"
"I was asking if Roland is any better."
Claire sighed. She knew from her own experience that killing someone, even in self-defense, wasn't something that you just magically got over. Roland still carried a lot of guilt, both for Melissa and Brian's deaths, although he had been making progress over the past months.
"He's doing better, yes. But it's going to take him time to recover. I'm just glad that he's seeing that therapist."
"Give him my best."
"I will."
Claire shifted uncomfortably. Her breasts were feeling overly full. It was time to go feed little Ada–the tiny baby needed to be fed every hour. Claire smiled as she remembered her daughter's birth. It had been easier than she had thought it would be, but after she saw exactly how tiny her child was, the ease of labor had made sense.
All the full moons throughout the pregnancy
had been difficult, but they had got progressively worse as the baby grew, and Claire had been constantly worried that she was going to lose the baby. Roland had helped ease her fear by staying by her side, even when his body changed to that of a humanoid wolf. But when Claire had gone into labor at 36 weeks, she had been glad that she wouldn’t have to go through another full moon while pregnant.
"More importantly, when can I come and meet Ada?"
Claire winced. Grace had been thrilled about the pregnancy, and Claire knew that she was planning on being a big part of Ada’s life. But they had to be careful about when they had visitors, and make sure that they planned around the full moon.
“Soon, I promise. Look, I have to go and feed her.”
“Okay. But send me a picture at least.”
“I will do. Call you later.”
Claire hung up the phone, smiling, and headed into the bedroom. Ada Doyle-Davis was born weighing just five pounds and four ounces. When Claire first saw her, her heart had stopped. She was certain that, even though her baby had survived the full moons, she couldn't survive being born so tiny. Ada had been only skin and bones, and she still seemed exceptionally thin, although the doctors had said she was doing fine.
Roland sat on the bed, cradling their daughter against his chest. The doctors had told Claire that physical contact was very beneficial for babies born prematurely, so the two of them took turns holding her at all times. The other members of the pack hung around, making food, cleaning and never straying far from the guest house. All of them were extremely protective of the little girl who would be the next Alpha.
"Is she awake?" Claire asked, and Ada stirred at the sound of her voice. Her eyes had not yet opened, but she still responded to the sounds around her.
"Awake and wanting her mother."
Claire slipped off her shirt and unhooked her bra. Ada's tiny mouth was already searching as Roland passed her to her mother.
Roland put an arm around Claire as Ada began nursing. "She's amazing."
"She is. Grace phoned. We're going to need to be careful with her. I think she’s going to want to spend a lot of time with Ada. I'd like to be able to tell her the truth someday, but…"
"Adam would like that, too. I think he might be smitten with her."
Claire couldn't help but laugh. "If he can get her, it'll be a miracle. That girl goes through boyfriends like we go through socks."
"Adam's always had a similar relationship with women. I told him that he's not allowed to get her pregnant, but the rest is his business."
"Hypocrite," Claire cooed. "If I hadn't gotten pregnant on our once-only night, would we be together now?"
"Yes." Roland shrugged at Claire's raised eyebrow. "We would have found a way to be together. We are meant to be. You're my mate. Somehow, no matter what else happened, you and I would have found each other."
Claire had to admit that he was right–she felt just as strongly as he did. "And now we have Ada." She leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling. "I love you."
"I love you, too." Roland's breath ruffled her hair. "I love you forever and ever."
"And ever and ever," Claire added.
Roland smiled. He laughed and drew her in for a kiss. "And ever and ever and ever and ever…"
*****
THE END
Contemporary Romance Collection
The Mobster's Secret Baby
Description
“Without manners, we all turn into animals,” he said.
“And what’s wrong with animals?” she whispered.
Sylvia
All my life I’ve been on my guard, looking over my shoulders because my dad’s a mobster. And now he has made me a prisoner in one of his friend’s homes. Fedor Volkov, the big Russian mafia boss.
I expected a cold-hearted monster, but he’s sexy as hell with a beard that sets my belly on fire. He stands for everything I despise, yet I can’t stop thinking about him. I want him to be the one to take my virginity. Especially since that would royally piss off my dad.
But I got way more than I bargained for...
Fedor
Every two years I take a vacation in my holiday home, alone. But this time, Will Stern has begged me to take in his daughter and protect her against his enemies. I couldn’t say no. Will is one of my best friends.
I didn’t expect her to be all grown up, though, a sexy young twenty-three-year-old with endless legs and a cleavage to drive me mad. But I can’t break the code, I am her guardian. I know I should stay away from her, but it’s almost like she’s out to make me fall.
How much longer can I resist?
Chapter One - Sylvia
“I don’t understand what the need for this is!” Sylvia stood aside while her father threw open the doors of her cupboard and started flinging clothes into a large duffle bag that he had brought with him.
“Think of this as a vacation, sweetie,” Will Stern said, barely looking at his daughter while he continued the task at hand - packing his daughter’s belongings.
“A vacation? I don’t need a vacation, dad! I just got done with college. I need to find a job.” Sylvia took a few steps in her father’s direction, trying to follow him around the room, but he now laid an arm on her dresser and just swept all her makeup and boxes of little trinkets into the bag. Sylvia shrieked with fright.
“Be careful with those, dad!” she yelled, but he wasn’t really paying attention. He had only one thing on his mind, and he didn’t look like he was going to take a break.
“I’ll get you a job when you come back. It’s just for a couple of weeks. It’ll be a nice break for you, after all the hard work you’ve put into your studies. You’ve never been to Puerto Rico,” Will said, finally zipping up the bag. He thought he had packed everything, but Sylvia had already made mental notes of all the stuff that he hadn’t put in - her shoes, the scarves, her prized collection of perfumes.
“Okay, dad,” she said softly, hoping that a gentler approach might work better. She walked towards him as he stood bent over the duffle bag and put a hand on his shoulder. Will Stern whipped around with a crazed look in his eyes.
“Dad, I thought those days were behind us,” Sylvia asked, the color rising in her cheeks. She was so tired of this. All her childhood had been spent running away, hiding, always looking over their shoulders to see if they were being followed. It was what had killed her mother. All that nerve wracking will to survive, to live. Her father had been a small-timer then, he worked for someone else, one of the Russian mob bosses. But now that he had a gang of his own, his own security, his own source of income, Sylvia thought that those days of looking over their shoulders were over. That their lives were never going to be in danger anymore.
“It’s never truly behind us,” Will said, sitting down at the edge of her bed with a thump. He looked exhausted.
Sylvia put her hands on her hips, standing with her legs apart. She could feel the rage rising up her shoulders, she was exhausted too. When would she ever be able to lead a normal life?
“You have the money now, dad. You can pay off people. Frighten them…I don’t know what. You can do something. You don’t have to run away!” Sylvia breathed in deeply, nearly pleading with her father. She didn’t want to leave New York. Not when she was just beginning her job hunt. No matter what promises her father made, the kind of work he’d find her was not the kind of work she wanted to do. She wanted to get away from the mob world, away from the world of money laundering and thugs and stories about people getting killed or beaten to pulp for not paying their dues.
Sylvia wanted to lead a normal life, work at a startup, have a regular desk job, get a cat.
“I’m not running away. You’re going to Puerto Rico by yourself. I just don’t want you to get caught up in this. I don’t want your life to be in danger,” Will said, running his hands through his closely cropped dark curly hair. Sylvia noticed the graying of his sideburns. She hadn’t realized before but her father was getting old. But this
didn’t mean that she wasn’t still angry with him. For trying to snatch a normal life away from her, again!
“Well, I’m not running away either. I’ve had enough of this. I’m staying right here. What the Hell am I going to do in Puerto Rico of all places?” Sylvia folded her arms across her chest, and then she saw the shift in her father’s eyes. He was determined. She had seen that look in his eyes very often in the past. She knew it scared people, but it didn’t scare her. She looked back at him directly, defiantly.
“You’re going. You’ll be staying with my friend. He owns a mansion there. He’s on holiday there and he’s agreed to take you in for a few weeks. You’ll be safe with him.” Will stood up from the bed and picked up the duffle bag up. Sylvia could feel tears bubbling up in her eyes, from the rage. She knew she had lost the fight. There was no convincing him now.
“I know what all your friends are like. They are all like you. Dirty criminals. You’re all alike. You’re all disgusting!” Sylvia screamed after her father as he left the room, expecting her to follow him as he went.
Sylvia clenched and unclenched her fists, she stamped the floor repeatedly, and then breathed out deeply to calm herself. This was not going to work. Her father would eventually get his men to physically drag her to his waiting car outside if he had to. Her struggle, her reasoning was useless.
So instead, Sylvia just opened her cupboard again. She pulled out one of her Louis Vuitton bags and started stuffing in the shoes her father had forgotten to pack, and then her scarves and her perfumes.
Just a few more weeks of this life, she told herself as she packed. Then it’d be over. Then she’d be done with this life and would start afresh. Maybe she’d leave the country. Maybe she’d move to London or Sydney or somewhere else where her father couldn’t hunt her down. Sylvia could feel the blood boiling in her veins, but she knew there was absolutely nothing she could do about it now.