Red Havoc Guardian (Red Havoc Panthers Book 4)

by T. S. Joyce

  “You’re a grizzly!” Ben yelled.

  “Thank you?” Jaxon said, looking confused, the idiot.

  “All I wanted was a panther crew. Simple. We could hide, we could avoid registration. Not a single one of you listened when I initiated you into this crew. Panther mates only, or no mates at all. Now we’ve got a fucking menagerie!”

  Annalise spoke up. “But I like grizzlies, not panthers. Jaxon’s hot.”

  Jaxon winked at his mate. “Thank you, baby.”

  “Nope.” Ben walked out. There was no more explanation, no more yelling. He just left, and his mate Jenny followed with an oh-shit look on her face. “Greyson, get her out of here by morning!” he yelled over his shoulder as he disappeared around the front of the house.

  “How rude,” Anson said, pulling his mate Kaylee close against his side. He kissed the top of her head with a loud smack. “Ben left the door wide open.”

  Kaylee yawned and snuggled closer to Anson. “Ben’s going to kill us all eventually if we keep disobeying him. I think he’s getting tired of being the C-Team.”

  “Why is everyone still here?” Greyson asked.

  “Because we’re bonding, asshole,” Barret scoffed. “Geez, Greyson, when was the last time anyone even wanted to hang out in your cabin with you? You’re welcome.”

  Greyson stifled the snarl in his chest. All he wanted to do was check on Gen. “Seriously, get out.”

  “Sometimes, I hate you,” Barret said. “Come on, Eden, lets blow this popsicle stand. Hey Greyson, you asked how you talk to her? Why don’t you use sign language? She already taught you your first words, Romeo.” Barret stuck up a middle finger. “Fuck.” He stuck up his other middle finger. “You.” He turned with a flourish. “Murder Kitty, out.”

  Eden snickered as she followed her mate, like Barret was actually funny and not the most annoying creature on the face of the entire planet. Love was weird.

  “If you hurt her, I’ll kill youuuu,” Jaxon sang as he was the last to leave. He slammed the door so hard Greyson’s house rattled, and he barely resisted the urge to throw the entire kitchen table at the door. He was so freaking angry all the time lately, and it was their fault. Everything had been fine when it was mostly a bachelor crew. Then they’d started pairing up, and now they wouldn’t stop petting each other, kissing and fondling and giggling, and fuck! Now Greyson, for the first time in his life, wanted all that. Their fault. It was their fault Genevieve, or Gen as everyone seemed to call her, was even here. He’d done bangaboarlander out of sheer desperation to get his panther to stop shredding him from the inside out since they’d made him want a bond and a relationship a man like him had no business wanting.

  Stupid Red Havoc. He’d picked the wrong damn crew, but what other choice was there? He was a black-marked panther with his only blood relation in shifter prison, and no one but Ben would’ve taken him.

  He muttered a soft curse and made his way to the bedroom door. He knocked loudly, but she didn’t answer, so he pulled the key off the top ledge of the doorframe and unlocked it. Please let her be decent.

  When he pushed open the door, his heart sank to the soles of his work boots. Gen was curled up on his bed on top of the covers, her shoulders shaking as she made sad, little sniffling sounds. Fuck. Every tear she was shedding onto his pillow was his fault.

  In an attempt not to startle her again, he walked slowly around the other side of the bed where she was facing the wall. She did jerk, and her eyes went wide, but she settled fast and covered her face with her hands. He didn’t like her hiding from him. The sheet with his information was lying on the bed in front of her as though she’d been reading it again. With a sigh, he pulled a pen from the small writing desk in the corner of his room and sat on the edge of the bed, right next to her. Usually he wanted lots of personal space, but it was different with her. They were both in this together, kind of. They’d both been duped by Willa, and both had barely survived a crappy day trying to navigate these tricky waters of a forced relationship.

  He started writing in tiny print on the back of the paper, and by the time he was almost finished, she was peeking out through her fingertips in curiosity.

  I fucked up. It’s okay that you’re deaf. I’m not perfect either. Far from it, obviously. I don’t know how to talk around females. Never had one to take care of before. I fuck it up before I ever get off the ground with a girl, so eventually I quit trying. I got on Bangaboarlander because an arranged match seemed way more possible than a love match for someone like me. Now you go. Why did you want an arranged match? P.S. I’m really sorry how I reacted.

  Gen sniffed, so he stood and got her a box of tissues from the bathroom. He didn’t know what this said about him, but Gen was really fucking cute when she cried. Cheeks all pink, full bottom lip poked out so far he wanted to bite it, eyes so blue they looked like crystals. Even her mussed hair was sexy. What he didn’t like was the smell of her sadness. It made his panther want to defend her.

  Gen read it twice. He knew because he watched her pretty eyes move back and forth over the paper then back to the top. A soft smile curved her lips. I’ve never had a man apologize before, she wrote in pretty cursive letters with hearts dotting her Is. You surprise me. And then irritate me. And then surprise me again.

  It won’t get any better, he wrote under her response. There is a hundred percent chance I’ll be horrible at being a mate.

  Me too.

  He chuckled and pointed to his question again. Why did you want an arranged match?

  The smile dipped from her lips immediately, and he had to fight the urge to scoop her up and hug her. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t a hugger. He was a fighter. Fight everything, embrace nothing. Her vulnerability was tugging at all his instincts now.

  He watched her scribble the pretty loops of her words. Watched the graceful arch of her hand. She was a leftie. Cute. Different. Gen was definitely different. Interesting. Beautiful. Broken. That part was easy to see. She cried too much to be whole.

  She handed him the paper, but hesitated on letting it go, as if she didn’t know if she really wanted him to read it. And now she wouldn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she laid her head on the pillow and fiddled with a loose thread on the bedspread.

  Nonchalantly, and just because he felt like it, Greyson scooted closer to her before he read.

  I was in a family group. The females weren’t nice, and neither was the silverback I pledged to. I was at the bottom, and I didn’t want to be there anymore, but I didn’t really have a plan for a crew either. I went on Bangaboarlander because I’ve seen it match some great couples before. I was hoping for it to work on me so I didn’t have to feel like I was at the bottom of anything anymore. I don’t want to be less-than.

  Greyson read the last line three times. He knew all about feeling less-than.

  “Can you read my lips?” he asked.

  She nodded, eyes on his mouth.

  Greyson held up the information on him. “Some of this is wrong, but some is right. My dad is in shifter prison.” He made a ticking sound behind his teeth and shook his head. “I don’t talk about this. You seem easier to talk to because…” Well, she couldn’t repeat anything or talk shit about his family.

  Because I’m deaf and quiet, she mouthed.

  He expected anger in her eyes, but her vivid blue gaze was steady, open, curious.

  Honesty was best. “Yeah.”

  What did he do? she asked, forming each word slowly. Her lips were pretty. Soft, full, colored with some petal-pink lip gloss that matched the blush in her cheeks.

  Greyson swallowed hard. “He killed someone. It was a challenge for Alpha that had been brewing for a long time. Only it happened in public. It was an uncontrolled Change for both my dad and the man he ended up killing. It was bad. Bloody. It wasn’t an easy death, and there were human witnesses. Human law enforcement got involved. He’s got two more years. I visit him every couple of weeks. He’s been in there since I was seventeen.” Greyson cl
enched and unclenched his jaw. “The sins of my father followed me. The crew I grew up in banished me immediately, and no crew would take in the son of the man who had killed another shifter in front of a human crowd. I wasn’t good enough for a long time. I thought you should know the bad, so you can run if you want to.” Greyson shrugged a shoulder up and dropped it again. “I thought you should know I am also less-than. I understand.”

  Genevieve sat up and wiped her damp cheeks. With a sniff, she straightened her spine and sat cross-legged, stuck out her hand for a shake. I’m Gen.

  Greyson stared at her hand for a moment and huffed a soft chuckle. He didn’t deserve it, but she was offering him a start-over. He slipped his palm against hers and gripped it. Her skin was warm, and her hand wasn’t shaking anymore. She wasn’t scared of him now. Good.

  He shook her hand gently. “I’m Grey.”

  Her lips curved into a stunning smile, and her eyes brightened. They sat there on the bed, two strangers locked in a handshake, embarking on the beginnings of something big, or something painful—it was impossible to tell which yet.

  Either way, they were in this together.

  Chapter Six

  Ever the early bird, Gen slid her headband into her newly straightened hair, careful of her drying nails, painted bright pink because she wanted Greyson to think she was pretty. She’d also filled her single suitcase with mostly lingerie because, admittedly, she was a hoarder of lacy things. The only problem was, she didn’t have very many outfits and she’d been traveling for a few days to get here, so now she needed to do laundry. Last night, when she’d moved her stuff into the vacant 1010 trailer, she realized very quickly that there was no washer and dryer. So, on today’s agenda, she would find a laundromat.

  Also, admittedly, she was equal parts excited and nervous to get out of the bedroom and see Greyson again. He’d kept his distance last night, disappeared until late, and came back in with no explanation. He’d simply twitched his chin toward the couch and mouthed, You take my bedroom. I’ll sleep out here.

  That was when she went directly into his bedroom, zipped up her luggage, and made her way outside. She couldn’t have him sleeping on a couch while she took his bed. He’d caught up to her before she even got off the porch, and this time, when he pulled on her luggage, she let him help.

  Gentleman that he apparently was, he led her to the 1010 singlewide trailer like he knew her mind, and even ushered a little mouse out of the bedroom when she balked. Probably because she’d jumped up on the bed like a fraidy cat. She couldn’t help it. She was tough about most things, but mice scared her on some primitive level. They always had.

  Before he’d left last night, Greyson had looked as though he wanted to say something. His eyes had gone serious as he helped her off the bed, one hand on hers to steady her, one behind his back in a formal and stiff gesture. He frowned and parted his lips, but seemed to change his mind. The second her feet had hit the floor next to the bed, he’d pulled his hand away from hers and nodded a goodbye, turned and left her staring after him.

  With each encounter, Greyson surprised her. The shifter boys she’d grown up with were cocky and loud. Abrasive almost, and Sean, the silverback in her family group, had made her distrust men altogether. But Grey was quiet and reserved, but with steel in the way he carried himself. And he was nice to her, sensitive to her submissiveness, and caring in little ways. Like helping her from the bed, making her cereal, and carrying her luggage. He did things for her without boasting or trying to get brownie points. He just did them.

  Being deaf sucked balls, but there were advantages to it, too. She’d become a great observer and had a sixth sense whether people were good or not by the little things they did—how they held eye contact, the softness of their gaze, the empathy on their face if someone was in trouble. But even if she could tell Grey was a good man from all those things, the fact that he’d exposed his neck and tucked his dominance away just to make her more comfortable proved there was much more than met the eye with him.

  Even in the span of a single day, she could tell he was different from any man she’d ever met.

  Gen made her way out into the living room and smiled at the sack of groceries that sat on the table. When had he gone shopping? Were stores even open this early?

  Inside the sack was a plastic container of cinnamon rolls, a loaf of bread, and a six-pack of bottled waters. When she turned on the faucet, she quickly figured out why the water was included. The tap water came out a stream of brown. Gross.

  She opened the fridge to see a new gallon of milk, a carton of eggs, lunchmeat and cheese, and a small squeeze bottle of mayo.

  She smiled as she hugged the mayo to her stomach. Without her asking, he’d fed her.

  For the excuse to see him, she replaced the condiment and made her way out the front door to thank him. Only when she stepped onto the front porch, something horrifying was happening in front of the cabins, in a field of tiny white daisies. Two massive coal-colored panthers were in a battle that looked like it was to the death.

  Shaking in shock, Gen bolted across the porch, but Jaxon stepped in front of her before she made it down the stairs, warning in his eyes as he shook his head. Greyson and Ben have to do this. Grey broke rules.

  What rules? she signed in simple alphabet.

  Eden answered from where she stood beside the porch railing. Ben said you had to be gone by this morning. Greyson told him to literally fuck off. He said he was keeping you for another day. It’s almost over, Gen. Ben has to punish him.

  Chest heaving, Gen watched in horror as the cats clawed, hissed, and bit, spinning time and time again until the dust was kicked up. The wooden railing under her grip began to splinter, but that couldn’t be helped. She wanted it to be Ben’s neck in her grasp.

  Her inner gorilla was pulsing with power, begging for her skin. The fight dragged on for eternal seconds and, with each one that passed, it grew impossible to keep her skin.

  Jaxon grasped her arm and was yelling something, but she didn’t give a fuck about his words. He could keep them. Her body exploded, and the pain of the Change made the edges of her vision collapse inward. There were no Red Havoc woods anymore, no cabins, no sky, no grass. There were only the two panthers as she charged on all fours, and fuck the consequences of going rabid-gorilla on an alpha. The iron scent of Grey’s blood filled the air, filled her nose, filled her lungs.

  One of the cats sank claws and teeth into the other’s back. Was it Grey with his lips curled back in a scream of pain? Or was it Ben?

  Her knuckles blasted across the ground as she ran for them faster and faster. Who did she save? Who did she kill? There was no gray area for the gorilla. There was only red rage flooding every cell in her body.

  The cats disengaged, and the injured one ran for the woods.

  Gen skidded sideways to a stop, her hands and feet making deep divots in the dirt.

  The triumphant panther stood there tall and proud, chest out, eyes blazing gold, lips snarled back. It roared at her. Or screamed? She was the daughter of silence. His warnings, his fury, his bellow of vengeance, were wasted on ears that didn’t work. Definitely Ben. Grey wouldn’t have pulled that.

  Pissed, she slowly sidestepped toward the woods Grey had disappeared into, never taking her eyes from the alpha. Oh, she may be submissive, but that didn’t count when someone messed with one of her people. And Grey was apparently one of those to her animal. He was a stranger. He was her people. Stranger. Mine. My stranger. Confusion swirled in her head and chest.

  What was she doing? Charging the alpha of the crew wasn’t going to win her a place at Grey’s side.

  Slowly, she gave the massive cat her back, watching him out of the corner of her eye as she walked to the edge of Red Havoc Woods where Grey had disappeared. She didn’t need hearing to find him. The ground was speckled in crimson. A drop there on that dry leaf, a drop over there on that patch of moss, four drops on that stump in the middle of the path.

  T
he storm clouds hid the early morning sun, and the wind kicked up, urging her on faster. She went to the trees where she was comfortable. After rushing up one, she bolted across a thick limb and jumped, reaching for a branch on the next tree that would bear her weight. This was instinct—moving through the canopy like this. It was hand-over-hand, not thinking, not slowing, searching the ground for Grey. God, let him be okay.

  There.

  He lay across a moss-covered felled tree, licking deep claw marks that had shredded his forearm. His eyes were on her, but he didn’t stop cleaning the injury. When she moved to drop down to the forest floor, he curled his lips back and showed long, white, curved canines. So, she changed her mind at the last second and stayed put, high above him.

  She didn’t like people seeing her hurt either, so she got it. She understood, but she still couldn’t force herself to leave.

  Helpless to fix Grey’s hurt, Gen pressed her back against the tree and, twenty feet off the ground, forced her body to relax. One leg dangling down off the limb, she quietly watched Grey below.

  A few minutes passed before he stood and limped back in the direction they’d come. Gen dropped to the ground and followed at a distance. He never turned around to look at her, but he must’ve known she was there. Not once did he speed up and try to get away from her like Torren always did when he was hurt. Grey kept a steady pace until they reached the edge of the clearing with the cabins. He sat down, his long, black tail twitching in agitation.

  Confused, she walked a few paces into the clearing toward 1010, turned, and waited for him. He only stared back at her with troubled, golden eyes.

  Twitch, twitch, twitch. His tail swished through the leaves, but Grey didn’t move to follow.

  Gen made her way to the trailer and looked back, but Grey was gone like he’d never existed at all. Grey Ghost.

  He’d run like Torren after all, but he’d done something utterly baffling first.