by Jodi Vaughn
“Late for a massage? Or maybe it’s your pedicure?” He dragged his eyes up to her face. “Looks like you don’t like to get your hands dirty anymore. You’re definitely not the Ginny I once knew.”
* * *
“You have no idea,” she muttered, curling her fingers into fists. Her nails dug into her palms, leaving marks, yet she barely registered the pain.
Dealing with physical pain was something she’d mastered over the last few years. She’d had to in order to survive.
“I think you know as well as I do there’s nothing for us to talk about, Jaxon. We are two different people with two different lives. No need to catch up now.” She tried to keep her voice calm, her expression indifferent. But she couldn’t conceal the tremor in her voice.
His eyes narrowed, and the muscle in his cheek twitched. That familiar look of anger crossed his features. When they were younger, she had not seen that expression much, only on very rare occasions. Like that time when some biker had grabbed her ass in the bar.
Jaxon hadn’t wasted words but had set his beer on the pool table and leveled the guy to the floor with one punch. For the rest of night the males, both human and Weres, made damn sure to keep their hands to themselves and their eyes off her ass.
“So what are you doing here, Ginny?” He crossed his muscled arms across his chest and glared.
“Just getting a drink.” She shrugged.
“Dressed like that?” His gaze ran down the length of her body. She wanted to fidget under his stare, but forced herself to stay still. “No, you are here for some other reason. You might as well tell me before I extract the information from you.”
Her eyes widened for a second before she composed herself.
“It’s really none of your business.”
“Well, sweetheart, as an Arkansas Guardian, I make it my business to sniff out trouble. And you smell like you are steeped in trouble.”
Guardian? Holy shit, Jaxon was a Guardian.
She stepped back and tripped. He reached out and grabbed her before she could fall.
“What’s gotten into you? You’re as jumpy as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs.” He narrowed his assessing gaze on her.
“Nothing.” She cleared her throat and stepped back.
“Doesn’t sound like nothing. Sounds a lot like you’re in some kind of trouble.”
“I have to go.” When he didn’t hand over her keys, she dug her hand in his jeans pocket.
She hadn’t expected his alpha scent wash over her like it did. And she certainly hadn’t expected to have the flood of bittersweet memories cover her like they did.
He grinned as he looked down into her eyes. “A little to the left. As I recall, you remember what to do next.”
She jerked her hand out and shot him a glare so intense it should have scalded him.
“I don’t remember you being quite so vulgar,” she spat.
“I don’t remember you being so cold.” He shrugged. “People change, I suppose.”
“Yes, they do.”
“I’ll give you your keys back on one condition,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“You are going to tell me why you left me on our wedding day without saying goodbye.”
The hurt streaked behind his eyes. Harshness etched into the lines around his eyes, and bitterness clung to his cruel mouth. She wanted more than anything to reach out and touch his lips, soothe away the hurt, and make him hers again.
Like they used to be.
But they’d existed an eternity ago where reality didn’t intrude and where pain did not exist.
No, she and Jaxon were nothing more than a memory now.
“I wasn’t ready to settle down. I wasn’t ready to get mated, let alone get married.” She lifted her chin to deliver the final blow. “You were never going to make me happy, Jaxon, and I knew I was the last female in the world to make you happy.”
His gaze darkened. He leaned into her.
She flinched. It was a conditioned response after the last few years of her life. She knew what was coming next. She braced herself for the pain.
“Ginny, you are so full of shit.” A hard smirk played on his lips. “You forget, female. I always know when you are lying.”
She curled her hands into fists and turned. He grabbed her elbow just as her phone chirped in her purse.
She felt the blood drain to her toes and she quickly grabbed it and checked the time. “Oh, god. I’m late.”
She hit the answer button. “Hello?”
But the call had already gone to voice mail.
Her stomach dropped.
“Late for what?” Jaxon frowned.
“I should have left thirty minutes ago.” She hurried out the back room and raced for the front door. Her heart leapt into her throat.
“Ginny, what’s got you so scared?” He grabbed her arm, preventing her escape.
“Nothing. I’m just late for a meeting.” She tried to snatch her arm away, but he only tightened his hold.
She flinched and sucked in a hiss.
He reached down with his free hand and tugged the sleeve of her shirt up.
“What are you doing?” She tried to wiggle free.
“What the fuck?” He darkened gaze landed on the dark blue bruises dotting her arm.
“It’s nothing. I fell,” she lied and snatched her arm away. She rolled her sleeve down and studied the floor. She could feel his gaze burning her with his disgust. At what she was. At the life she now lived.
“Who did this to you?” His gaze darkened, furious rage lying behind his blue eyes.
She tried to swallow, but her throat was tight and achy. She wanted to look away from his eyes, to hide from his condemnation, but she couldn’t. If she looked away, he’d see the lie.
She had made a vow to herself all those years ago never to let him know.
She’d walked through hell, sacrificed her soul, and bled tears.
She didn’t do all that for nothing.
“I said I fell.” She lifted her chin, narrowed her eyes, and muttered the words through her clenched teeth.
“Don’t fucking lie to me. You know I hate a liar.”
“If you hate me so much, it shouldn’t matter to you how I got these.” She turned for the door, needing to get away.
She grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. His hand slammed down on the door and slammed it shut before she could get out. “We’re not done, Ginny.”
Anger rose up in her chest like a thousand fires. She was sick and tired of being told what to do.
She was supposed to be broken, to come to heel like an obedient pup. But she was all out of submission.
She rounded on him and shoved him back as hard as she could. She could feel her wolf rising inside her body, wanting to be taken off the leash and wanting to lash out.
Her head fell back, and she dug her fingers into her palms. “Jaxon, leave it alone.”
“I can’t…” His phone rang, diverting his attention.
She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on sucking in deep breaths to calm her rampant heartbeat. She would not shift. She would not shift.
“Hello?” Jaxon kept his gaze on her as he spoke. His eyes narrowed, warning her she’d catch hell if she tried to leave now.
She never remembered him being quite so unforgiving. The Jaxon she knew was generous, kind, and endearing.
The years had left their mark on him. No doubt all of it had been her doing.
“Fine.” He ended the call and stuffed the cell phone back in his jeans pocket.
“Jaxon, I really need my keys back. I need to get home.”
“And where is that, I wonder? Home? Is that where you got those bruises?” His gaze darkened. “Did your husband do that to you, Ginny?”
“Leave it alone, Jaxon.” She held out her hand. “You don’t know what you are talking about. We are not in each other’s lives anymore. Just leave it.”
“Well, if pain is what you’re
into, you should have just said so. I guess I was too gentle for you back when we were together. Maybe that’s why you left.”
She flinched, his words slamming across her in outrageous indignation and pain.
So that’s what he really thought about her.
“Good thing we didn’t last then,” she countered and forced herself to shove away her emotions.
She couldn’t do this right now. Not with him.
She needed to get away from him and get back to her home. Otherwise the punishment would be severe.
“Is that what you want? To be away from me? You got it.” Jaxon shoved his hand in his pocket to retrieve the key fob. “I don’t force my presence on any woman. Human or Were.”
He frowned and pulled his empty hand out of his pocket. “I could have sworn I stuck it in that pocket.” He checked both pockets of his jeans.
“Jaxon, that’s not funny.” Anxiety rose in her chest.
“They must have fallen behind the bar.” He walked back over to the counter as she followed on his heels.
Panic rose inside her like a typhoon. Her heartbeat amped up and fear settled in the pit of her stomach.
He searched the floor behind the bar and the room behind the bar. She grabbed her phone and turned on the flashlight app to illuminate every nook and cranny where they might have fallen out.
His hand landed on something hard. He grabbed it and stood.
“Here.” He dangled the plastic fob between his fingers. She snatched them out of his hands.
A car engine started outside. He frowned. “I thought everyone left.”
“They did. I saw them all pull out when we were running inside.” An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach.
Jaxon hurried to the entrance.
“What? What’s wrong?” She ran up behind him just as he flung open the door. They both watched as her taillights disappeared down the driveway and onto the main road.
“That fucking witch took your car. How the hell did she take the car when we have the fob?” He ran his hand down his face and growled.
“Oh, god.” She stepped back. Nausea rose in her stomach, and she raced for the bathroom.
“Ginny? Are you okay?” Jaxon called after her.
She heard him trying to get into the bathroom, but she had locked the door behind her. She didn’t want him seeing her like this.
A few minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom.
“Are you okay? Are you ill?” He placed his hand on her forehead. He frowned, concerned etched into the set of his mouth and corners of his eyes.
“No. I’m pregnant.”
Chapter Three
“Fuck.” Betrayal struck through him like a hot blade of a silver knife.
Pregnant.
Of course she’d probably be pregnant. She was mated, wasn’t she?
“Jaxon, I need to get home.” Her gaze darted to his, and he saw something flicker through her eyes.
“I’m sure your mate… husband… whatever will understand that you’ll be late.”
“No, he won’t.” Her hand went to the arm where he’d seen the bruises.
“Ginny, those bruises aren’t from some sex game, are they? Does he… abuse you?” What the fuck kind of monster was she with? How’d she pick that over him? How could a male abuse his mate? It didn’t make sense.
“It’s none of your business, Jaxon. It really isn’t.”
“Protecting civilian Weres is my business. You are a civilian Were, so this is my business.”
“I’m not in the state of Arkansas. So this technically falls outside your jurisdiction. Which makes me not your business.” She lifted her chin and wrapped her arms around herself like armor.
“What state do you live in?”
“Louisiana.”
He felt his blood boil. Knowing how big a dick the Pack Master of Louisiana was, Jaxon figured he wouldn’t force any of the Weres to stop abusing their mates.
“Have you ever thought about leaving?”
“No. I can’t do that.” She shook her head and glanced down the empty driveway. “Right now I’ve got to figure out how to get home.”
“I can…” His cell phone screeched to life, interrupting their conversation.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped the screen.
“Hello?”
“Jaxon. I need an update.” Barrett Middleton’s deep voice came over the line. His Pack Master was known for getting things done and tying up loose ends.
“Tell me you have that witch,” Barrett said.
“I wish I could say that. But unfortunately I can’t.” His clenched his teeth. He hated letting his Pack Master down. He hated not coming through for Barrett.
“Did she not show?” His voice changed, became harder. “Because if that bartender gave us some bad intel, I want him handled. If you get my meaning.”
“That’s not it.” He took a deep breath. How could he explain that a ghost from the past showed up and distracted him?
“Then what’s the story?”
“The witch showed. She did admit to taking blood from her victims. But she said she’s not responsible for the killings.” He ran his hand through his hair, imagining Barrett’s face turning red with anger. “There was an incident at the bar tonight. Bartender got killed.”
“Did she do it?”
“I didn’t see her actually do it. But my guess is yes.” He shook his head. “She stole a car and got away.”
“Let me get this straight. We have a psychotic witch on the loose who not only is wanted for murder, but now she’s wanted for grand theft auto?” Barrett’s tone was even, but Jaxon could only imagine the look his Pack Master was giving him through the phone.
“In a nutshell, yes.” He grimaced.
“That’s not good enough!” Barrett growled. “I want that witch found by my Arkansas Guardians by the end of the week. I’m tired of that bitch getting away!”
“You got it, boss. I won’t let you down again.”
“See to it, Jaxon. Make it happen,” Barrett growled.
The phone went dead.
“I take it by the look on your face, that call didn’t go well.” Ginny looked at him under her lashes.
“You’d be correct. I need to get that witch back now.” Jaxon glanced up at the sky. The sun was dipping low, and soon it would be dark.
“I need to get my car back.”
“Seems we are in the same boat. It looks like we are stuck together.”
* * *
“Fuck.” Barrett ended the call with Jaxon and slammed the cell phone on his desk.
“We don’t have her, do we?” Ryker looked up at him from his seated position and steepled his fingers together.
“No. Jaxon saw her, but she got away.”
Ryker tensed and sat up in the chair. “How the fuck did that happen?”
“He didn’t elaborate.” He rubbed his temple and tried to rein in his temper. Jaxon had been eager to go on this mission, to bring back the Witch of Yazoo and get her back to Mississippi. Barrett didn’t want the relationship with Jack Welbourn, Pack Master of Mississippi, in peril. Alliances were broken for lesser offenses.
Barrett had made a promise to Jack, and he intended to fulfill it. He needed to capture that witch.
“Shit. Bet he got distracted by a piece of ass.” Ryker hissed.
“With Jaxon, it’s always a woman.” He wasn’t sure why that was. He knew about Jaxon’s past and how he’d been heartbroken over some female. This was long before Jaxon had joined the Guardians. Before he’d made his commitment to the state of Arkansas.
If some woman had broken Barrett’s heart, Barrett sure as fuck would steer clear of females. Not Jaxon. Whenever the Were had time off from a mission, he had the females lined up. A new female every time Barrett turned around.
Yet another reason why Barrett intended on never mating. He wasn’t getting sucked into the female mind fuck.
“Want me to go down and handle it? He’
s in the southern part of the state, right?” Ryker looked at him.
Barrett nodded. “Yeah, head on down there, but keep it on the down low. I want to see if Jaxon makes up for this and gets her on his own. But keep me updated on what’s going on.”
“You got it.” Ryker eased out the chair and grabbed his sunglasses off the desk before heading out the door.
Barrett eased back into his leather chair and reached for a file on the corner of his desk: Jaxon’s file.
Maybe if he researched Jaxon’s past a little bit, he could get a better read on how to help his Guardian.
He flipped through the pages until he came to the very last page. His finger stopped on a name that had a familiar ring. Ginny Wilson.
He turned his computer on and typed her name into his database of werewolves. A few short seconds later, her picture popped up on his screen.
Ginny Wilson, AKA Ginny Boudier
“Fuck.” It was like a punch in the gut.
Ginny Wilson wasn’t just the girl who had broken Jaxon’s heart.
Ginny was the daughter of the most dangerous Pack Master in the States. She was the daughter of Edward Boudier, the Louisiana Pack Master who’d managed to capture, torture, and kill two of his Guardians.
He’d never actually seen Boudier’s daughter, and people rarely mentioned her. In fact, it had been years since someone had brought up Ginny’s name. As the years had gone by, Barrett had just assumed the daughter had died.
He took a deep breath and shook his head. Jaxon had been lucky to dodge that bullet. If he had ended up with Ginny, then who knew how his life would have turned out.
At least he wasn’t with her now and hadn’t been for years.
Jaxon’s ex was their enemy.
Chapter Four
Ginny watched Jaxon walk over to his Harley. The muscles across his broad shoulders flexed with each step he took, reminding her how powerful he really was underneath that cotton T-shirt. She remembered how it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, held against his chest. It was the safest place in the world. She’d not felt like that in a thousand years.
She studied his motorcycle. It was shiny chrome with hints of red painted on the gas tank and the fenders. It was a far cry from the ’69 Mustang he’d driven her around in when they were younger.