Wild Wolf Claiming

by Rhyannon Byrd

  “If this is what’s really happening, then he m-must have seen Viv at the club.” Her voice was kind of muffled, since her face was still pressed against his chest, her tears soaking into his Henley, but he could still make out the husky words. “Men tend to go a little crazy when they see her. But...why me? What have I done to draw his attention?”

  “You haven’t done anything. These bastards working for him are kidnapping beautiful women, and you’re a beautiful woman.”

  “Oh, God. Just...don’t.” She pressed her hands against his chest and pushed, forcing him to either be an ass or let her go, so he lowered his arms. Moving back until she was pressed up against the counter again, she gave him a dark look that made him think she was considering if she should kick him or just hit him. “You don’t need to lie to me, Elliot. I’m...heavy. I’m not like Vivian. Not at all. I’m...fat, and I—”

  “Whoa,” he cut in, holding his hand up. “Just wait and shut up for a second.”

  It almost killed him to see that lush mouth pressed into a hard, flat line. “What?”

  “Just don’t, okay? Don’t ever let me hear you call yourself that word again,” he growled. “I don’t know where you got a ridiculous idea like that in your head, but you are an incredibly beautiful woman, Skye. Every inch of you. Goddamn gorgeous.”

  She bit her lip, face so flushed she looked like she’d been standing too long beneath a sweltering summer sun. Then she suddenly went into motion and started pacing the small kitchen, one hand pressed to her forehead, shoving back her hair, while the other arm wrapped around her middle. “I’m trying to figure out the right thing to do here, but I can’t even get my thoughts straight.” She flicked him a searching look, then lowered her gaze and kept right on pacing, her nervous energy so sharp he could feel it in the air. “I have no freaking idea if I should even believe what you’re telling me, and I’m sick with worry over Viv, and I... I know I should call the police, but I... I don’t... I mean, I wouldn’t even know what to say to them.”

  Pushing his hands deep in his pockets, so he couldn’t get himself into trouble by grabbing her and hauling her right back into his arms, he said, “You don’t trust the cops because of Derek, right?”

  A crease formed between her brows as she frowned. “Yeah. And Viv, she wouldn’t want that. She hates cops. I mean freaking hates them.”

  “I can help you, Skye. I want to help you. We’ll figure this out and help Viv, too. All you need to do is trust me.”

  “And, God, that right there. It’s so...so crazy! What is it with you?” Her head shot up, her big eyes bright with emotion, and he figured she was finally losing her patience with everyone and everything. Or maybe it was her temper, because she even stamped her foot against the floor. “Why are you being so damn nice to me? You’re scaring the hell out of me!”

  Well...shit. “I’m sorry if I’m making you nervous. I just want to take care of you. Make sure you’re okay—that you have everything you need.”

  Looking completely baffled, she started to scowl. “You want to take care of someone you’re not even interested in? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Wait. What?”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, she pulled in a deep breath, and then blurted what sounded like the biggest load of bullshit Elliot had ever heard. “What you’re offering, it isn’t like a paid bodyguard or PI doing his job. You’re acting like you’re actually worried about what happens to me on some kind of personal level. But when a man is determined to take care of a woman like that, and that woman isn’t family or a woman who’s involved with a friend—you know, like part of his inner circle—then it usually means that he wants her. Or that he at least wants something from her. And I know that’s not the case here. Guys like you don’t waste your time with girls like me.”

  Jesus, what the hell was she thinking? Shaking his head a little, he tried to wrap his brain around it, but it was impossible. “Okay, there’s actually a lot about all that I could argue with, but I’m too hung up on the other thing you said. How can you think I don’t want you?” he demanded, his voice so rough he was nearly growling at her again. “That I don’t want inside you?”

  Her mouth popped open—snapped shut—and then popped open again. “I, uh, I know you don’t.”

  “I just stood here and told you you’re beautiful, right? I didn’t imagine that, did I?”

  “No,” she mumbled. “But that...that was probably just to make me feel better, because I’ve already figured out that you’re a nice guy.”

  “I’m not that nice,” he muttered, hating that freaking word as much as every other guy in the world.

  She went on like she hadn’t even heard him. “So what exactly is your deal? Because my head is going in way too many directions tonight to figure it out.”

  Biting back a guttural, explosive curse, Elliot had a good idea of what was making her so edgy. She was picking up on the primal, animalistic, damn-near-magnetic connection between them, and that intense awareness was making his restraint all the more glaring. And for a girl who clearly didn’t have as much confidence as she should, the situation was throwing up all kinds of red flags and signals, when he needed her to just let go of the fear and trust him.

  Christ, he was already screwing this up and he hadn’t even known her more than a couple of hours!

  Gripping the back of his neck, he struggled to find the right thing to say, wishing he had someone there to help him, like Mason. Then again, Mason’s way of handling the situation when he’d found his life-mate had been to trip her in the middle of a crowded café, so maybe he wasn’t the best choice for advice on women.

  You think? his wolf drawled, and Elliot could’ve sworn he heard the smart-ass animal snickering.

  Yeah, he was just going to have to stumble through this on his own, and hopefully not fuck it up so badly she ended up thinking he was an idiot.

  Bringing his hooded gaze back to hers, he willed her to believe in him with everything that he had. “You’re wrong, Skye. I want you so goddamn bad I can barely see straight. I just...can’t ask you for anything like that right now.”

  This time, she was the one who just stared, her expression full of confusion and curiosity.

  Feeling the weight of every lie he’d already told—and every secret he kept—pressing down on him, Elliot had to lean back against the counter for support. “There are things you don’t...know. Things I need to explain before I... Before we...”

  “Jesus.” Her soft voice was breathless with shock, a dazed look on her face as she finally started to believe him. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “About wanting you?” he asked in a husky rumble, catching his lower lip in his teeth. “Woman, you have no idea.”

  She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, then slowly opened them as she shook her head in a helpless, frustrated gesture. “Elliot, even if I wanted to, I can’t just leave with you. That...that would be like the ultimate play in the How to Do Something Stupid If You’re a Woman handbook. I don’t even know you.”

  “You know I’ve protected you.” He licked his lower lip again, his gaze sliding away as he said, “And that I’m a PI.”

  “I would need more than some license to make me leave with you. That thing could be fake for all I know.”

  “Shit,” he cursed under his breath, rubbing the hard line of his jaw with his palm. “We don’t have time for this.”

  “I know,” she said quietly, the look in her big eyes imploring him to understand when he finally glanced her way. “I swear I’m not trying to be a bitch, and I’m not ungrateful for what you’ve done. But...I can’t just run off with you because I’m scared. That would make me stupid. And stupid girls end up dead.”

  He paced across the floor, taking a moment to think. Though his wolf pretty much thought tossing her over his shoulder and telling her how it was going to be seemed like a sound plan, Elliot figured he needed something a bit less caveman if he wanted to win her over. He rapidly
went through about ten different scenarios, before he finally landed on one that might have a chance at working. “Okay,” he muttered, pulling his phone from his back pocket. “Just give me a few seconds. I need to make a call.”

  She nodded, her gaze filling with questions as he put the phone to his ear and waited for Monroe to answer. Three rings later, the Fed’s deep voice said, “Elliot, what’s up? You guys make it to Charity?”

  He kept his attention focused completely on Skye as he replied. “Yeah, we’re here. Where are you?”

  “FBI headquarters in DC.”

  “Great. The camera’s bigger on your laptop, so use it to contact me over Skype. Right now, if you can.”

  “You want to talk over Skype?” Monroe sounded as worried as he did confused. “What’s going on?”

  “We’ve hit a...snag. Vivian Jackson got into some trouble and ran before Max could talk to her. But I’m with Skye Hewitt at their apartment. The guys coming after them have trashed it, and I need to get her up to the safe house. But she won’t leave with me.” Since he was still looking at Skye, he caught the embarrassed wince that she tried to hide, and knew she was feeling torn about whether she was doing the right thing or not. “She, uh, thinks there’s a chance my PI license might be fake, so I need you to vouch for me.”

  “Got it,” Monroe murmured, sounding like he was already on the move. “Give me five to grab my laptop and get down to the lobby, and I’ll call you back.”

  Elliot told him thanks, and just as he ended the call, Skye asked, “Who was that?”

  “Jared Monroe. He’s the FBI agent who asked Max and me to help him out on this case.”

  “Oh.” She chewed on her lower lip for a moment, her worried gaze focused on the cheap kitchen linoleum. Then she took a quick breath, like she was reaching deep for her courage, and looked right at him. “Why does it say ‘Runners’? You know, on the message in Viv’s room?”

  He licked his lips. “That’s the, um, name of our company.”

  “Hmm.” If she thought it was a strange name, she didn’t remark on it. Instead, she shifted her attention to the phone he was still holding in his hand, waiting for it to ring. Thankfully, Monroe didn’t make them wait long, and less than a minute later Elliot was answering the Fed’s video call. As soon as the guy’s face filled the screen, Elliot held his phone out so that Skye could not only see the agent, but what was being captured in the camera shot, as well.

  Though Monroe was barely forty, he looked tired, and Elliot knew the guy’s job was taking its toll on him. That, and the bitter divorce he was currently going through. For a while, he’d thought the Fed might end up with someone in the pack, the way his sister had. Then he’d gone and married a woman who worked as an analyst for the Bureau, and from what the Runners could tell, the marriage had been a rocky one.

  “Before I say anything, I want to show you where I am.” Monroe twisted the computer around, so that Skye could see where the Fed was standing. With a twitch of his lips, Elliot realized that Monroe was showing her the main entrance of the FBI building. Armed guards manned the security checkpoint, the President’s photo hung on the wall, along with the Ten Most Wanted list, and then Monroe tilted the computer down, letting the camera pick up the official government seal that was located in the middle of the floor.

  When he brought the camera back to his face, he said, “I assure you, Miss Hewitt, I’m the real deal, and Elliot and Max are two of the best at...what they do.” A gentle smile curved his lips. “I know this is frightening, but you don’t have to do it alone. Let Elliot help you.”

  Sounding a little in awe, she said, “Thank you for taking the time to do this.”

  “We all just want to make sure you stay safe. And have Elliot put my number in your phone. If you ever need anything, you call me.”

  “I will,” she murmured, giving the guy one of her brief, but beautiful smiles. “And that’s... I, um, I really appreciate it. Thank you.”

  Monroe murmured, “Anytime,” and Elliot didn’t miss the appreciative gleam lingering in the Fed’s eyes as he shifted his attention back his way. Not that he could blame the guy, seeing as how Skye was fucking gorgeous, even when she’d been through an emotional wringer.

  “So what exactly happened with Vivian Jackson?” Monroe asked, his brow creasing with concern.

  “I’m not really sure. But I’ll have Max call you in five.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” Looking at Skye again, Monroe said, “Try not to worry. We’re going to find these people, and when we do, they’re going to be put away for a long, long time.”

  Not if I find them first, Elliot thought. No way in hell was he letting the son of a bitch responsible for this nightmare, and the ones working for him, live.

  He said goodbye to Monroe, then ended the call and slipped the phone back into his pocket.

  “I like him,” Skye murmured. “He...he seems really nice.”

  “Yeah, Monroe’s a good guy.”

  She tilted her head a bit to the side, and he had the feeling there were a million thoughts going on behind her beautiful eyes at that exact moment. “He thinks a lot of you. I mean, that was pretty obvious.”

  “We’ve, uh, been through a lot together.” Worried he might do something to spook her, Elliot was keeping his responses as neutral as possible. “I’ve known him for a long time. Since I was seventeen.”

  When she pulled that juicy lower lip through her teeth, and gave him a shy smile, his damn knees nearly buckled with relief. “I’m sorry for being such a pain, but if the offer still stands, I would... I would like to go with you.”

  Inside his head, he was running victory laps like a fucking gold medalist, fist pumping in the air. But to Skye, he simply curled his hand behind her neck, her hair like silk against his skin, and pulled her close enough he could press a quick kiss to her forehead.

  It’s about fucking time, he thought, desperate to get her out of there. “You won’t regret this. I promise,” he told her, as he took a step back.

  She gave him another brief, tentative smile. “Everything else I need is already in my purse in my car, so I’m ready when you are.”

  Grabbing her hand, Elliot pulled her along behind him as he headed for the door. “Before we go,” he murmured, sliding her a careful look, “I need you to talk to Max.”

  Her shoulders tensed, but she didn’t argue. “I know.”

  They found Max sitting in his truck with the window down, a cigarette stuck between his lips as he rested a hand on top of the steering wheel. There were dark shadows in his partner’s eyes, and Elliot knew Max was blaming himself for all the shit that had happened. He needed to talk to the guy and get the whole story, but knew better than to ask in front of Skye. He just hoped Max wasn’t being too hard on himself.

  Stepping up to the driver-side door, Skye curled her fingers over the bottom of the window frame. “Vivian drives a gray, older-model Ford Silverado, and her mom and brothers live in Ohio now. I don’t know the exact address, but the name of the apartment complex is River Shores and it’s on a road called Prospect in Dayton. Her mom’s name is Marcia Jackson. Her maternal grandmother, Cecilia Jackson, lives just a few towns over, in a place called Perryton.”

  “Thanks,” Max rasped, stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray as he reached for his phone. She gave him Vivian’s cell phone number, and Max was still typing everything Skye had just told him into his notes app, when she cleared her throat to get his attention.

  “I...I don’t know that she’d go to her family. I mean, I know how she thinks, and she’ll be worried that she might bring trouble to their doorsteps, which she wouldn’t want.”

  Max’s dark brows knitted with a frown. “If not her family, then where?”

  “I’m not sure,” Skye told him, her quiet voice husky with emotion. “She might just want to be close to her family, without putting them in danger. I know she has an old boyfriend who also lives in Dayton, so she might try to crash with him. His name’s
David Hanson and he works at Hanson’s Automotive Repair, but I don’t know his address.”

  Max nodded, and gave her a gruff “Thanks.” As she stepped back from the door, Max passed Elliot’s duffel bag to him through the window. Then he asked, “What the hell was Vivian talking about in those messages when she mentioned a robbery?”

  “I’ll tell you about it later,” Elliot muttered, at the same time Skye said, “Your friend saved my life.”

  Max looked between the two of them, then shook his head as his lips twitched. “Okay, I’m outta here. But I look forward to hearing that story.”

  “We’ll be at the safe house,” Elliot said, as Max cranked the truck’s engine. “As soon as you’ve got her, you go straight there. And whatever the hell you do, be careful. And call Monroe right now. He’s waiting to hear from you.”

  His partner jerked his chin in agreement, then reversed out of the space and drove away, the truck’s red taillights gleaming in the darkness.

  Sensing Skye’s tension as she stood beside him and watched Max drive off, he said, “Max is one of the best trackers I’ve ever known. If anyone can find her, it’s him.”

  “I hope so,” she whispered, the quiet words nearly lost in the wintry wind as it whipped around them, pulling at her long hair.

  “You did the right thing.” With his bag in one hand and her backpack on his shoulder, he steered her toward her car with his free hand against her lower back. “Giving him that information, it could be the thing that saves Vivian’s life.”

  She turned her head up to him as they walked, her green eyes glistening like jewels. “I hope you’re right about that, too.”

  “Trust me, Skye. Everything’s going to work out,” he told her, feeling like he was making a sacred vow. “There will be an end to this nightmare. I give you my word that I will do whatever it takes to make that happen.”

  And it was true—he would do anything for this woman. Anything.