Fueled by Lust: Cato (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Celeste Prater

  Ludo stepped behind the enraged woman to block the altercation from the other customers. His wide shoulders worked great as a shield. He raised his eyebrows in question and Cato shrugged. He had no idea how he’d gone from invisible to the main attraction in mere seconds. He turned his attention back to the drama queen when she poked him in the belly.

  “How dare you call me easy and you can’t make me leave. You act like you own the damn place, you ass. You’re the one that needs to go. This club is for women, not guys.”

  Cato chuckled and sat back down. “That’s your third mistake tonight. Assumption—in case you’re confused. The second was assault. I am the owner. One of four to be exact. I’m pretty sure they’ll agree with your punishment. Ludo. Would you see this young lady out? Her friends may stay, unless they need to take her home. Tell the door staff she’s barred from returning and call the police if she gives you lip.”

  Ludo winked and Cato could tell he was fighting a grin. “Sure thing, boss. Get your things, miss. Quietly please.”

  Cato had never asserted his role as part owner of Heat Seekers and hoped he’d never have to do it again. He couldn’t fathom how these males did this every night. He didn’t mind a little aggression in a woman, but her reaction was way over the top. He wondered if she was like that outside the club or if the environment gave her a sense of entitlement. Whichever it was, the female had rapidly descended from her throne and abdicated. Head lowered and bottom lip trembling, she allowed her friends to shuffle her from the club. Ludo was not far behind. Crap! If he’d felt tired before, it’d just amplified by a thousand and drop-kicked him in the ass.

  When Ludo returned from the parking lot, Cato shook his head, and stood. “I’m getting the fuck out of here. Now I know why Drusus roped off his perch in the corner. Remind me never to sit at the bar again, will you?”

  Ludo laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Nice call, Cato. She’s always been a little wild in here, but you drove her over the edge. The guys won’t be sad to see her go. She finally picked on the wrong male. You should have seen your face. It was priceless. Maxim won the bet on how long it’d take before she grabbed your junk.”

  Grunting, Cato waved at a laughing Ferox and headed to the exit. “I wouldn’t put it past Maxim to have set that whole thing up. Uh, why are you following me out? I can find my truck without any help.”

  Ludo continued to flank him to the door. “I’m just making sure you don’t get ambushed. You’ve no idea what lengths a woman will go to if she feels slighted. Have you forgotten Nikos’s encounter with mace when he had the bachelorette party thrown out for pulling him off the stage?”

  Pushing the door wide, Cato glanced up and down the sidewalk. “I forgot about that. I’d mist out, but I just recharged. I don’t want to waste the effort after all that trouble. I’ll let you walk me out as long as you promise not to tell Maxim. I get enough of his shit without handing it to him.”

  Ludo laughed. “Sure. I’ll just tell him I was making sure the girls hadn’t tried to damage the building.”

  Cato grimaced. “That’s happened before?”

  By the time they reached his truck, Cato had learned the vicious, devious depth of a slighted woman’s mind. The building and property had been egged, spray painted, bushes ripped from the ground, rammed by vehicles, and on the most memorable occasion, the sign ripped from the building with a rope and drug down the street. Cato realized how much Drusus and Severus kept from him. Hell, he had plenty of time on his hands to help if he’d just let the computers do their own thing. An idea came to him.

  “Would motion sensors close to the building and video monitoring at strategic locations help? I know you have video inside, but I could rig you up something on the exterior.”

  Ludo nodded enthusiastically. “Hell yeah! If I could have a few minutes head start on the culprits, it’d make my life easier. They see me roaming the area and they hide. As soon as I’m back inside, they have at least an hour of damage time before my next rotation. I’d have to plant at least five warriors to cover all areas. I tried that once and they were bored out of their skulls. Volunteers are nonexistent.”

  Cato nodded and got in his truck. “I’ll draw up a design and get it to Severus when he gets back. We’ll get you hooked up.”

  “That’s good, my brother. Glad you came by. You got plans tonight?”

  As the truck engine came to life, Cato shook his head. “I’m heading home. I think I’ve had enough excitement for one night. See yuh.” He waved at Ludo and headed down the street. The temporary respite from worrying about his Angeli left him as fast as he’d received the slap from alpha girl. He wanted to see her, yet knew he’d end up in the same predicament Petrus had found him. He couldn’t continue ignoring his health.

  Twenty minutes later, he drove up the winding path leading to his home. It was peaceful here. He’d purposefully found land close enough to the city, yet far enough on the edge to afford him privacy. The wooded landscape brightened as the vehicle passed numerous motion sensors placed strategically around the extensive property. As his truck rounded in front of the house, the interior lights activated. He smirked at the false sense of homecoming. He’d been greeted by an empty structure, nothing more. Parking the truck, he sat back and stared at the home he’d built five years ago. Back then he’d been full of hope at the prospect of a mate entering his life and filling it with love and children. Time had taken the edge off his youthful exuberance. Now it seemed a ridiculous notion to be one male rambling about the monstrous, log cabin and no one to share it with.

  The two-storied split-level boasted a tall, jutting, arched roof. It showcased the luxurious, great-room interior through large, thick-paned, glass panels lining the higher level and four at the stone-columned entranceway. He’d never liked the feeling of being enclosed and the design allowed him to watch the wildlife roaming freely on his property.

  The first level extended out from either side of the main entrance. To the right were the master bed and bath and to the left, a study, game room, and multiple guest bedrooms. He’d added a second level above the master wing to house his TV theater room. This was where he spent the majority of his time. It had become popular with the other warriors when they’d discovered football.

  He was happy to see the grounds were groomed within an inch of perfection. He had Ciprien to thank for that. Ciprien was of the Topiaria Insedi breed and the love of horticulture flowed through his veins. If not for him, Cato knew he would have driven home to a jungle.

  Releasing a resigned sigh, he reached over to pick up his handheld from the seat and spotted a brown bag on the floorboard. Pulling it forward, he opened it and promptly cursed. “Damn! I forgot about the cat!” Cato hopped out of the truck and looked in the back.

  Donk sat perched on the purple suitcase. His tail slowly undulated at the tip like he was just marking time until his human got his shit together.

  Cato laughed and scooped him up. “Hey, buddy. I thank you for your patience. Now, don’t get pissed, but I have to put you down. I can’t carry you and the rest of this stuff at the same time.”

  Thankful the cat decided to play fair and not trip him up for abandoning him at the club, Cato rewarded him with a bowl full of prime cat food and a belly rub before encouraging him to try out his new bed. Curled up and guarding one of the toys Petrus had the presence of mind to acquire, Donk yawned, flipped to his back, and effectively dismissed him for the night. Cato chuckled. “Petrus is right. It’s your world and I’m just visiting.”

  Stifling a yawn, Cato made quick work of a tepid shower and sought out his own bed. He’d hoped that it would’ve been a fast, lights-out event, but he was unable to keep his thoughts from running amok. He wished he could call the hospital and see if Angeli was okay, but what the hell would he say? Hi, can you give me a progress report on Jane Doe? No, I’m nothing to her. I’m just curious. Inferni! He flipped to his side and punched the pillow into shape. Go to sleep, dipshit. The sooner you d
o, the faster you’ll wake.

  Still, sleep eluded him. He thought about Caelius’s unrelenting urge to track down his mate and knew this wasn’t an anomaly among the warriors. The ones that had been around for years just hid it better. They were all listening to an internal clock quickly ticking by as they waited for their other half to miraculously appear. Many still held self-loathing for squandering their time on Insedivertus by not pursuing what was prolific at one point. They each felt they might’ve had a chance to save their female had they claimed them sooner. Cato knew it was a waste of energy to dwell on what might have been. Other males had claimed their mates and that hadn’t worked out for them. All were lost, no matter the diligence.

  “Fuck it!” Cato pushed the sheet aside and rose from the bed. He flipped the light switch and strode over to his closet. He hesitated for a brief moment, then slid the oak panel aside. The purple case appeared tiny and fragile among his things. He knew it wasn’t the past that had his eyes refusing to close. It was the future. What was in the small, rectangular container that might help him discover what his future held…or didn’t?

  Calling himself all kinds of fool, he snatched it up and brought it over to the bed. “Forgive me, sweetness.” He laid it on the mattress and unclipped the cords he’d attached. A lavender and citrus aroma drifted to his nose. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He squashed the insane urge to flip the contents out and wallow around in her things. Gently, he pulled each item of clothing from the case, folded it, and set it to the side. He refused to dwell on her undergarments, even though he made quick note that she had a nice collection of lingerie.

  One item of clothing looked out of place. The ugly, orange shirt didn’t fit in with her color preference toward teal, deep blue, purple, red, and black. As he slid it from the case, something hard glanced off his wrist. He turned the material over and stared at the white, plastic tag attached to the breast pocket. “Welcome to Bakers” was spelled out in dark orange text, and below were four letters that made him smile. “Luna.”

  Cato turned and sat on the bed. He ran his thumb across the indented, black font and grinned. “Finally!” he shouted to the ceiling. He now had her name. And what a fine name it was. “You are the moon, and I the tide.” Snorting at the sappy words he’d spoken aloud, Cato folded the shirt, set it with the others, and returned his attention to the luggage. Varying hygiene products lay scattered along the bottom. He now knew which shampoo made her hair soft as silk. He placed each item on his nightstand and made a mental note to find a zippered bag to house her bath products so they wouldn’t spill on her clothes when he repacked the case. Washing her clothes and airing out the bag might help, too. He thought he caught a lingering whiff of the dumpster.

  Frowning, he found himself disappointed at the empty case. She must have packed in haste. A low growl issued from his throat at the thought of her scrambling to remove the cuff and haul ass before Bryan returned. Sorry bastard. You’re going to have a serious date with hurt when I get my hands on you.

  Deciding he should be happy to have at least learned her name, Cato turned the case so he could repack her clothes. At the movement, something shifted inside. Eyes narrowed, Cato peered back into the luggage and spotted two, thin straps tied into a bow along the front crease. Releasing the material, he yanked on one string and a panel lifted. Pushing it back, his eyes widened at what he’d discovered.

  She’d hidden what appeared to be three items very special to her heart, if the well-worn look and feel were any indication. He pulled out a dark, leather-tied journal the length and width of a standard notebook. The initials LJ were burned into the grain. He assumed this contained her personal writings and immediately decided it was off limits. He reluctantly set it aside. He ran his fingers over a thin, soft-brushed, leather case. Lifting the front flap, he stared in amazement at the reveal of numerous colored pencils lined in perfect rows. Each was bound by a small elastic catch. From the varying lengths, he could tell they’d been used often. The wire-bound sketch pad filling the bottom of the suitcase made sense. She’d spoken to the hotline operator about her aspirations of becoming a tattoo artist. The curiosity to view her work was superseded when he noticed the edge of a black velvet pouch peeking from behind the pad. Sliding it out, he grinned as he held it aloft.

  “Oh, my lovely Luna. What have we here?” he purred. Cato already knew what he’d find as he stretched the top open. He found himself pleased to see the purple, seven-inch vibrator still encased in unopened plastic wrap.

  “Well, I now know purple is your favorite color, Angeli. But, if I have my way, you’ll learn to love things greater than seven inches.” Cato looked down at his cock growing long and thick from his groin and laughed. “You really do have selective hearing, don’t you? Down boy. I’m saving you for the real thing, if she’ll have me.” He opened his dresser and placed the pouch under his socks. She wasn’t getting that back. Not unless he personally handed it to her.

  Convincing his dick to go back to sleep and leave him alone, Cato reached inside the case and lifted the sketch pad out. For several moments, he gazed in wonder at the first etching. She’d held no fear as she’d placed the bold strokes and wash of color. Her talent was evident in the realistic rendering of a pride lion guarding his family. The second drawing took his breath away. He couldn’t fathom how she’d made the image with pencils alone.

  The utmost tip of a mountain rose out from a shimmering, flat blanket of white mist reaching far into the distance. Eerily, the cap appeared to have risen from the thick fog to gaze upon the magnificent scene dominating the skyline. The uppermost atmosphere had deepened to a dark purple with the barest sliver of the setting sun casting iridescent rays of turquoise, gold, and teal upward from the horizon. Fat cloud bellies caught the beauty and held it for an eternity. It struck a memory of a long ago trip through the Montis mountain range with his father. The night had begun shifting to day and all had been right in their world. His skin shivered at the feeling of being home.

  Something slid from between the pages, drifted to the mattress and drew him back to the present. It was a photo. Lifting it, he gazed at the young, dark-haired Marine staring back at him. The copious amount of dust on his boots and the tent flap in the background alluded to a desert deployment. The young man held his thumb up to the camera and a wide grin told the world he was having a wonderful day. Cato rubbed a finger across circular distortions on the photo. Were these made from her tears? His chest tightened at the thought of her having experienced such a great loss. Turning the picture over, he read a date from two years prior and the name Devon Jasper.

  The weight of the day crashed around Cato’s head. He fought to stay awake as he placed her things back into the suitcase and set it on the floor. He flipped the light off and groaned loudly when his head hit the pillow. He drifted to sleep with comforting images of pretty pencils, a setting sun, and a long, silky braid swaying in a mountain breeze.

  Chapter 8

  With the press of a button, Cato felt relief wash over his body. At the crack of first light, he’d returned to the hospital and found Luna housed in a ward set aside for indigent patients. She was receiving adequate care, yet not at the level he wanted. Seeing drug addicts handcuffed to bed rails and psychiatric patients wailing in distress and roaming within the same room as his Angeli had nearly broken his mind. He wasn’t naïve. The hospital couldn’t afford to assign the best doctors or run expensive tests on someone that couldn’t pay. It was a business and had to survive in order to help others.

  The hospital computer system had been an easy hack. He was still disturbed at how quickly he was able to access her records. A few strategically placed Trojan programs found home in the system and anyone trying to access her records from outside the hospital would be scratching their heads and wondering why their computers had fried. Twenty minutes later, the bill was settled by a secret benefactor and more set aside for continued care. He had more money than he could ever spend and nothing was too g
ood for her. The assignment of top doctors, nondisclosure of her status, and her immediate transfer to a private room were his only stipulations for the funds to remain in place.

  The receipt of the anonymous text to the hospital administrator became evident when staff poured into the room and prepped Jane Doe for the move. Cato adamantly refused to reveal her name in the system. Once she was identified, he was positive she’d eventually be linked to Bryan. He didn’t want the ass anywhere near her.

  Cato remained in mist form and accompanied her whenever the hospital staff rolled her out for another scan or diagnostic test. When they were alone, he’d reform and talk to her about Insedivertus, his friends, and any other inane subject he could think of. When Petrus wasn’t around to goad him into eating or resting, he needed to hear his own voice or he might go mad with worry. Three days and he’d yet to see signs of significant improvement.

  Late in the afternoon, the newly assigned and somber doctors gathered around her bed and discussed next options. Yesterday, he’d shared their hopefulness when they’d removed her from the induced coma, yet that’d quickly vanished when she failed to wake. All scans showed clear and she had no infections. They were baffled. “Wait and see” became a curse inside Cato’s mind. Helpless, he listened to their promise to meet again in the morning.

  At their departure, Cato drifted to the side of the bed and watched as her chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. Half her face remained swathed in bandages from the trauma to her cheek and scalp. What little he could see remained swollen and marred with dark bruises. He reformed and touched the dainty fingers protruding from the end of her arm cast. Ragged, torn nails told the story of her valiant effort to live. Knowing he had less than two hours before the staff returned, Cato pulled a chair close to the bed and sat next to her. Gently, he placed her hand into his and leaned back.