“Oh shit.” Samantha rested her hand on her growing belly.
“What really worries me is how Rock will react if he finds out by pack law I am mated.” She shivered from the thought. “And not just mated to one werewolf, but to three.”
“Speak of the devil.” Samantha nodded her head, and Simone spun around, her heart flying to her throat.
“I’ve got to go talk to him.” Heated desire clenched her insides when she noticed Rock Toubec get out of his truck at the end of the block. “Will you keep an eye on Jere?”
Samantha grabbed her arm. “You can’t just go prancing over there to him.”
“Why not?” She watched him close his truck door, the same truck he had bound her in, and walk to the sidewalk, his back to them. Panic crept through her. She hadn’t seen him in days, and didn’t want to let him get away.
“You’ve got to make him come to you,” Samantha hissed, pulling harder on her arm.
Frustration clamped down on her heart, forming a pain in her chest that made it hard to breathe. He was going to get away. “He doesn’t see me. What do you want me to do? Whistle for him?”
Samantha laughed. “You’d get every stray wolf on the block that way. Why don’t we just start walking in that direction?”
Simone would have preferred to jog. Rock had disappeared into a hardware store on the corner of the block, but he was in there. And she had to see him. Even if all she could do was say hi, make sure he hadn’t forgotten about her. She had prayed all day for the chance to run into him, and she couldn’t let this opportunity slip through her fingers.
“Hi ladies.” Gertrude crossed the street, smiling. “Any luck finding work, Simone?”
Her friend wore a sweatshirt with the logo of the grocery store where she worked, but carried a bucket of cleaning supplies that bounced against her leg as she walked.
“Have you met Samantha?” Simone quickly made introductions, allowing Gertrude to fuss over Jere for a moment. “And, no. I haven’t been allowed out of the house since that second female was found murdered.”
She didn’t want to be having this conversation. Her attention was focused on that hardware store. Thoughts of that massive werewolf, his brooding gaze determining her feelings, had her insides clamoring to a boiling point.
“I guess that is the only plus side to being mated. I have more freedom.” Gertrude lifted her bucket, gesturing with it. “Or at least I am free to work until I drop.”
The door to Howley’s opened, Johann and a group of other wolves emerging on to the street. He spotted them, and turned in their direction.
Simone noticed Gertrude sag and groan at the same time. “Well hell,” she muttered. She turned to Simone, reaching with her free hand, and squeezing Simone’s arm. “Let’s get together and chat sometime. Right now, I’ve got to get out of here. The last thing I want is to be cornered by my mate right now.”
Her old high school friend hurried off, offering no further explanation.
“Sounds like you aren’t the only one who doesn’t like that law,” Samantha muttered before Johann reached them.
There was no way Simone could tell Johann she wanted to hang around so she could see Rock. But she couldn’t let him herd them away without having an opportunity to talk to him. Longing rattled through her, making it hard to think.
“I’ll be right back.” She hurried after Gertrude, before Johann or Samantha could utter a protest.
Chapter Thirteen
Gertrude was her only hope. She could remain prisoner under Johann’s roof for God only knew how long if she didn’t act quickly.
“Gerty, wait up.” Her friend was already halfway down the block.
“Don’t tell me you want to help me clean offices.” Gertrude turned toward a door leading to an accounting firm.
“Well, I might.” Simone glanced past her, willing the door to the hardware store to open, and Rock to appear.
“Trust me. There is no glamour to it. And after this I get to clean Matthew’s office. Since he’s my mate, I don’t get paid for that one.” She rolled her eyes, fishing through her pocket at the same time. She pulled out a keychain weighed down with keys.
Simone had to keep the conversation going, anything to keep Gertrude on the street just a minute or two longer. “You don’t sound like you are too happy with your mates. Are you still with all three?”
How long could a visit to a hardware store possibly take?
“Don’t get me started.” Gertrude struggled with her keys, and Simone reached for the bucket. Her friend smiled her thanks. “I’ll tell you this much.” She hushed her tone. “You would think with three mates I would have something to go home to.”
Samantha hurried up to the two of them, and grabbed Simone’s arm. “I told Johann I was coming to get you.” Her worried expression tied Simone’s stomach in a knot. “But Simone, some wolf is talking to him about you. Isn’t he the one who bugged you before we ate?”
This couldn’t be happening. Armand Gaston stood down the street talking to Johann, who appeared to be listening with interest.
“There is no way I am going down there right now.” She wanted to grab her daughter and run, but Johann held Jere, while he nodded, and listened to Armand.
“What’s going on?” Gertrude pushed open the office door with her foot, but looked down the street. “Is that Armand that Johann is talking to?”
“He is trying to get Johann to uphold pack law that says he is my mate.” Simone watched in horror when Johann started nodding, and then the two of them looked her way. “If Johann sticks to that nasty law Grandmother Rousseau made, I swear I will run again.”
Her insides churned frantically when Armand looked like he would walk in her direction. She looked the other way, desperate for Rock to appear, but his truck remained parked where it was, no sign of the wolf anywhere.
“Do you think he will dissolve it?” The ring of hope in Gertrude’s tone couldn’t be missed.
Simone urged Gertrude inside the office building. “Let me clean with you. I can’t let these werewolves corner me.” She needed a moment to think, knowing she would have to deal with an argument later from Johann, but not caring. “Samantha. Please. Tell Johann I’m working with Gertrude. He can’t argue that I need a job.”
“We can lock ourselves in here.” Fortunately, Gertrude seemed willing to help.
But Samantha looked worried. Simone grabbed her hand and squeezed it, needing her friend to understand her predicament.
“Tell Jere I will be home soon.” She smiled into her friend’s troubled eyes. “I can’t allow myself to get tied into a mating that will make my daughter and me miserable. Please understand.”
Samantha nodded, squeezing her hand. “Okay. But please be careful.”
An hour later, Simone didn’t know what else to offer to do, other than stand and watch Gertrude clean.
“Are you sure I can’t do more than empty trash cans?” She glanced around the dimly lit lobby of the accounting firm, with several adjoining offices.
“Seriously. I dust everything and then vacuum. I won’t be much longer.”
“Well, maybe I’ll wonder around outside a bit.” She noticed Gertrude’s quick questioning glance, but ignored it. “I’ll be fine. I only needed to get away earlier so there wouldn’t be a scene in front of Jere.”
“It’s not like the old days, is it?” Gertrude moved items off a desk, and sprayed it with a lemon-scented spray. “We took care of our own then. No one had to run from a wolf.”
“The law is on his side. That’s the problem.” Simone started toward the door.
“Well, it’s a fucked up law.”
Simone couldn’t have agreed more. It wasn’t right that a good bitch like Gertrude was miserable with three werewolves. But it was more incentive not to let herself fall into the same predicament. Johann would change the law, more than likely at the next pack meeting. But until then, she needed to steer clear of the three werewolves who had been assigned
as her mates. Armand wasn’t a worry on his own, but if he sought out help…well the last thing she wanted was to be gang-raped.
On her own, without Johann or Jere to worry about, keeping out of the paws of unwanted attention would be a cinch. She could use the phone in Howley’s, and she would call Rock. He had said she would be his. And now she would hold him true to his word.
“What do you mean you don’t know where he is?” She glared at the row of clean glasses opposite her, while sitting on a barstool inside Howley’s a few minutes later. “You’re the ranch manager, or that is what you said when you answered the phone. Why don’t you know where Rock is?”
“Don’t you get sassy with me, bitch. I remember when you were in pigtails and climbing trees with your tail hanging out.”
Simone couldn’t place who the ranch manager might be from his voice on the phone, nor did she remember ever climbing trees.
“Ok. Listen.” The thumping music in the bar began to grate on her nerves. “Contact your boss. Tell him Simone needs his help. I’m at Howley’s.”
He grunted and then hung up on her.
Great. Just great.
She couldn’t hang out at Howley’s indefinitely. Maybe Rock was still downtown somewhere. Sunlight warmed her when she pushed open the large wooden door to the bar, and stepped outside.
If only she had stalled Gertrude a bit longer before they entered to clean that office. Or maybe if she had come outside a bit sooner. She stared at the stall where Rock’s truck had been parked, empty stalls surrounding it for a good half a block.
Walls of glass windows filled with tempting displays distracted her. A few shops down she stopped to investigate headless mannequins dressed in schoolgirl outfits. Jere would look so adorable wearing new dresses to school every day.
“I see you’ve freed yourself of your keeper and your daughter.” Armand Gaston strolled toward her, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Go away, Armand.” She hoped her expression appeared bored, because inside her heart began pounding, feeling anything but bored.
“You better be nice to me, bitch. In fact, I have hopes of you being real nice.” Armand stopped inches away from her, reeking of onions.
“Fuck off.” She wanted to run, wanted to change enough to slap the cocky grin off his face with a few extended claws.
“Fucking is exactly what I had in mind.” The leer in his tone couldn’t be missed.
“Dream on, wolf-man.” She turned to face him, anger building inside her. “Your suggestion is preposterous. Now go away!”
He pulled his hands out of his pocket, putting her senses on full alert. Blood rushed through her, the change building inside her if she needed some muscle.
“A bit jumpy?” Armand laughed. He leaned into her, meeting her eye to eye.
She hated short men.
“You don’t impress me enough to get any reaction out of me.” She would go back to the bar. She couldn’t go back to Gertrude with Armand on her tail.
“Fucking you by force has its appeal too.” He grabbed her arm when she tried to walk around him.
His hands were sweaty, the moistness of his grip making her skin crawl. Her heart pounded now, blood surging through her veins, outrage consuming her.
“I doubt you have a cock big enough to even interest me.” She spat her words at him, enjoying the cruelty of them.
How dare this werewolf confront her like this!
His fingers slid around her arm, his sweat saturating her skin, curdling her blood, making her want to puke. His grip tightened, and he tried to pull her to him.
“You better watch your mouth, bitch.” His eyes narrowed, crow’s feet tracing lines to the edge of his face. “I could make you my mate within the next thirty minutes.”
“Is that all the time you can last?” She fought to pull her arm free.
A couple of shoppers passed them, giving curious looks but not saying anything.
“You would bore me to death,” she added, when the humans were out of earshot.
She yanked her arm free. At least inside Howley’s there would be fewer humans. The bartender would be werewolf, and she could make him call Rock.
But if there is a pack problem, he will call Johann.
She stormed toward the bar and grill. All her life she had managed her problems on her own. No one had ever been there to help her. If Rock wouldn’t come, this time would be no different than any other. She could take care of herself. She always had, and today would be no different.
It would be so nice to have someone in my corner though.
The darker atmosphere inside Howley’s made her hesitate for a second. Several men at the bar turned and gave her the once over. She snarled at them, piquing their interest.
Damn. She needed to get a grip on her actions. This wasn’t a new situation for her. So many months spent with Elsa and Rick under their protection, and now with thoughts of Rock, she had grown lazy. Her instincts weren’t fine-tuned.
How many times had she warded off an unwanted fuck? Armand Gaston was a wimp, a spineless, overfed werewolf. She had lived through aggressors twice his size. No one would fuck her unless she wished it.
Calm, slow breaths soothed her blood flow. Her heart relaxed in her chest. Muscles throughout her body softened, and she strolled to the bar, making eye contact with each werewolf who sat there.
But Armand was right on her heel. There was no time for idle chatter. She turned on him before he could speak.
“I thought I told you to leave me alone.” She put her hands on her hips, doing her best to look like a scolding mother.
His beady blue eyes glanced down the row of local riffraff, enjoying a brew before going home to their mates, or not having anyone to go home to. She didn’t have to follow his gaze to know none of them would interfere. The interaction between mated werewolves was personal.
But we aren’t mated.
“I have no intention of leaving you alone. You are my mate by law, and we are going to make that official, by force or willingness, your call.” He pressed into her, trapping her against the bar.
“I choose neither. Get that through your pea-sized brain.” She shoved against his chest with all her might, deciding a show of anger in the establishment would likely make him hesitate. “Or are you thinking with your other head? If that’s the case, then we are in trouble since I’m sure your dick is smaller than your brain.”
He tried to stop her, but she put muscle into it and pushed him away from her. Outrage turned his cheeks red, the color streaking down his neck. Or was it embarrassment? She didn’t care. He brought his own humiliation on himself.
“You need to learn a little respect.” He tried to grab her, but enough was enough.
The door opened, and Gertrude entered at the same time she slapped Armand across the face, her nails extended slightly out of anger. Bright puffy lines of red appeared on his cheek, giving her a warm feeling of satisfaction.
“I don’t need to learn shit from you.” The look of shock that she had just slapped him fed her confidence. “Now, are you going to show a bit of respect, and drop this foolish notion of yours?”
Gertrude edged nearer, looking concerned but possibly amused. “You need a ride home?”
“Sure. There isn’t anything here to entertain me.” The adrenaline pumped through her though, making her legs a bit shaky when she turned from Armand.
“I’m not through with you.” This time when Armand grabbed her arm it hurt. He pulled her side up against his chest, onion breath clogging her lungs. “You are leaving with me. I’ve talked to our pack leader already, verified the law is intact. You are mine, bitch, whether you like it or not.”
Panic about made her choke. Johann wouldn’t consent to this dim-witted werewolf mating her, would he?
Gertrude moved closer, touching her, her cool fingers burning Simone’s arm. She would not be trapped. No one would tell her what she could or could not do.
“Let’s go.” Gertrude’s voi
ce sounded far away.
Fire seared through her blood, outrage mixing with panic. Every time she inhaled, all she smelled was Armand, onions, determination, and lust. She wanted to puke, spit in his face, rip her arm from his grasp. But he held her tight, pulling, his sweaty grip making her skin itch.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about a pack law that will no longer exist by the next pack meeting.” She hated him for making her so mad. “Now get your fucking paws off of me.”
She pulled with all her strength, muscles growing in her, survival instincts beckoning the change. Her footing wasn’t steady. Armand was dragging her toward the door, forcing her to go with him.
She pulled her arm from Gertrude’s cool grasp, and formed a fist, ready to punch that determined look off of Armand’s face. The man was insane. There was no reasoning with him.
Sunlight flooded the room. The front door to Howley’s opened with a bang. A figure, larger than life, entered the bar. She couldn’t focus quickly enough. But all the nauseating smells of Armand suddenly disappeared.
Fury filled her nostrils, carnal rage, dangerous, terrifying. But she didn’t feel fear in response. Her insides danced with a new power. Triumphant. Adrenaline poured through her. Every bit of strength she possessed aided her, seemed to come to life. She fought to get free of Armand’s hold on her, dragging him toward her.
“Get your fucking hands off of her.” Rock Toubec bellowed loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear.
Armand let go. It took a moment to regain her balance. She stumbled a minute but then turned quickly, not wanting to miss Rock knock the tar out of Armand Gaston.
“I’ve got the law on my side.” Armand scurried around a few tables, running like a puny coward.
She about yelled at Armand, telling him just what she thought of him, making sure Rock knew what a weasel he was. But her words choked her, when large hands, hands twice the size of Armand’s, lifted her from the ground, and threw her toward the door.
“Get your fucking ass out to the truck. Now!”
She didn’t question the order. Pure rage surrounded her. She hurried out of the bar, not bothering to look back to see what would happen next.
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