by Zoe Chant
“Hey,” Jess greeted, rising from the picnic table where she was cutting watermelon.
Alison hugged her and Shaun, who was manning the grill, and set the six-pack of beer she’d brought on the table.
“Don’t mind if I do,” Shaun teased, reaching for a bottle. He rolled his eyes toward the squabbling kids. “We’re in hour eight of the Great Wisdom Tooth Debate.”
“Lord,” Jess agreed under her breath. “I told him he’s not even old enough for it to matter yet, but once he gets an idea in his head...”
Alison watched as Georgia chased Devin around the back yard. He was cackling and holding a pineapple ring above his head while she stumbled and wailed after him. “Well, good news. You might have a new problem,” she observed, smiling.
Jess glanced at the kids, pulled a face, then asked brightly, “Alison, you want to help me in the kitchen?”
“I absolutely do,” Alison agreed, laughing.
Shaun sighed. “Maybe I’ll just let them duke it out until they exhaust themselves.”
“You do that.” Jess patted his arm and pulled Alison back into the cool of the kitchen. “Here,” she instructed, “you taste-test the potato salad and I’ll get out the hot dogs and burgers.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Alison forked a chunk of warm potato into her mouth. It was delicious, creamy and tangy. She wanted to eat the whole bowl. “Maybe a little more salt.”
“Go ahead,” Jess told her, head in the fridge. “How many hot dogs do you think an eight-year-old can eat?”
“...Three?”
Jess laughed. “He requested six. Six! I told him he’d throw them all up and he changed his order to seven.”
“Gross.” Alison snickered. She could feel the weight of the week lifting with each minute in Jess’s cheerful, busy home. Maybe settling down had some perks.
“So,” Jess said, counting out burger patties on a tray, “how’s life with Mister Sexy P.I.? Any private investigations yet?” She wiggled her eyebrows dramatically.
Alison looked ruefully down at the counter, mixing the salad. “It’s okay. I’ll be glad when it’s over, honestly.”
Jess frowned. “You know I’m just teasing, right? I didn’t mean to—”
“No, I know,” Alison assured her.
“I’ve been really worried about you.” Jess’s dark eyes were earnest.
“I know. This week has been really hard and confusing. I don’t know what to do with myself. I was so scared yesterday. We had a close call at the grocery store. And then Gage brought me home and I met his clan. And it was just a lot. A lot to think about.”
Jess tilted her head suspiciously. “You met his clan? What do you mean he brought you home? Did you guys hook up or something? I was just joking about that!”
Alison bit her lip and averted her eyes, staring out the window. “Yeah, we had sex. It wasn’t the first time.”
“What? Wait, was it bad or something?”
Alison flushed hotly and shook her head against the flood of arousing sense memories. The insistent pull of Gage’s fingers in her hair, the sharp pleasure of his cock against her clit, his low voice growling...
Jess laughed at her inattentiveness. “Okay, then. Must’ve been some hot sex.”
“Yeah,” Alison sighed without meaning to.
Jess smirked. “So what’s the problem?”
Alison frowned and tasted the potato salad again, stalling. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh really? I’m shocked.” Jess smiled and rolled her eyes. “Sex is usually so uncomplicated.”
Alison laughed shortly. “Okay, yeah. But this is way more than usual. Gage is a shifter, you know? And some things are different for them, I guess. It freaked me out.”
“What? Does he have a weird dick or something?”
Alison snorted. “No. He just... sees things differently.”
“Spit it out. What did he do that made you freak?”
Alison pressed her lips together and shook her head, blew out her breath. Jess touched her shoulder, worried. “He used the same word as the creeper,” Alison whispered. “He said something about... being mates.”
Jess breathed in, shocked. “No.”
“It was an accident. He didn’t mean to tell me, but then we were— and he said it. And I don’t know what to do. I can’t trust him now. Can I?” She looked at Jess, eyes begging for guidance.
“Wow.” Jess sighed. “I don’t know. That’s huge.” They were silent for a moment as she finished with the tray and set it aside. “But I mean, just because he said that, it doesn’t mean he’s like your stalker, right? He hasn’t been stalking you, for one thing. He’s been helping you.”
Alison shrugged. “Yeah. But why? He admitted he wanted to convince me that we could be mates.”
Jess frowned. “So do you think he was trying to trick you, or what?”
“No.” Alison denied it instinctively. Gage’s thoughtfulness and gentleness with her had been real, she was sure of it. He’d never made her feel unsafe or unsure of him. And his clan had been genuinely happy and respectful, with her and with each other. “But he wasn’t honest, either. He didn’t tell me how he really felt about me.”
“And that bugs you?”
“Well, we’d already hooked up once.” Alison bit her lip, feeling dumb for trusting Gage so much, so fast. “He really seemed like a good guy,” she defended her reasoning. “He didn’t give me any weird vibes.”
Jess laughed lightly. “I mean, it’s definitely not good that he lied to you. But can I point something out? You seem way more upset that he wasn’t honest with you than that he, you know, wants to have hot shifter sex with you forever.”
Alison cast around for a denial. She’d never wanted to settle down, never expected that, not since her last bad breakup. But she couldn’t deny that Gage had made her want to reconsider.
Jess smiled wryly at her conflicted expression. “It makes sense to me. It bugs me when I can tell Shaun’s keeping something from me, but when he actually tells me he messed up, it’s usually not a huge deal.”
“That’s not the same,” Alison denied. The idea that she and Gage were anything like a married couple was ridiculous. “I only met Gage this week! And we’re not in a relationship.”
“But you knew you could trust him,” Jess pointed out, eyebrows raised.
“I—” Alison shifted uncomfortably. “I thought I could.”
“Hmm.” Jess reached for the tray of meat for the barbecue. “Well, all I can say is, trust your instincts. You’ve got good ones. Don’t let the creeper mess with your head so much that you start ignoring them, okay? There’s nothing wrong with finding someone who can make you happy. It’s only a problem if you don’t think Gage is trustworthy.”
Alison poked at the potato salad as Jess took the tray out the back door to Shaun. Through the window, she saw him press a kiss to her temple, and the sight made her let out a small trembling breath.
By early evening, dusky light began to filter through the wild branches of an oak, across the patio to where Alison stood soaking in the last warmth of the day. In the grass, Devin and one of his friends played kickball with Shaun. Jess chatted with a neighbor by the fence, holding a sleepy Georgia. The picnic table had been cleared of plates, but the detritus of a delicious meal still tempted Alison to pick at leftovers. The smell of the charcoal grill lingered in the air, comforting and nostalgic.
Gage would love this. The whole clan would, she thought before she could stop herself. Vanessa had brought her home yesterday and checked in every few hours since then, and Alison really liked her. Sighing, she snagged a wedge of watermelon and sucked the sticky juice off her fingers. She had to get her head on straight. Was she letting this whole stalker situation cloud her judgment? Vanessa had reassured her that Gage was working night and day, narrowing in on the suspect. Alison still felt like she could rely on him. Couldn’t she?
By the time she’d said her goodnights and buckled into her car, Alison was ten
se again. It had been a nice break while it lasted, but her real life wasn’t made of barbecues at Jess’s adorable house with her adorable kids and husband. More like nuked popcorn dinner at a tiny apartment with a cranky cat.
As she’d left, Jess had given her a tight squeeze and murmured, “You can figure this out, I promise. Trust your instincts. And if you need to talk more, I’ll be at the office on Monday. Okay?”
Alison blew out a frustrated breath and turned off Jess’s quiet street onto the main road. She flipped on KJAM, where Rihanna was working it out, and tried to dance it out in her seat. As she shimmied and swiveled her neck, bright lights in the rearview mirror caught her eye. The car’s headlights flashed at her, pulling closer suddenly.
“Jeez, chill out!” She blinked fast, trying to disperse the haloes of light that burst in her vision. The dark road ahead looked like damaged film now, blips and shapes shooting across her view. She slowed the car, face angled away from the mirror, where the headlights continued to flash. “I can’t see when you do that, jerk! Just pass me, if you’re so pissed!”
As Alison said it, she heard the car’s engine raring up behind her, and the lights zoomed closer, nearly up to her bumper. “Oh, shit,” she whispered, and put her foot to the accelerator. She batted away the mirror until the reflected lights weren’t blinding, and sped as fast as she could, headed toward the freeway overpass.
It’s him, it’s the creeper, I know it, she thought in a panic. If she got on the freeway, could she lose him? Could he trap her between exits? Would there be more people up there? Would anyone help her? One hand clutching the wheel, she frantically felt around the pockets and compartments of the car for the panic button Gage had given her. Where had she hidden the stupid thing? She was going to die in a fiery crash and it would be her own fault!
With a fervent prayer, she veered toward the on-ramp ahead of the overpass, the other car following. As the road curved upward, she made a split-second decision and heaved the wheel to the left, jumping the median. Oh God, she mouthed as her car screeched and bumped back onto the road, and pumped the gas again, desperate to get away from her stalker. His car was larger than hers, though, and took the sudden turn without incident. He was already gaining on her again, headlights knife-sharp through the gloom.
They shot through the underpass and emerged into a scrubby, hilly area bordering an industrial park. Alison fumbled for her phone, scanning the empty road for any sign of hope, her hand trembling so badly she could barely locate Gage’s number. The phone connected just as her car lurched, a grinding, shrieking din coming from the rear bumper.
“Oh, shit! He’s ramming me! Gage? Can you hear me?” Alison’s voice sounded almost detached, shaking but strangely collected compared to the feeling of panic pulsing through her body. “I’m— oh God—”
The car hit her again and grinded forward, turned, forcing her off the road. Alison fought to control the steering wheel but the car hurtled toward the trees. Alison screamed and leaned back and braced for impact. “Gage? He’s got me— he’s going to—”
Chapter Ten
Gage leaned back in his leather chair and pressed his fingers tight against the bridge of his nose. His head ached and the computer screen was starting to blur in front of his eyes, but was going to push on until he solved this case. He’d been researching for hours, ever since Alison left him.
He’d asked Vanessa to take Alison home and make sure her apartment was secure, and when Vanessa returned she’d reported that everything was taken care of. But Gage couldn’t stop the shamed voice in his head, his bear telling him in no uncertain terms that he had failed. That he hadn’t taken care of his mate at all— that he’d hurt her, abandoned her, left her to fend for herself against a terrifying enemy.
You’re not worthy, his bear growled. If he couldn’t take care of his mate, what good was he? No wonder she didn’t want him. Gage scrubbed his hands through his hair, wild and messy from hours of pulling at it in frustration. He pressed his forehead against the edge of the desk, the cool wood calming his burning fear just slightly. What if he couldn’t find the stalker? What if the stalker found Alison first?
There was no point in what-ifs. He just had to keep looking. Alison needed him. He thought of Alison’s soft honey scent, the spice of her arousal as he’d kissed her swollen lips, pressed his face into her warm neck. God, he missed her. What if he never felt her again, never breathed her in, never held her? The despair of the thought ripped through his gut, his bear keening in pain, moaning piteously for its mate. He tried to breathe through the overwhelming pain, squeezing his fists tight to keep his bear’s claws from popping out and slicing through his skin. His bear wanted to fight, to chase, to roar and bite until the threat against its mate was viciously eliminated. But Gage couldn’t afford to let his bear out. Not yet.
Just find him.
Just find him and catch him.
He raised his head, blew out a long breath, and fastened his eyes back to the computer screen. Hopefully any minute now he’d get results back from the license plate database. It had been down for maintenance— Saturday morning being typically low-traffic, he supposed— and the timing was infuriating. He should’ve run the plate as soon as he’d snapped the photo, but he’d been so distracted by Alison. He’d thought there would be time after he made her breakfast, after he introduced her to the clan, after he showed her his office. He’d thought he had time. But time had run out and it was all his own fault.
After long moments, the results pinged up on his screen. Gage hit print and was out of his seat before the printer even woke up. He ran for the hall to grab his jacket, keys, and the still-hot printout, and slammed out the back door.
Minutes later, the truck protested as Gage sped around a corner. It wasn’t exactly a sports car, made more for off-roading than tight turns, but Gage pressed it as hard as he could. Even if he couldn’t have his mate, he would make sure she was safe. He was so close to catching this guy, he could feel it. His eyes flicked down to the printout on his dashboard.
Evan Latimer
Registered wolf shifter, omega status
Formerly associated with Radford pack
A lone wolf, an omega. Without a pack, some shifters suffered mentally, and if he’d been kicked out of a pack there was no telling how damaged his wolf might be. And a shifter whose grip on reality, on humanity, had failed...
Gage swore under his breath, speeding faster. A shifter like that might fight to the death to get what he believed was his. He would believe he deserved Alison, would believe that she was his, no matter what she told him. He would be angry at her denial. Gage’s heart thumped in fear and in pain. Alison was strong. Any self-respecting shifter would recognize that strength and admire it. Even if it meant Alison belonged only to herself. Even if it meant living without a mate. He would do that, for her. But first he had to make sure she had the chance.
Up ahead, he saw the sign for Latimer’s street. The run-down area looked like the perfect place for an omega shifter to hide out. A large apartment block dominated one side of the road and a chain-link fence separated a trash-strewn field on the other. Beyond the rough and patchy grass area, scraggly trees led down to a dense forest of firs.
Gage slowed, scanning the cars parked along the curb. He rolled down the window to scent the air and listen closely. Voices murmured inside the apartments and the smell of frying oil reached him from an open window. He couldn’t sense the shifter, didn’t think he was home. Maybe he could set up an ambush. Find Latimer’s unit and mask his scent, lie in wait. He reversed the truck to park, planning his approach.
Suddenly, a bolt of sheer terror shot through him. Something is wrong, his bear warned, hackles rising.
Then his phone rang.
***
The scene made Gage’s bear rear up in fear and fury. Alison’s small car smoked in the dimming light, gray twists rising into the tree branches above. Latimer’s truck had crushed her into the tree trunk, and it still hulke
d behind her like a huge beast, driver-side door yanked open nearly off its hinges, headlights pinning her car. He couldn’t see any movement, but he knew Alison was somewhere nearby— and she was terrified.
Throwing open his own door, he felt his bear push forward, instinct to shift driving strong. He held it back with an effort that ached in his bones. First he needed to locate Alison. He didn’t want her first sight of him to terrify her further; she needed to know it was him, that he would protect her from Latimer.
Over the phone, all he’d been able to hear was her beautiful voice rising in panic, repeating, “He’s here, he’s here—” and then a grinding shriek of metal, her heartbeat accelerating madly. He tracked it now as he had while he was driving, ears pricked, barely daring to breathe for fear of losing his lock on it. But her heartbeat was strong now, and very near. He tilted his head, listening for the direction. She was still in the car. Trapped in the crush of steel, breathing heavily, heart racing. Stuck.
“Gage?” he heard her question through the wreck of her car. Her voice trembled, but it was laced with a wary hope. “Gage, is that you? Can you hear me? He ran off when he heard the truck. I think he’s close, though. I think he’s watching.”
A sharp, eerie howl raised the hackles on Gage’s neck. It cut through the chilly night air like teeth. His bear let out a fierce growl and Gage couldn’t hold it in, answering Latimer’s threat with a warning of his own. I’m going to hunt you down. Run for your life.
“Gage?” Alison’s voice shook. “That’s you, right?” She made a pained noise, then whispered, “Get it together, Lawrence. Call 911 or something. Where’d your phone go?”
“It’s me,” Gage called, his chest hurting at the fear in her voice. He could hear her rustling around slowly in the front seat, but he wasn’t sure she could hear him. With his ears attuned to the tree line surrounding the crash site, he sidled up toward her car.
“Aha!” Her voice recovered its usual happy tone for a moment. “There you are. Come here, now.” As Gage came into her view, she shrieked and startled, nearly dropping her phone.