by Alana Hart
“But the dogs,” she said, scrambling to her feet.
“What about them?”
“That’s why I came. I was going to get them out of here, bring them to my friend’s place.”
“Why?” His confusion turned to anger. “Are you actually a dogfighter?”
“No! We rehabilitate abused animals, get them to good homes.”
“You’re kidding me.”
She shook her head. She loved animals, more than she liked people. The things that people could do to animals… it sickened her.
Connor stared at her, his face a mixture of amusement and… admiration?
She thought he would argue, call her an idiot for such a worthless cause. But he simply nodded, barked at the kennel door, and all went quiet.
Casey didn’t look when he opened the door and got all of the dogs. Some were covered in blood. She didn’t think they could be rehomed, but they could stay on Mariam’s farm. The dogs followed a shifted Connor, his wolf body looking as battered as his human one. She followed behind them.
In the garage, Connor shifted again and pulled on a pair of coveralls, found her a set of keys, and loaded the dogs into the back of a van. He tossed in blankets for them. They did as he commanded and curled up and slept. She had all of the dogs settled and ready to go.
Aidan and Liam had gone to their bikes by the lake. She could hear them roaring to life now. She hesitated, the keys in her hand.
With everything she wanted to say to him, all that came out was, “Thank you.”
He nodded, his face grim. Still she didn’t get in the van.
“You have to go, Casey. My pack won’t allow you to live.”
“They’re going to punish all of you for letting me go, aren’t they?”
He cast his eyes to the floor. “Yeah.”
“Liam won’t be happy.”
“He isn’t.”
“They why is he doing it?”
“For me.”
“Why?”
He lifted his eyes, meeting hers with such intensity she felt her breath catch.
“Why do you think?”
She nodded, a lump making it too hard to try to speak. Her hand was on the door when she whipped around and hugged him, burying her face in his neck, breathing in the smell of him. He let her hug him, but his hands remained by his sides.
Finally, she let go, her throat too tight to do more than nod. She got in the van, gunned the engine, and allowed herself one last, long look at the sad man standing outside the window, at those beautiful bright eyes. And then she left.
The dogs lay quiet behind her, peaceful and free.
She passed Aidan and Liam on their bikes. Aidan watched her go, his face a mask of indifference. Liam shook his head and spat on the ground.
In five or six hours, maybe more because of the van, she would be in Maine, the dogs would run free, and she would never see Connor McKinnon again. But she would be alive.
Some small part of her wondered if it was worth it.
Chapter Thirty
Casey sat on the porch swing, a cooling cup of coffee in hand. The sun was just beginning to set, turning all of the red and yellow and brown leaves into a golden fire. Out in the field, Mariam threw a tennis ball, and fourteen dogs chased after it.
It had been three months since she got the dogs away from Frankie’s, and in that time Mariam had managed to turn the vicious fighters into sappy lapdogs. Some would never get placed in a home, but they would stay here with Mariam. Others would be ready for fostering by the New Year.
A great amount of satisfaction came from knowing that the dogs were safe, but Casey was done with that life. Too much was at stake when she assumed a different identity, stole from the sort of people she did. The last time had been the ultimate fuck up, and she was done.
A month after Casey arrived, Mariam had served them dinner on the screened porch out back where they could see the large kennels, all chain link but open to the sky, with doghouses in each.
The older woman, with her graying hair tied back in a braid, set down plates of eggplant parmesan and snapped her fingers in front of Casey’s face.
“Sorry, thanks.” Casey picked at her food.
Mariam chewed quietly for a while before starting up a conversation. “Frankie Sway’s murder was closed today. Cops decided a dogfighter killed by his own dogs didn’t need more looking into.”
Casey nodded. She had been following the news reports. His body and those of his men had been found several weeks after Casey got out of there. She knew he’d had a fight coming up in a few days, which meant those people arrived, saw the carnage, and left without notifying police. She’d heard it had been one of his cooks who found his men’s bodies decomposing, baked in the hot sun, and stinking with flies. The dogs were reported missing, but no more had been done to find them.
Mariam spoke, bringing Casey out of her head.
“Why don’t you take a vacation? Take your dad to Hawaii.”
“He won’t fly.”
“Take yourself to Hawaii. Get out of here for a while. Give yourself a break.”
Casey shrugged, the setting sun warm on her face.
“He don’t know you’re here, Case.”
Her eyes snapped to Mariam’s. “I know that. I’m not waiting for him.”
Mariam’s eyes were sad when she spoke again. “You sure?”
After that Casey made it a point to be smiling and helpful when Mariam was watching her. She knew Connor wasn’t coming for her. Why would he? She was an insignificant blip in his life, a problem that had caused more problems, and was now out of the way. She needed to forget him.
Maybe she would go to Hawaii. She’d always wanted to, and now that she didn’t have a job, and had more money saved up than she knew what to do with, she could just go and disappear. Stay in the tropics. Get drunk and fuck every Samoan she could find. Any guy would do as long as he had dark eyes.
It was a good idea. She stood, leaving her coffee behind to let Mariam know she was going to book the next flight to Hawaii when she heard the roar of a motorcycle.
Mariam heard it, too, because she called the dogs to follow her and put them in their kennels.
Casey watched the driveway, her stomach in a knot, as Mariam ran around the house, meeting her on the porch.
“Did they find you?” She was out of breath.
Casey didn’t know. Maybe Aidan was a better hacker than she gave him credit for. Maybe he had found her and the MC was finally going to kill her. Figures, she thought, she’d sat around and done nothing for three months and the moment she decides to go have some fun, they find her.
Only one bike came around the bend in the driveway, the overhanging trees making it hard to see the rider. Casey’s stomach clenched so tight she thought she was going to be sick. She should run, but where would she go? If whoever was coming was a shifter; they would catch her, so why prolong the inevitable?
The bike pulled to a stop in front of the porch, the motor cut, and silence hummed.
“Help you?” Mariam said. She’d grabbed her shotgun from beside the door and leveled it at the newcomer.
The rider stepped off the bike and pulled his helmet off. Casey’s heart slammed in her chest. Of all the people they would send to kill her, why did it have to be him?
Somehow, she found her voice, though it trembled. “Aidan’s better than I thought.”
Connor nodded and set his helmet on the bike. His hair had grown a little longer. He stayed where he was, his eyes on the shotgun. “Took him a while, but he traced a bunch of IDs given to stray dogs in this area. Seemed fitting.”
“Damn it,” Mariam muttered. “Well, you can go on back and tell your president that all you found was an old woman and her dogs.”
Connor turned to Casey, a question in his eyes.
She clarified. “I told her about your MC coming after me for messing up your job.”
“But you actually messed up her job, Mr. Murphy.”
&nbs
p; Understanding bloomed in Connor’s eyes. He stepped around his bike and came toward Casey.
“Hold up, stop just there.” Mariam cocked the gun, and Connor stopped, his eyes on Casey. “You just leave her alone, hear me?”
“I tried,” he said. “I can’t.”
Casey felt the bubble of hope in her chest burst. She ran down the steps, Mariam shouting, and flung herself into Connor’s arms. He caught her, wrapped his arms tight around her, holding her close, his face in her neck. And then he kissed her. Not some sweet, loving kiss, but the kind of kiss that made her toes curl and her stomach clench.
He broke the kiss and spoke into her hair. “They’re still looking for you. They won’t stop.”
“What do we do?”
He hugged her tighter. “We run.”
She met his bright eyes in the dusky light. “I was thinking of going to Hawaii.”
He smiled. “I was thinking somewhere farther away.”
“As long as it’s warm and you’re there, I’ll go anywhere.”
“Good.” And he kissed her again.
Keep reading for SAVIOR, book two in the Alpha MC: The McKinnon Brothers series.
SAVIOR
Book Two
Chapter One
Aidan McKinnon sat on his haunches in the snow, staring across the vast field. Thick flakes floated down and landed on his nose. He sniffed the air smelling cold, wet mud from the nearby creek, sap from the trees behind him, blood from the rabbit he’d eaten this morning, and the familiar scent of one of his pack.
Whoever was coming was still far off, but it was so cold and open here that the scent carried easily on the wind. He sifted his thick, gray fur, his blue-green eyes fixed on the horizon. He sat like that for another hour before seeing a black dot appear finally. And then he remained where he was and watched, as it got closer, growing larger, until finally Cormac O’Neill, one of his alphas, sat before him.
Showing his respect, Aidan bent his head and greeted Cormac, nuzzling under the old man’s neck. Cormac responded with a nudge of his head. When Aidan sat again, Cormac turned and headed back the way he had come. Aidan followed, leaving behind the woods he had called home for the last month. He didn’t look back.
They travelled over the snowy field, the sun setting behind them, throwing splashes of red over the stark white landscape, snowflakes dancing on the gusty wind. It wasn’t until after night had fallen that they reached the tiny village.
The village was no more than a few streets that led to another road for miles and miles before reaching town. Dirt roads slick with ice and slush wound through crooked little buildings. Cormac led Aidan behind an inn where he shifted into a tall, thin man with a thick gray beard, short gray hair, pale blue eyes, and a long nose. He began dressing in jeans, a cable knit sweater, and scaly cap as Aidan prepared to shift.
He hadn’t shifted in three months. Part of his punishment for helping his brother escape with a human had been remaining in the forest in Ireland as a wolf until an alpha came and released him. They had done it to him before, when he was seventeen and in love with the wrong girl. The punishment was meant to show Aidan what it was to be a shifter. Be a wolf for a while, live like a wolf, and remember who is was.
He remembered. It had been a freeing three months. Filled with cold and hunger, but freeing none the less. It was a lot harder to be a wolf when he didn’t have his pack to help him hunt, keep him warm, or protect him from predators.
But Cormac had come for him, so he was going home. He couldn’t wait for his Aunt Siobhan’s Shepard pie. And a bath.
First he had to shift into a human. Cormac waited patiently, leaning against the wall of the inn, his leather jacket with the howling wolf on the back zipped against the cold. He’d taken out a knife and a hank of wood and busied himself by the dim light of the moon.
Aidan relaxed, enjoying the feel of his fur, his lean muscles, his senses, and then he tensed, focusing on his shift. It took only seconds, but the pain of shifting after three months of refraining was like stretching after days of heavy lifting and running, his muscles screamed in protest. Finally, he stood on two slightly shaky legs, shivering, naked in the snow. Cormac handed him a handful of clothing.
Pulling on the same thing Cormac wore, including his own worn leather jacket, but minus the cap, Aidan ran his hand through his mass of curls and rolled his shoulders. His beard had grown in thick and long.
Cormac nodded and led the way around to the front door of the inn and entered the pub. They found a booth, ordered beer and stew, and sat quietly, waiting for their food. Aidan adjusted to his human form. Everything was a little different; his hearing a little less sharp, his eyesight not as keen. Still, he could hear the heartbeats of the handful of patrons in the inn; old men having a pint, still in their work clothes, a woman with her book, a few tired college-age kids having a drink over a map of Ireland.
It was quiet, the sound of cutlery to bowls and plates, thunks of mugs on wood, scrape of boot against the floor. Aidan took a breath through his nose, the scent of snow-dampened hair, boiled onions, and strong beer assaulted his nose.
“Got yeh a job,” Cormac said after a young woman brought their food and beer. Cormac’s voice was deep, low, and had an Irish lilt to it.
Aidan politely waited for Cormac to begin eating before picking up his spoon, the smell driving him crazy. “That was fast.”
“Aye,” Cormac removed his hat, ran a hand through his bristly hair, and sipped his beer. “It’s a job only you can handle. Emmett tried, but he ain’t got your skills with a computer.”
“What’s the job?”
“You’ll have to start teaching Emmett how to be more… you. Can’t be depending on yeh all the time for computer stuff.”
Did they assume Aidan was going to fuck up again? Not likely. He was done being anyone’s hero, even his brother’s.
He nodded his agreement.
“Man called and asked us to find his wife. She’s run off and he wants her brought back home.”
“States?”
“Of course.”
Aidan didn’t bother asking why the woman ran; he didn’t care, and it wasn’t their place to ponder over human issues. They would be paid for finding the woman and returning her home.
“Did you bring my laptop?”
Cormac smiled, somewhat sheepishly. “Been a bit outta the world. Too long in the Den. Didn’t know what a damn laptop was. Emmett caught me tryin’ to haul your desktop outta your room.” He chuckled to himself. Aidan only hoped the old man hadn’t damaged his computer. “Anyway, yeah, brought your laptop.”
“What’s her name?”
Cormac held his gaze and said, “Reagan Donahue.”
Aidan was glad they hadn’t started eating yet or he might have choked. He had thought, when Cormac came and got him out of the woods that his punishment was over. Apparently it hadn’t even begun.
He managed to keep his reaction to a simple blink. Cormac would hear his heart beating faster, but there was nothing he could do about that.
“Believe you knew her?”
Cormac’s pale eyes watched him from under the long forehead. Aidan nodded.
“Yeah,” Cormac said. “Dad was the drunk came and messed up our bar a few times.”
Aidan had no intention of reliving any of his time with Reagan, not with Cormac watching him like that.
“I’ll start a search as soon as I have my laptop.” His voice was even, unemotional. He didn’t feel anything, he told himself.
Cormac nodded, his mouth baring just the slightest smile, and picked up his spoon. “Our plane leaves in the morning.”
Once Cormac started eating, Aidan shoveled the food into his mouth. The broth scalded his throat, but the meat was tender, the onions soft, the carrots crunchy. The flavors so exquisite he thought he might die. Three months of rabbit and foliage was enough to make him never want to disobey the alphas ever again.
It felt good to sleep in a real bed, but after mon
ths of wearing fur, he spent the night shivering, even under a load of quilts. Still, it was better than waking every few hours to some sound and wondering if you were about to become a meal or the trophy for a human’s wall.
Cormac woke him before the sun rose. Bags in hand, they took a taxi to the nearest airport – an hour away. He waited until they were in the air, halfway over the ocean, before he cracked open his laptop. Cormac sat beside him, head down, eyes closed, but Aidan knew he wasn’t actually sleeping.
He typed Reagan’s name into the complicated search system he had created, and then waited while it brought up all of her digital history over the last ten years. He probably didn’t need all of this information, but it was good to have, good to know everything about his target before going into battle.
She had social media accounts, but rarely used them for anything more than reposting a silly meme now and then. Her emails to her sister in Hawaii were bland and sterile. He remembered her having three sisters and looked them up. One, as he saw, lived in Hawaii, another was in rehab, and the other had died of an overdose four years ago. Apart from her two sisters, Reagan had no family left.
The family she had married into, however, was large. Her husband, Hank Donahue, co-owned a construction company in New Hampshire with his two brothers and a sister. He and Reagan had been married for nine years and had no children, but they had plenty of nieces and nephews.
Aidan scrolled through photos of the family, searching Reagan’s face in each picture. She looked the same as she had ten years ago; thick brown hair, soft pale skin, warm brown eyes in an almost exotic face. The smiles she offered to the camera were tight, not reaching her eyes. They weren’t the smiles of the girl he used to know. As miserable as she had been when they met, the smiles she gave him always made his heart swell.
He mentally shook himself. He had to look at her as a target, not someone from his past, someone he knew intimately.
Aidan enlarged a photo of Reagan and Hank. He was a decent looking guy. All American type with the blonde hair, blue eyes, and former football player body. Why had she run away from him?