by Sam Crescent
Out of nowhere, a claw sliced through the rope and a wolf’s mouth gently clamped on her arm, pulling her free. Sarah wrapped her arms around the animal and held him. She needed the contact, the love and everything he was willing to offer—even if he was a ball of goddamn fluff at the moment.
Her body ached and her heart ached more. She held him, placed her face into the curve of his neck and inhaled his delicious scent, evident even now. He smelt like fresh air and safety.
In her arms, he changed again.
“I’ve got you, honey. I’ve got you.”
He stroked her hair, and she had never felt so safe while still in danger. He touched parts of her she’d never given to anyone, and to have him here meant more to her than anything else.
“Don’t let me go, Travis. Please, don’t let me go,” she begged quietly, tears falling. Never before in all of her life had she pleaded with anyone, not even her father, and here she was begging a man who seemed to get her more than any other person. This wasn’t a weakness—this was accepting she couldn’t do this alone.
She needed Travis in her life, and waking up alone this morning had shown her how much she’d love a permanent deal with him. It scared the living hell out of her, but it was what she wanted and she wasn’t prepared to give it up anymore.
Sarah understood what her daddy had meant now. She was so pleased she’d waited and given herself to a man whom she did want to be a part of her life for good.
“I need you to be Sarah right now—the strong, stubborn one. I can’t have you break down on me.”
He was terrified, she could sense how scared he was, yet he wasn’t scared for himself but for her. She nodded and he wiped the tears from her cheeks. She had more sense than this—she wouldn’t lose it now, she couldn’t afford to, even if all she wanted to do was wrap her legs around his body and let him make it all better. She’d never run from a fight but right now she would gladly sink into the heat of him and hide. This was more than anything she’d ever faced. Now wasn’t the time to be a bubble-blowing baby or an emotional wreck of a woman. She needed the good sense her father had graced her with.
“I’m sorry. I’m here.” She moved out of his lap and tried to compose her mind. Everything seemed to be closing in on her all at once. The death of her mother and father, the troubles at the ranch, Clark and Travis…
Her mind raced with drawn-out images and she couldn’t cope.
Sarah sank her fingers into her hair, shaking as pain upon pain consumed her. She couldn’t do anything to stop it, paralysed by hurt and fear. She was crying and afraid—this wasn’t like her. What was going on?
She rocked and leaned her head against her knees, praying she wasn’t losing her mind. A sob escaped. She couldn’t control anything, not even the loudness of her cries when two men were possibly still outside ready to burst back in.
“Baby, what’s the matter?”
She heard Travis talking but he sounded so far away.
Shaking her head against the pain, she cried out to him.
“I…don’t…know… So…scared…” She couldn’t finish.
He sniffed the air around her, and she cowered away from him—it was like an infection was spreading through her body.
“You don’t smell the same. There’s something different about you,” he said.
Suddenly she didn’t like him being close. She tried to shuffle away from him then rocked back and forth.
“Daddy?” she called. He would take the bad and the hurt away. He would keep her safe, always.
“He’s given you some sort of drug to make you feel crazy.”
Sarah didn’t know what he was talking about and she didn’t care.
“Forgive me, baby,” he whispered.
Forgive him? What for? What had he done?”
He moved her hair out of the way, trapped her arms at her side and kissed her neck. Seconds later, hot burning pain unlike anything else consumed her. Travis had bitten her neck and was sucking out her blood. He wasn’t a vampire, wasn’t a wolf right now, so what the hell was he doing? Sarah tried to keep her screams contained but it did no good. Her neck was being savaged by a man-beast and she couldn’t stop him.
Before she knew what was happening, a scream released from her throat at the same time that the haze around her heart and eyes lifted. She could breathe and see clearly, the fear of moments ago banished.
She dropped to the truck bed when Travis let her go and he fell behind her, panting. She turned to him, her hand going to the bloody bite. She didn’t care about the pain. Her concern was for Travis. He lay sweating and shaking.
“Travis? What’s going on? What the fuck was that all about?”
“Ah, I see you’ve finally got him,” Clark said loudly. “Perfect result, Rodney. I never thought your plan would work, but there you go.”
Sarah turned, watching Clark and Rodney enter the barn. They looked smug and satisfied. She ignored them and touched Travis. He cowered from her touch.
“It’s me, Travis. What’s the matter?”
He stared past her shoulder, seemingly unhearing.
Heat spread from the wound at her neck and she winced. What the fuck was going on?
“What did you do to him?” She got to her feet to confront the two men who now looked at Travis with malicious intent in their eyes. Her hands shook from the loss of blood and her concern for Travis was distracting her.
“We did nothing, but it seems a little dose of experimental drugs did the trick with you.” Clark smirked as both men walked closer. Both coming on either side.
“You’re fucking sick!” Now she was pissed off, especially when Clark nodded, his gaze on Travis.
“He’s too strong as a wolf and way too strong to contain as a man. Rodney figured, after watching the way you two are together, he’d come looking for you, so he left a trail of your scent, used some of your panties. Had him travelling like the dog he is.”
Sarah knew she would burn every single item of clothing when she got home in case that creepy fucker had touched it all.
Disgusting bastards.
She knelt beside Travis and shook him.
“You need to turn, change to a wolf and you’ll be fine.” She sounded crazy saying that, but she’d think about this shifting shit later. She knew now he’d changed into a wolf to help mend the bullet wound in his foot. Whatever they’d given her, what he’d sucked out of her, could be dispersed the moment he changed, couldn’t it?
And I thought he didn’t care…
“No can do, honey.” Clark pulled her by the arm away from Travis.
She snarled, yanked her arm back, spun round and slapped Clark across the face. “Don’t call me honey. And don’t you touch me, you fucking coward,” she said, pummelling at him and striking any part of him she could.
Clark pushed her, and before Sarah could get her footing he slapped her face. The pain was quick and sharp and sent her sprawling from the truck bed onto the floor.
“I’m a coward?”
He walked to her and hauled her up by her hair. She could see Travis watching the scene and it broke her heart. He looked like he wanted to get up and do something to stop him but was too drugged up—and it was all her fault.
“Look at the man you were fucking earlier,” Clark said. “Look at him, Sarah.”
She cried out when he fisted her hair and his other hand grabbed her face and forced her to look at Travis.
“Let…her…go…” Travis managed, but it was obvious the struggle for him was tremendous.
“I like our Sarah, buddy. I’ll keep her around for a little longer.” Clark dragged her hair back and moved his hand holding her face to her breast.
He squeezed the mound, bringing tears to her eyes.
She screamed in anger again and spat at him, trying to get away. He pushed her to the floor before lifting her off the ground and handing her to Rodney.
“Keep that bitch secure.” He stared right into her face. “Don’t want you to ha
ve the same fate as Macy Jo, do we?”
Sarah jolted. “What about Macy? What the fuck have you done to her?” she yelled, fighting and cursing.
Rodney may have been a few cents short of a dollar, but he certainly made up for it in strength. She couldn’t move—she tried to lash out and kick him but failed.
“Let’s just say Macy has been taken for the greater good,” Clark drawled. “Besides, you look at me like I’m the devil. Look at your man and see who killed Macy. Whose blood is on his hands?”
Sarah looked at Travis and knew he’d never do such a thing. He was too caring and he couldn’t lash out at a woman. And as for the blood—there hadn’t been any on him before he’d bitten her neck.
“You’ll never get away with this,” she snarled. “Stephen will know the truth and he’ll find you. I’ll tell him myself.” Her heart was breaking. John—how would he cope knowing his wife was dead and gone? How could anyone kill that sweet, loving woman? And she’d been pregnant!
“You think Stephen will stop me?” Clark roared with laughter. “My God, are you that stupid? Do you really think that’s the only special medicine I’ve got? I’ve got stuff that’ll keep you docile for a good few days, honey.”
She gritted her teeth at his use of that name again. If she could get free, so help her God, she’d tear his eyes out.
Clark moved to Travis, taunting the other man with foul words. Rodney squeezed her a little tighter, showing her his strength, and she gasped at the sight of another man in the doorway.
“Clark, what am I doing here?” Stephen walked into the barn.
Sarah prayed he’d do the right thing.
“Stephen, right on time as always. I’ve got Travis here, the person who killed that hiker and Macy Jo and now he’s going to kill you.” Clark pulled out a gun and shot Stephen in the chest.
Sarah screamed, slammed her foot on Rodney’s, and he let her go, cursing. She ran to Stephen and put her hand over the bullet wound. Blood was escaping through his mouth and he was gasping.
“Oh, God, what did you do?” she yelled at Clark.
He was kneeling next to Travis, forcing him to take the gun. This was too much.
“I’m sorry,” Stephen gasped out before he took one final breath.
Sarah pulled away her blood-covered hands.
Stephen’s blood. John, if he found out about Clark, would rip the man apart, but it looked like Clark would get away with this if she wasn’t around to give evidence.
She didn’t think. She looked at Stephen’s lifeless body and saw his gun. She reached over and pretended to fix the sheriff’s shirt and sobbed to muffle her movements.
She stood and turned the gun on Clark.
Sarah had no chance of leaving this barn alive unless she did this. She wouldn’t be a slave to Clark and his disgusting cronies. The town deserved better than this piece of shit. It would end here, in this barn.
She might die anyway, but she’d take Clark with her.
Chapter Thirteen
What the hell was Sarah doing? Travis watched from his prone position, willing himself to get the hell up off the floor and step between her and Clark. His body felt like it had liquefied, though, and he was frustrated as fuck about it. His brain was functioning just fine, and if he could just get enough strength to call out, distract Clark…
But he couldn’t waste time trying—and what if he distracted Sarah instead? He didn’t need her worrying about him, not now—he needed to gather all the energy he could in order to shift. Pick the right moment to do it, too. He’d tried it several times while watching the woman he loved being manhandled by that jerk, and each time he’d failed to reach that place in his mind that enabled him to transform. His attention being on her instead was a killer, throwing his concentration off. If he could just shift, he’d be renewed, the drugs leeched out of his system from the changeover, his strength returned.
Sarah stood resolute facing Clark, gun pointing at him, and, God, he was proud of her—her hand didn’t even shake, despite Stephen being dead on the ground. He cursed himself for being so out of it, no good to her when it mattered the most—no good to the sheriff. He should have realised Clark hadn’t wandered off with Rodney and left the barn door open, should have known they were lulling him into a false sense of security, to draw him out of hiding so they could catch him. Then Stephen coming in like that… He’d looked spaced out, out of his tree on drugs—and then to be killed?
Fucking hell.
How the fuck was Travis going to deal with watching Sarah kill a man while he lay idly by? It was his job to protect her, God damn it, not the other way around. Being incapacitated burned him so badly he felt sick.
“I’ll fucking kill you if you take one step closer,” Sarah said. “You’ve fucked with me one time too many. How the hell dare you, getting your pathetic friend to bring me here, feeling me up while he was at it?”
“Felt you up, did he?” Clark grimaced and looked at Rodney. “Did you touch her, fuckface?”
Rodney blushed, clasping his hands behind his back like a recalcitrant schoolboy, and stared at the dusty floor.
“You did, didn’t you?” Clark spat a glob of phlegm on the floor. “I expressly told you not to do anything like that. She’s mine, God damn it. Bad enough freaky wolf boy there’s been in her hole before me.” He ground his teeth then sighed. “Still, sloppy seconds is better than none at all. I’ll deal with you later, Rodney. You’ve gone and pissed me the hell off, and you know what that means, right?”
“Yes, boss. Sorry, boss.”
Clark mimicked him then returned his attention to Sarah. “So, as you were saying?”
“Fuck you,” she said.
“Oh, that’ll come later, honey, don’t you worry yourself about that.”
“It won’t. You’ll never touch me again.”
“Oh yeah?” Clark smirked.
If she doesn’t kill you first, I’ll wipe that smirk right off your butt-ugly face.
“Yeah, so back the hell off!” Sarah warned.
“You won’t shoot me. Not when Rodney here can overpower you. He may look as thick as pig’s shit, but, as you’ve seen already, he’s mighty strong when he has to be.”
Shit!
Rodney was looking to Clark for guidance, but his ‘boss’ wasn’t giving him any hints, his sights set firmly on Sarah.
Clark jerked his head sideways, gaze still on Sarah, a smug smile on his face. “Go and sort that dead-as-a-doornail asshole out, dickwad. Drag him outside. Never should have been made sheriff, that one. Deputy had his head stuck up his ass when he brought Stephen on board. I told him to take me on instead, but, no, he reckoned I had a tight enough grip on the town already. And I do.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
Rodney appeared downcast, as though he’d been itching for the chance to grab Sarah and press himself against her. Damn pervert freak. If they got through this, Travis imagined Sarah would take a while to forget the feel of those men touching her. Earlier, when she’d mentioned being groped by them, he’d had to rein in his anger, had to stop himself from rushing out of the barn and attacking them.
So why didn’t you? Why the fuck didn’t you?
Because he’d wanted to stay with Sarah, to give her comfort, keep her safe.
And now look what’s happened. If you’d have just gone for them, torn out their damn throats like you’ve threatened, she wouldn’t be standing there now with a gun in her hand and some asshole goading her to shoot him.
“Well? What the fuck are you still doing here?” Clark shouted. “Go sort out the damn sheriff, you hear me?”
Rodney pursed his lips, gave Sarah a long, lingering look, shrugged and hunkered down. He tucked his hands into Stephen’s armpits and dragged the corpse outside. A trail of blood marred the floor now, and Stephen’s heels had left two slim ravines through the dust. Travis blew out a sigh of relief that the threat to Sarah had lessened, but what about Stephen? Where the hell would Rodney take him?
“So, honey.” Clark took a step backwards, his boot sole making the grit beneath it crackle. He looked down and toed the ground, acting as though bored, that taking his gaze off her really didn’t faze him. And maybe it didn’t. Maybe he was so sure of himself that he didn’t fear her in the slightest. “Take a shot, sweetness. See where you hit. See if all your bluster about having a gun in every room is worth the effort it took for you to tell everyone about them.”
Sarah stared at him, eyes narrowed, her cheeks flushing the claret of an angry woman. He knew all about her temper, how Clark’s words would have pissed her off. He imagined her mind ticking over, her thinking of where she could shoot Clark so he didn’t die—so he’d still have to live and suffer in jail with men who wouldn’t hesitate to beat the crap out of him on a daily basis for what he’d done. Killing a hiker was bad enough, but taking a mother away from two small kids? Clark wouldn’t stand a chance.
Travis smiled wryly and a burst of pride surged through him. She may be as stubborn as a damn mule, but it had got her somewhere in life—a respected ranch owner who took no shit from her workers. He’d wager she was asking herself if she could do it—if she could kill a man even though he was bad to the bone.
“You go ahead and take your time, honey. I got all day.” Clark dug a hand in his pocket and brought out a box of matches. “I’ll just go and sit right over here, and, when you’re ready, you go on and pull that trigger.”
He’s mocking her, the son of a bitch!
Clark sat on an empty wooden barrel and took a match out of the box, inserting it between his disgusting teeth. Travis expected him to strike another match and toss it towards the hay bales in the far corner, but the man put the box back in his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest. He stretched his legs out and hooked one ankle over the other, looking as if he was just passing away some spare time.
He’s got some fucking balls. But she’ll do it if she’s pushed. She’ll shoot you, motherfucker. Go on, push her. See what she’s made of.
But Clark didn’t speak, just picked at his teeth with the match, studying the end to see if his rooting around had produced anything. Sarah remained in place, finger curled around the half-cocked trigger, gaze staunch, unwavering. Her mouth twitched as if she was going to say something but nothing came out. She’d thought better of it, then.