by Sam Crescent
Rodney’s face took on a dreamy look. “Fine piece of ass Macy was, too.”
“Yeah.” Clark stared into the distance, fiddling with his fly. “She fitted around my cock just right, tasted well and good last night, too. Shame she had to go really—I wouldn’t have minded a revisit. I love a woman who struggles. Made out she didn’t want my dick, but she wanted it all right. They all do.”
Travis bared his teeth. Clark clearly had no remorse for taking a mother away from her children, a wife from her husband, a good woman and friend from a community. All she was to him was a means to an end, someone to be discarded once she’d served her purpose. What a waste of a life.
“You hate Travis that much?” Rodney sounded genuinely confused.
You and me both, asshole.
“Yeah, bastard has the woman I want, the job I want. You know why it was so easy for you to take her this morning, don’t you?”
Rodney shook his head. “Nope. I just reckoned the men were out buying horses—she’d been saying she was gonna get some more.”
“She does the buying herself, doesn’t trust the likes of us. No, she fired the damn lot of them. Came right out and told them all that Travis had fucked her and left her, then told them to leave. Big buzz about it in town. But then you won’t have heard about it, being with Sarah and all. Being as dim as you are. I tell you, God helps those who help themselves, and he knew I was about to help myself to her tasty little cunt, so he made the way a bit easier.” Clark laughed, and it sounded broken, raspy and phlegm-filled.
He hawked and spat—the man’s infuriating habit churning Travis’ gut. The mucus landed on the grass beside Clark’s boot.
Travis panted, short, quick breaths. He was getting angrier by the goddamn second. He wanted to run, to get Sarah from wherever the hell she was, and then sort Clark out once and for all.
“So,” Clark said, more sombre now. “We have a slight change of plan. Travis has gone. Might have fucked off out of town or might stay around to cause us a bit of shit. Either way, we need to get back to that bitch. She’s got some cock to suck, farcults or no farcults. Jesus, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”
“Can I watch this time, boss?”
“No, you fucking can’t!”
Rodney sighed. “Well, then. Let’s just check a bit further along first. It was dark when I clocked him one. I might have got the location wrong.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
Their boots moved, went out of sight. Travis counted to thirty before slinking out of the bushes and running full tilt the way Clark and Rodney had come. Their scent still lingered, and, despite him feeling a little groggy from the after effects of whatever the hell they’d given him, he reckoned he’d be able to pick their smell up until it led him to where Sarah was.
Anger fuelled his speed. What right did they have to take her like that? And did Clark have plans to dispose of her the same way he had with Macy Jo once he’d finished with her?
Fucking asshole.
Their scent faded a little but was definitely still there, a faint wisp of their usual aromas spiced with whatever they’d bathed with. He lost track for a second and stopped abruptly, lifting his nose to the sky. There—straight ahead. Travis ran again, heading for his own home.
What the hell? They’ve damn well taken her to my place so there’s no disputing it’s me who took her?
He didn’t question his instincts, just kept going, the men’s scents fading more now, overridden by Sarah’s—and the unmistakeable tang of fear. Hers or his own, he didn’t know. He leapt over the fence separating Sarah’s land from that which his cottage stood on and pounded towards the small dwelling. He smelt her around him and came to a halt, eyeing his surroundings then his home. There were no signs of a break-in—his dark oak front door was closed tight, his white sash window frames unmarred by a tyre iron or whatever the fuck people broke in with these days. He padded around back—no evidence of foul play there, either.
Confused, he cocked his head and listened hard, staring at the large barn that housed his truck.
The barn!
He ran then, right for it at immense speed, and reached the double, slatted wood doors in record time. They were locked—a shiny new chain had been wound around the crescent-shaped silver handles and a polished brass padlock held it in place. He pressed his nose to a slight gap between two slats and breathed deep. Sarah’s scent filled his nose, strong, so heavenly, and it was her fear he’d detected. He scooted around so he could peer through the slats with one eye, conscious that Clark and Rodney might be back all too soon, although he’d bet they’d be a while as neither of them could run like a damn wolf. Still, he’d better be cautious. Who knew if they had some other sick bastard in on their plan?
With that thought, he sniffed again. No, he only scented Sarah and the faint residue of Rodney.
The barn was dark inside, only shadowy shapes visible, no vibrant red truck or his shiny tools or work bench in perfect sight. His gaze darted from shape to shape, and he noted nothing out of the ordinary. Yet Sarah was inside, he’d bet his life on it. He reared back and made his way to the window. It was dusty, but maybe he’d get a better view there. Up on his hind legs, front paws resting on the rough, splinter-infested ledge, he stared through. Nope, no better view at all.
Fuck!
He circled the barn, spotting a loose slat around back, slanted in a drunken way. Pushing against it with his rump, he was pleased to hear it snap from his weight, giving him enough room to squeeze inside. He blinked to become accustomed to the change in light, and after a few seconds made out his truck radiator in front of him, the headlights staring out as though they belonged to a monster who watched him with dulled eyes.
He opened his mouth to call her name, forgetting for a second that he was a wolf, cursing himself for not shifting when he’d got here so he could have gone into his cottage as a man to get something he could smack the barn door with. He’d been too intent on getting inside—getting to Sarah.
A whimper left his mouth in place of her name, and Sarah answered with one of her own. He homed in on where her voice had come from and walked down the side of his truck, nose to the air, ears tuned for the slightest of sounds.
One came, a whisper of movement from the flatbed of his truck, and then another muffled whimper. The son of a bitch had tied her up in there? Quickly, he jumped into the back, landing as close to the tailgate as he could. He strained his eyes in the darkness, his sight no more use than it was when he was in human form—damn those drugs—but he saw her shape. She was huddled with her back against the cab, and he could just make out her bent legs and the coils of rope around her middle, pinning her arms to her sides.
Oh, my beautiful Sarah. What has he done to you?
He lunged forward, intent on being close to her, comforting her.
She screamed—screamed loud and long, the sound ear-splitting. He howled with her, nudging her face with his muzzle. She wriggled to get away, her scream inaudible now, even though her mouth was stretched wide, a black hole in the gloom.
It’s all right, I’m here now.
She bucked, jerked, unfurled her legs and kicked out. Her foot caught his hind paws, and he lost his balance, smacking on to the truck bed and landing on his left flank. He scrabbled to stand, to go to her again, watching her as that black hole in her face disappeared and her teeth, a faint row of light grey, took its place.
“Get. The fuck. Away from me,” she said, voice stern but with a slight tremor. “I’ve been taken out of my goddamn house, tied up, touched up, and now I’m meant to cope with a fucking wolf? Jesus Christ, God, give me a fucking break, will you?”
Travis swallowed, took a few steps backward. There was nothing for it but to reveal to her who he really was. If he had any chance of saving her, he’d have to do it as a man. They had little time to play with, and once he had her safely in his cottage he could get some clothes on and call the deputy so she could report her abduction.
He took a deep breath through his nostrils and closed his eyes. As he shifted, he thought, Please don’t let her freak. Please let her understand. Let her still want me.
As his paws became hands and feet, the grit from the flatbed digging into his skin, his knees, he swallowed again and opened his eyes. Sarah stared back at him, and he didn’t need light to know she looked at him with horror. Jesus Christ, he’d had no choice but to shift. She needed getting out of here. Whatever she felt for him now didn’t matter, so long as she was safe.
But it did matter, and he’d lick his wounds later, when all this shit was cleared up and life had returned to normal.
“Travis?” she whispered. “Travis?”
“Yes, honey, it’s me.”
In true Sarah French form, and despite her always seeing things in black and white, with no room for even considering the fact that shifters existed, she shouted, “Where the fuck have you been?”
Chapter Twelve
Sarah couldn’t believe what had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours. She’d lost her virginity, fallen in love, been abandoned then kidnapped from her own home. Been touched in places by hands she never wanted to remember. Then a wolf—a very pretty grey wolf but a wolf nonetheless—had been sniffing around her, and a naked Travis had appeared. Travis Williams, the man who’d taken her body and stolen her heart, was a goddamn wolf?
Don’t digress, Sarah, think, think.
Travis Williams was a fucking wolf! She’d slept with a wolf—no, not a wolf but a man who could turn into one. What would have happened if she hadn’t been on the pill and had got pregnant? Would she have given birth to a litter of baby wolves?
Okay, what the hell am I thinking?
In order to get out of this mess she’d need all of her brain cells concentrating on getting her away from here.
“I said, where the fuck have you been?” Out of everything she could have asked and said, she’d decided to shout that at him. Typical, you’ll be lucky if the guy sticks around now he’s back.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
Did she fucking look all right? This day was getting crazier by the minute. She wanted to get the hell away from here, shoot Rodney through his thick head and cut off Clark’s balls and feed them to him. How dare they take her from her own house! Lying, conniving bastards.
“I need you to be quiet and stop moving,” Travis said.
What?
“I’m still tied, Travis. Do you seriously think I can make any more noise or move much beyond this crappy little space?”
“You’re yelling, sweetheart, and they may come back.”
Sarah could tell he was nervous, but what was he nervous about? Clark and Rodney were as thick as two barn doors. There was no way those two could do any serious damage, was there?
“Stop fretting,” she snapped. “My God, Clark and Rodney have probably gone to Macy Jo’s for an early drink and forgot about me. Now just get the knot, please. I can’t feel parts of my body and I seriously need to pee.”
He found the knot and started to undo it but stopped suddenly and looked at her. Despite the gloom, she could see the concern on his face.
“Shh! Someone’s coming. I have to hide. But you’ll be okay, I’ll see to that. Trust me.”
He jumped off the truck bed and went out of sight.
“Travis?” she whispered.
Seconds later, after a jangling of chains, Clark walked into the barn. Whose barn was she in anyway?
“Ah, my sleeping beauty is awake.”
Shit, maybe she should have faked sleeping?
“What game are you playing, Clark? This one is not funny.” Sarah kept her attention on him. She didn’t want to alert him to Travis. Even if the guy could turn into a wolf, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.
“I’m not playing at nothing much—yet. I’m just looking for Travis. Have you seen him?”
He came closer, climbed into the truck bed, and Sarah resisted the urge to shuffle back closer to the cab. The creep had some body odour issues along with his rank aftershave and she wasn’t in the mood to play nice. He had her tied up and wasn’t doing a thing about letting her go.
That pissed her off.
“Why would I have seen Travis? I slept with him last night, but this morning he was gone. What more do you want me to say?”
He smiled, showing all of his teeth, some of them rotting. He should be in a lot of pain. Why was she thinking about his teeth? She must be in some sort of shock. Why else would her mind keep moving from the fact that she was tied up in a barn and in serious danger?
“Do me a favour and untie this rope,” she ordered, hoping her bossy attitude would do the trick. “I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing, but I want to go home.” And have a long steaming bath and scrub every part of me with soap.
He reached his hand out, but instead of going for the rope he ran his fingers through her hair. He was touching her hair!
Don’t move, don’t flinch…
His stench reached her and she gagged, pulling away.
She started to feel scared when he laughed at her reaction. This guy was one sick puppy.
“Who was on the phone this morning?” he asked, sitting on his haunches.
“What?”
“You heard. Who called you this morning?”
Lie!
“I think it was some crank call. Why would you want to know?” She looked past him to see Rodney enter the barn, his silhouette creepy from the daylight behind him.
“I can’t find him anywhere, boss.”
Now she was in trouble.
“Typical limey bastard,” Clark said. “Probably turned into a wolf and ran for his life.”
Clark dug in his pocket and took something out. He reached a hand towards her, and a stabbing pain shot into her arm.
“What the fuck?” she yelled.
“Just a little something,” Clark said. “In a while you’ll feel more inclined to suck my cock.”
She shuddered at the thought of it and pushed the images away. He got up and climbed out of the truck, giving Sarah time to have a quick look around, the sore spot on her arm aching. What the hell had he injected her with?
“What do you want me to do?” Rodney asked.
So Clark was the one really in charge—why did that not surprise her?
“Well, you could stand there and pretend to look pretty, dickwad.” A pause. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dukes! We continue on with the plan. Travis needs to be here and I want him. Find some way of tracking the bastard…”
They moved out of the barn and within seconds Travis appeared beside the truck.
“I’m so sorry I got you into this mess,” he whispered, eyeing the barn doorway. “Close your eyes, honey.”
Sarah just stared at him. This was way more than she could have ever imagined. This was not some kid game. This was serious.
“Tell me what’s going on,” she whispered, refusing to close her eyes.
“I need to get you out of here.”
“I don’t care about that right now. Just tell me what is going on. I need to know, deserve to know why you weren’t there when I woke up this morning. I gave you everything, Travis, and you lied to me about the wolf thing. Tell me what the fuck is going on and what I’ve done to be involved.” Sarah was at the end of her tether. She was fed up and angry and now that she’d accepted something bad was going on—knowing it in her gut as well as seeing it with her own eyes—Travis was going to tell her, give her some fucking answers.
She’d been tied up for the last few hours, why not a little longer?
“Now isn’t the time, honey…”
“Just spit it out!”
“I’m a wolf—”
“No shit, Sherlock. I want answers to everything else—I got the wolf thing when you turned. Now stop treating me like delicate china and tell me what’s going on.” The tears were close. She was starting to understand some of the s
hit she was in and she didn’t like it. Her heart was racing, her mind running faster than before. She only had half the answers to the problem and she couldn’t put the pieces together unless someone told her the whole truth. Why couldn’t she just be on her ranch sipping coffee and eating her boiled eggs and soldiers? She was hungry and cranky.
“Who was on the phone this morning?” he asked, still looking at the doorway.
“You as well? For God’s sake, why is it so important?”
“Why do you insist on blocking me when I’m trying to help? Why do you need to know answers now—answers that can wait until later? I’m telling you, this isn’t a game—”
“I realise that but—”
“But nothing! Please, baby, just tell me.”
“It was John Baines, all right? Macy didn’t make it home last night and he thought she might have come to my place to apologise.” Why was it such a big deal?
“Well, at least we know he isn’t in on it with Clark and Rodney.”
“In on what? Macy going missing? John adores Macy and always has. He’d ruin anyone who hurt her. What the hell is going on? Why is everyone talking in riddles?” The rope hurt—it was too tight—and now all the questions. She needed to get out. It was too much. She couldn’t breathe.
“Get me out of this rope,” she begged, moving her arms and trying to stretch them out. “I need out.”
She was used to the space of her ranch, to riding her horses and being free. She wasn’t supposed to be tied down.
Everything was happening too fast, and not being in control had started to freak her the fuck out. When she’d been asking Travis questions, she’d felt better, but now, with him knowing more of the puzzle than she did, she was out of her depth. For the first time, she realised she had to see things in shades of grey—just like the many hues in Travis’ wolf coat…
“Calm down, Sarah, calm down.” He looked to the side through the doorway again, keeping an eye out for those two bastards, trying to keep her safe, but she no longer cared. She had to be free.
She tried to get calm, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths. It wasn’t working. She had to be free—and now! She opened her eyes. Travis was gone.