by Renee George
Lara’s hand went to her lips as she stifled an astonished “Oh.”
Forrest’s blood boiled at his mother’s implication that Bailey wasn’t good enough. He got the feeling she’d been told that a lot in her life. He fought against his wolf who wanted to surface and defend her. “I’ve already marked her.”
“You what?” Lila sat down on the piano bench.
“I marked her. She is mine, damn it.” His words ended in a snarling growl.
“Bro, I’ve never seen you like this before,” Evan said.
Forrest shot his brother a look of warning. “Stay out of this.”
Evan put up his hands. “You got it.”
“Are you mated?” Lila asked.
“We will be.”
“So there’s still time to fix this.”
All he’d thought about since she’d ran away was how much he wanted her back, and his mother thought she could “fix this.” No. Fucking. Way. Bailey Corsac was his, even if he hadn’t permanently marked her yet. He’d made his intention clear with the bite on her shoulder. He didn’t want another woman, another mate. And the only thing that needed fixing was figuring out how to make Bailey want him as much as he wanted her.
“Father, if you want to run this pack then take it back. I’ll gladly step aside. But, if I am to be alpha,” Forrest said. “I will be alpha my way. If someone wants to challenge me, I will make them regret the day they were whelped. And that is all I will say on the subject. Good day.” And with that final declaration, Forrest stormed from the room and headed out back from some fresh air.
He’d never done well with being told what to do. In that way, he’d been born to lead. It infuriated him to have his parents treat him like a child. He’d negotiated contracts with some of the toughest, narcissist psychopaths in the business world. In other words, he could handle himself when it came to pack dynamics and rival pack politics. And if he couldn’t, then he didn’t deserve to hold the role in the first place.
“You look like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders,” a familiar voice said.
Forrest glanced over at Maxine Garson. She lounged on the porch swing, using her feet to gently rock herself back and forth. He tried to smile but feared it looked more like a grimace. “How are you, Max?”
“I asked first,” she said, a coy smile on her lips.
“Technically, you didn’t.”
“It was implied, Mr. Blackthorn.” She raised a brow. “But I guess an implied contract means nothing around here.”
The Silverbacks were property developers, and Maxine had been adept with acquisitions. He’d even hired her once or twice over the years to help find locations for Blackthorn Sporting Goods centers. And though she’d indicated her willingness, Forrest had never had sex with Maxine after his first scenting ceremony all those years ago.
The sex had been good, wild and adventurous, but when he’d tried intimacy with her outside of sex, Maxine lacked any real warmth or kindness. He knew she must have felt just as empty when it came to him. Forrest had no illusions about himself. He was cold, distant, and domineering--and that was on a good day.
Except when it came to Bailey. What was it about that little fox that chipped away at his icy heart? His wolf howled for her in a way that scared him. He was like a pup again whenever he saw her. She called to him, and his body begged to answer.
“It was nice to see you, Max.” He turned to go back inside.
Maxine jumped from the seat and went to him. She touched his arm. “We could be good together, Forrest. We could make Blackthorn so powerful no one would dare make a move against us. I can do that for you. Together we are strong.”
Forrest shook his head. “I don’t need another business partner. I need a mate.”
Her smile dimmed. “You need to grow up.”
“I’m not the one pissing on people.”
She gave him a sharp look. “You knew that was me last night?”
“I remember your wolf.”
Her eyes softened. “We could be powerful together, you and I.”
“Go home, Maxine. There’s nothing here for you.” He stared at where her hand rested on is bicep until she moved it.
Her expression hardened once again. “We’ll see about that, Forrest. I know how to get what I want, and I play for keeps.”
Forrest ignored the warning in her words. “Not this time. No hard feelings.”
Her mouth tightened, and her eyes held a sharpness, but like a smart businesswoman who’d been outmaneuvered, she held her tongue as he walked away.
****
Bailey sat at an outdoor table at the Hound’s Tooth Restaurant. The location had been Lara’s choice, the seating, Bailey’s. She wore an oversized hat and a pair of sunglasses because it was as close to crawling into the deepest hole possible without actually shirking her responsibility as Lara’s maid of honor.
She’d arrived five minutes early but decided that if Lara were even one minute late, she would skedaddle.
With prejudice.
She’d cried herself to sleep the night before, and all she wanted to do was go back home and wash her damn pillowcases. Tory had gone into work at the office to take care of a legal motion that needed to be filed and woke her up with a call around eleven a.m. Unfortunately, there had been no hiding the red-rimmed eyes when she crawled out from under the covers to get ready for lunch, hence, the sunglasses.
Bailey checked her phone. Eleven-fifty-nine. She gathered her purse and readied herself to make a break for it. Too late. Lara arrived.
When she sat down across the table from Bailey, she skipped the platitudes and went right for, “Oh my God, Bailey, what the hell happened last night?”
“Do I look that bad?” She didn’t bother to remove her hat or glasses.
“No.” Lara shook her head. “Yes. But that’s not the point. The Blackthorn house was a minefield this morning. I’ve never had to tiptoe so much in my life!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Apparently, a certain new alpha defied the old alpha by choosing a fox over a wolf during the scenting ceremony.” She leaned forward and inhaled deeply. “Cripes, I can smell him all over you.”
“I showered a dozen times,” Bailey protested. “I just can’t seem to get him off me.” It was part of the reason she’d cried. It hurt knowing she’d never have Forrest again. That he would never truly be hers.
“It’s going to take more than soap and water to get rid of the scent of a mate.”
“You’re talking gibberish now.”
“I can’t believe you. And Forrest. Wowzers, how did you manage to pull the stick out of his ass?”
Bailey gnashed her teeth. “Don’t talk about him like that.”
“Whoa.” Lara put up her hands in an “I surrender” move. “I am just repeating your words back to you.”
“Well, stop it.” She felt another self-pity party coming on. “It doesn’t matter. It was a one and done. Forrest Blackthorn is ungettable.” And unforgettable. She’d never be able to look at another man without comparing him to Forrest. Hell, she was considering a nunnery at this point.
“Does this mean you’re over Evan?” she asked with an ease of friendship.
“What?” Bailey took off her sunglasses and blinked. “I don’t…You…You knew?”
“We knew.” She grasped Bailey’s hand. “But we loved you.”
“Wow, you all must have had a really big laugh at my expense. Look at love-sick Bailey pining for a man she couldn’t get in a thousand years.”
“Are you kidding me?” Lara smirked. “I can’t tell you how many times I was jealous of you and Evan. And believe me, when you started getting curves, he noticed. I can’t tell you how much I envied you.”
“But he fell in love with you.”
“And thank heavens, because I think the powers that be were saving you for something else.”
“I don’t believe in fate.”
“Call i
t what you want. Forrest Blackthorn stood in front of his family this morning and informally declared his intention to mate with you.”
“You’re high.”
As if on cue, a waitress brought out two mimosas and set them on the table. Lara held up her glass. “Not yet, but if I play my cards right...”
Bailey laughed, but it came out like a nervous hyena. “Did he really say he wanted me as his mate?”
“Uhm, let me see if I can get this right.” Lara straightened her shoulder, tucked her chin, and lowered her voice to mimic Forrest’s. “I marked her. She is mine, damn it.” She nodded at Bailey. “Exact words. Honest to goodness.” She traced an X on the left side of her chest. “Cross my heart.”
Mark her? She’d stared at herself in the mirror when she got home and other than a little redness on her shoulder, Forrest hadn’t left any mark on her. “He didn’t though. He didn’t mark me.”
“Come on, Bailey. Don’t be dense. He marked you with his scent. The first step in showing his intent to mate.”
“Ahhh. And that’s why I couldn’t wash him off.”
“Yes!” Lara snapped her fingers. “Now we’re cooking. And man, Forrest Blackthorn is pungent. Even more than when Evan marked me. He must have been really, really, reee-eally turned on.” She wiggled her brows. “You drive the boys wild.”
“Stop it,” Bailey said, but couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips. “By the way, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For cutting you out of my life after graduation. I didn’t understand how…strong the pull was when you found, er, the right person.”
“You can say it.” Lara giggled. “When you find your mate. And yes, it’s hell to resist.”
Bailey shook her head. “This is ridiculous. He’s the new alpha of the pack. I’m no one. I don’t have any affiliation. Is he nuts?”
“Those were all the points his parents touched on as well.” She took another sip of her drink. “Let me just say…Forrest did not give one shit about their fears. He’s certain he’s alpha enough to take on whatever happens, even without a marriage-alliance with another pack.”
“He’s got a big set of balls.”
Lara’s eyes widened, and she leaned forward. “Now we’re getting to the good stuff. Do tell me all about his balls.”
“Lara!” Bailey snorted her drink right out her nose. “Ow. And yuck.”
“Gosh, Bailey. I’ve missed you so much.”
Bailey smiled, feeling just a hint of bitter sadness. Her jealousy had driven her from the two people who’d always had her back. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’m sorry I disappeared on you.”
“You’re back now. And if Forrest Blackthorn has his way, you won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”
“My weird and whacky not-really-a-love-life aside, we should be concentrating on you. Tomorrow is the wedding. Are you ready?”
“Hell yes,” Lara sighed. “I’ve been ready my whole life to be Evan’s bride.”
“I get it.” Bailey couldn’t believe all the time she’d wasted pining for Evan. She couldn’t have loved him, not truly, if she could forget about him with one look at his brother Forrest. So why had she built such a fantasy in her mind? It had prevented her from creating any real relationships with other men.
Fate? Maybe Lara was right, and she needed to carry a torch for one brother so she could be free when the other one arrived in her life. Was she being a fantasist again? Even if Forrest was serious about wanting to mate with her, could he really hold his alpha position if choosing her meant constant challenges against his authority?
She was a lawyer. She understood the difference between a sympathetic jury and hostile one. If she gave herself to Forrest, they would have the odds stacked against them from the get-go.
Bailey had some serious thinking to do between now and Lara’s wedding. Forrest didn’t seem like the kind of man who would take no for an answer, and she had to decide if she cared enough, maybe even loved him enough, if love this soon was possible, to let him go.
Lara also insisted on paying the lunch tab, so Bailey waited for her outside while she handled the check. She hoped the fresh air would clear her head, but all it did was increase her awareness of Forrest’s scent. Damn that man. Damn his piercing eyes, his chiseled jawline, his wide kissable lips. Damn his wide sexy shoulders and his eight-pack abs. Damn his…she thought of his rock hard cock and the way it felt to have him inside her. Her stomach fluttered as she swore, “Damn him.”
Her preoccupation with all things Forrest blinded her to the van that pulled up next to the curb, and to the two men who jumped out of the cargo door, snatched her from the sidewalk and yanked her inside.
Chapter Eight
Forrest paced in his bedroom,--the only solace he could find in this God forsaken mansion. He didn’t care what his mother or father thought. The only person whose opinion mattered was Bailey’s. She would be at the wedding tomorrow, that much was a given. Even if she wanted to avoid Forrest, she wouldn’t let her friend down.
Yes, he would take her aside after the ceremony was over and he would say and do whatever was necessary to win her heart. Bailey Corsac would be his mate, even if he had to give up everything to make it happen.
His phone rang. Lara Hout? Why was she calling him? He considered ignoring the call, but his soon to be sister-in-law was also one of Bailey’s best friends. She might have some information he could turn to his favor.
He put the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“Forrest!” Lara shouted, her breath quick and frantic. “Oh my God, Forrest.”
The alarm in her voice raised the hairs on the back of his neck. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to Evan?”
“Bailey,” she said and choked back a sob. “She’s been taken.”
“I don’t understand.” His mind raced to make sense out of the nonsense coming from Lara. “Who took her?”
“I don’t know! I was paying for lunch, and a van pulled up. Two guys grabbed her off the sidewalk. They took off before I could get outside.”
“Why?”
“How would I know?” The rise in her voice told him she was on the verge of panic.
His own heart was pounding his chest. He took a deep breath. Losing his shit now wouldn’t help Bailey. “Where are you?”
“I’m in town at the Hound’s Tooth Restaurant, just two blocks from the Wolfe’s Den in Blue Creek.”
“I know where that’s at. Call my brothers and let them know what’s going on.”
“I called Evan first. He’s on his way here.”
It irritated Forrest that she’d wasted precious minutes calling Evan. Minutes that would have put him that much closer to tracking Bailey’s kidnappers.
He fought to hold his temper. “I’ll be right there.”
****
Bailey felt like she’d been playing Road Trip, a game she’d played with Lara when they were teenagers. Each intersection they would flip a coin to determine if they would go right or left. The game had been an adventure every time, never knowing where they would end up by evening.
This wasn’t quite the same adventure. The men who’d snatched her smelled like wolf, but they wore ski masks, so she had no idea who they were. There were three of them two in the windowless back with her and the driver up front. There was a wire mesh door between them, and she couldn’t see anything but sky and some of the taller buildings.
“What do you want with me?”
“Shut up,” one of the men said. They were about the same build as most wolf shifters, broad-shouldered and tall. The guy who’d told her to shut up had brown eyes.
Could it be the creepo from the rehearsal dinner? Bailey shook her head. Maybe. Maybe not. Lots of people had brown eyes. If she asked him if he was Dale Comfry, she’d probably get a kick to the face.
The van made a sharp right, throwing her into the metal wall. She cried out as an exposed seam cut into her arm. Brown Eyes slammed her to
the floor of the van and put a knee on her back. With her hands and feet bound, she couldn’t brace herself up, and it was hard to breathe. The van stopped suddenly. They couldn’t have been driving more than five or ten minutes. Was this it? Was this where they planned to kill her?
The cargo door opened. Without a word, the man yanked her up by her shirt and dragged Bailey out of the van and into the back of a building. She screamed, and he brought his other hand around, smacking her face. Pain blossomed across her cheek and mouth. “Shut the fuck up. I won’t tell you again.”
Once inside, the men in masks grabbed her by the arms and hauled through a dusty storage area. Cobwebs laced across empty racks, and mouse urine and droppings scented the air. The thugs hauled her through an open door and into a hallway with open ceiling tiles and exposed wiring. Peeling paint, graffiti marks, and holes decorated the walls.
Bailey tried to concentrate on shifting, but the two men holding her sensed her intention and wrenched her shoulders back and up. She cried out, the pain making transformation impossible.
“Try to turn here, little fox, and I’ll be wearing your tail as a souvenir.”
At the end of the hall, they took her through double doors into a kitchen of some kind. Large, too big for a regular restaurant. Greasy smudges across the smooth, stainless steel work surfaces smelled like old blood. The sinks were filled with soiled rags and refuse. The sour scent of mold and rot made her gag. Was this some kind of torture chamber? A kill room?
One of them let her go and opened a walk-in freezer door, while the other shoved her past some crates and tossed her in like a rag doll. She landed on someone sitting up against the back wall.
“Oh God,” the guy said. “It’s you.”
“You.” Bailey scrambled off him. His face was swollen. His left eye looked like someone had sewn a ripe plum over the top and his bottom lip was split wide. Blood had dried to his cheek, chin, and neck. But she recognized the pale blond hair. It was Dale Comfry. Not one of the kidnappers. Just another victim. “You look terrible. Are you okay?”
“How did you…?”
“Find you?” She shook her head and rubbed her arms to ward off the shivering cold of the small room. “I was kidnapped. I have no idea what going on.”