Pageant gripped her key until the jagged edges cut into her flesh. She swung her gaze from one side of the parking lot to the other. She kept her forty-five in front of her, expecting another jolting turn of events.
In the distance, the undeniable sound of motorcycles filled the air as a near nasal-like racket came closer and closer. Pageant shook off her fear, tucked her car key in her front pocket, and dropped her arm to her side.
Hurriedly, she made her way to the Sheriff’s office and was stunned to find the door ajar. Lifting her weapon again, she cautiously entered. She kicked aside an overturned wastebasket and stepped over a few lidded cardboard boxes. “Bart? Blaine? Is anyone here?”
She went to the light switch and jiggled it up and down to no avail. Hearing a low moan, she whipped around to search for the source behind the noise.
Pageant gasped in surprise when she nearly tripped over a body. Bart held his neck with both hands and collapsed to his knees. Before she could hold him steady, he fell face forward. His arms dropped like limp rags. Blood spurted free from both sides of his neck. The young deputy’s life drained from his body, leaving him with a deadly existence, barely breathing and facing his demise so quickly, no one could possibly save him.
* * * *
Randon’s ragged breaths pounded in his ears. Keeping his head low, he darted through the trees and followed the hazy mist. One minute the fog was so thick he could barely see in front of him. The next minute, a ray of light would brighten the path. Several times the increased visibility kept him from crashing into trees.
There wasn’t time to second-guess his gut. The creature toying with him wasn’t a he or a she. The extortionist was an entity, an it.
Randon thought he might have been gaining ground and catching up, but soon found himself swept into a blind field of confusion. His sixth sense momentarily deteriorated and left him profoundly confused. Several times, he lost his overall sense of direction and that alone should’ve alarmed him.
Still, he pressed forward, determined to find out what he could, perhaps take advantage of an opportunity that wouldn’t come along again. Besides, he had to weigh the pros and cons. On a positive note, the extortionist was leading him into the heart of the woods. As a werewolf, Randon would fight on familiar ground, a wolf-shifter’s turf.
Howling commenced at his back. His Bold and Free brothers had arrived in Pleasant. Some had already taken their wolf form and Kurt wasn’t far behind him. His senses were razor sharp as he focused on the heavy breathing behind him, the way the leaves crunched and twigs snapped as the wolves traveled over the natural terrain.
The extortionist wouldn’t stand a chance. His brothers would have him surrounded before it could plan for an escape.
Randon kept chasing the shadows, running faster and faster as the gnarling and howling lessened, suggesting more distance existed between himself and his pack.
He kept his nose down and didn’t pause to bark or howl in return, even when Kurt’s yowling turned into a chorus of synchronized warnings.
They had this! They possessed a chance like never before. The extortionist had led Randon into the forest, a werewolf’s preferred battleground. The only question was why. Why would this powerful being want to confront a challenge where his opponent would feel most at home? Why there?
A plausible explanation entered Randon’s mind.
The extortionist wanted to lead Randon away from town. If he’d gone to these extremes, set up the perfect scenario by using Pageant to lead him into the forest, it was fair to assume that the extortionist had been in control of the situation from the start.
Randon had played right into a lunatic’s hands. The stage was set.
He, too, was apparently comfortable in the woodland. Randon had failed to pay attention to significant clues.
The extortionist knew the MC. He understood what to expect. He recognized how they functioned as individuals and as a pack. There was only one logical explanation.
The extortionist was one of them.
With that knowledge, Randon had no choice but to turn back. Sooner or later, they’d meet again.
Chapter Five
Sheriff McKinney entered the ER waiting room about the same time as Randon and Kurt arrived. “Mr. Shane. Fancy meeting you here. You’re either behind the trouble in this town or you’re trying to get in front of it. If it’s the latter, I hope you don’t dally long. My deputy is hanging on by a thread. The few officers and detectives we have left in this town are frightened. Some have handed in their resignations.”
Randon braced for a knowing look from his sidekick but asked anyway. “Which detectives? Was anyone else hurt?”
After he’d exited the woods, Randon had met up with Kurt and the others. They’d informed him of the jail incident. Kurt had then assured him that Pageant had made it out okay, but there was still this unsettling necessity to verify her safety and well- being.
Kurt grunted. “Obvious, much?”
Sheriff McKinney frowned. “Tell me you aren’t sweet on Detective Keen.”
“Sweet on?” Randon was puzzled. “Is that the same as being someone’s ma—”
“Well if you’re not the rudest somebody I’ve ever known.” Kurt gave Randon a solid wallop between his shoulder blades in an effort to shut him up. “You’re the sheriff, I presume.”
“Badge should stand as proof.” Sheriff McKinney shook Kurt’s hand.
“Sheriff, this is my buddy Kurt Dandridge,” Randon said. “He just arrived in town a few hours ago.”
“I suppose you’re staying at Pleasant Motor Lodge, too?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it that, but if you say so then—”
“You’re in Pleasant, North Carolina, son,” Sheriff McKinney grated out, narrowing his gaze on Kurt before he turned to Randon. “Any particular reason you called in your buddies?”
“I take it you saw them roll into town?”
“I don’t miss much around here,” Sheriff McKinney said.
“Which is why our guy chose your town?” Kurt was a natural smartass. He couldn’t help it and Randon didn’t try to fix his character flaws. There was no cure for a hardass or a jackass and pretty much everyone who rode with the Bold and Free MC was labeled as one or the other, and sometimes both.
“Are you trying to imply this is somehow my fault?”
“If at first you don’t succeed, try again.” Kurt nudged Randon before he directed his full attention to the sheriff. “I’m a straightforward guy, Sheriff McKinney. Prior to making the trek from Atlanta tonight, I did a little homework. You’ve been the sheriff here for twenty years because no one has run against you. Best I can tell, you’re a law-abiding, peace-loving man, likeable.”
“More than I can say for your gang’s reputation.”
Kurt’s lips twitched. “Been doing your homework, Sheriff?”
“It’s my job to know who’s in my town.”
“Funny. I don’t recall seeing your name on the population sign when I rolled across the Pleasant line.”
“Listen, boy, and you pay attention. This here is my town.” He jabbed his index finger at the floor. “If you and your friends are here for the right reasons and can shed some light on what happened to Pleasant’s citizens, then you can bend my ear. Otherwise, move the hell out of my way. My deputy is twenty-six years old. He has a wife and four kids at home. He’s also a friend.” He released a raspy grunt as if he had to take a minute and gather his thoughts. “Some bastard took a chunk out of Bart’s neck tonight. When he couldn’t get him to bleed, he bit the other side and damn near killed him.” The sheriff pushed by them then. “If you can help with that, then by all means, come find me.”
Sheriff McKinney had almost made it through the doors at the end of the hallway, when Randon asked, “How did you know that?”
Sheriff McKinney turned around. “How did I know what?”
“About your deputy’s neck. How did you know he didn’t bleed?”
“We h
ad surveillance, of course.” He shook his head vehemently. “Where are you boys from anyhow?”
Randon shot Kurt a sideways glance. “Go outside and call the others. Tell them to meet you at Sheriff McKinney’s office.”
“Sheriff, would you mind to go with Kurt and show him the footage you have?”
“What about you? What are you planning to do?” the sheriff asked.
Kurt groaned. He probably had his reasonable suspicions.
“I need to see Detective Keen.”
“That’s not all you need to do with Detective Keen,” Kurt said, keeping his voice low. “If she’s the one, Randon, you probably need to get a little matter out of the way as soon as possible.”
“Are you crazy?” Randon snapped.
“I’m looking out for you—and her. Mating with her is the only way you’ll keep her safe.”
Chapter Six
“Were the two of you close?”
Pageant jerked and lifted her head. Woozy at first, she tried to gain her bearings. Shaking off sleep, she glanced over her shoulder and acknowledged the man standing there. “I thought I was dreaming until I saw you. Apparently I’m in the throes of a nightmare wrought with humiliation.”
“I’ve been looking for you,” Randon said.
“I’ve been kind of busy these last few hours. After you and I parted ways, someone followed me to my car.” She searched his eyes, hoping to see some level of humanity there, something to indicate he was sorry he hadn’t walked her back to the station and protected her from the big bad wolf, literally. Coming up empty-handed, she continued, “There was this strange phenomenon, a sensation that enveloped me, seemingly consumed me before—”
“Wait a minute. What kind of phenomenon?” Concern marred his brow. He inched closer.
Her jaw tightened. She had just started to answer him when her pride jumped in front of her, waving its darned attitude everywhere. “Well it sure wasn’t a handsome fella draped in leather and sex appeal if that’s what you’re hoping I’ll tell you.”
“Is sex all you ever think about?”
“Humph. Don’t flatter yourself.” Although she could somewhat understand where he might think as much. At this point, she only had one option. She could redeem herself by telling him what happened and then she could back the hell off. The guy clearly wasn’t interested in a brassy, forward woman.
“Look, somewhere between you skipping the onion rings you ordered and my accusation that you wanted to fuck me, we were getting along pretty well—”
“I thought so.”
He held up his hand. “Let me finish.” He rubbed his unshaven jaw, acting as if he were in deep thought. Then, he thumbed the air behind him. “They have a little snack bar near the lobby. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“Sure. Why not?” She plucked her purse from the floor. “You kind of owe me.” She leaned down and kissed Bart’s cheek before she faced Randon again. “I forgive, big guy. I don’t forget.”
He held out his arm in a gentlemen’s gesture, waiting for her to leave the room first. As she walked in front of him, she could’ve sworn she heard a guttural moan, so masculine and sexy her knees nearly buckled.
She blew out a hard breath and worked her hips into an enticing sway just for a few kicks. For a split second, she wondered if he was paying attention to her ass. She didn’t wonder for longer than a moment. As soon as they left the ICU ward and passed the taped-off section housing the future home of the children’s wing, Randon made one hell of a bold play.
He grabbed her arm, swung her around one of the flimsy metal signs and pushed her into a hospital room still under construction. He immediately slammed the door behind them and used his body to barricade her against the wall.
Her heart pounded. Her nipples throbbed. Her gut clenched. The mix of lust and danger collided like a tropical storm meeting a ray of sunshine. Randon Shane represented that colorful rainbow, full of promise, bursting with hope. At the same time, he was a dark symbol of unprecedented strength, a fact that should’ve alarmed her given the fact they were all alone. “And here I thought you weren’t interested.”
“My level of interest is what should concern you.” He lowered his lips to hers and delivered a heart-stopping kiss, the kind that not only fueled desires, but independently stroked each one.
The first kiss left her pussy damp. The second made her nipples spike. The third and fourth left her grinding and groping and if there had been a fifth, let alone sixth, she would’ve stripped bare and begged for a fuck.
Fortunately, both their phones buzzed at just the right time.
She went for hers. He went for his.
They each took a minute and read the messages sent. Then, their eyes met again.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said.
“You couldn’t possibly know what I’m thinking.”
“You want to—”
“That’s an understatement.”
She laughed. “You didn’t let me finish.”
He cupped her face and slid his fingers into her hair, pulling the strands, tugging at them without regard to her pain, or maybe it was pleasure. He yanked her head back and stared at her as if he were longing for her as much as she longed for him.
“I don’t need to hear the rest of it.” He stared at her lips as if he planned to devour them again and while she wanted that kiss, perhaps even needed another brief connection, she also needed to go home and sleep.
She was a woman who knew what she wanted and didn’t care to go after it, but at the same time, casual sex didn’t have a place in her life. It complicated the hell out of a job and with the recent mass murders, she couldn’t fuck up. People were counting on her. Families were broken, ripped apart by a deadly force that needed to be stopped. This man, while pitching his willingness to help, was also a suspect.
“I should probably text my boss.”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
“You have a boss?” She was a little shocked.
“Even vigilantes answer to someone.”
“You’re part of some sort of government agency. Aren’t you?”
He dropped his hand to her waist and guided her to the door. “Come on. Let me give you a ride.”
“So now you offer to see me home?” She made a mental note to press for answers since he’d deliberately dodged her question.
“My offer was a loaded one, Detective.” He shot her a wink. “Please try to pay attention. I asked if you wanted a ride, but I didn’t specify who or what would carry you to your final destination or the pleasures you’d enjoy before we arrive there.”
Chapter Seven
“Whatever you do, don’t leave her alone.” Kurt met him outside the sheriff’s office. “Our boys have been tracking him and he keeps circling back here.”
“You think he’s waiting for her?” Randon asked.
Kurt yanked his phone from his pocket and tapped the text message from Blaez, an Alpha tracker from the Bold and Free Memphis charter. “He stopped moving once she arrived.”
“I see that,” Randon said, zeroing in on the messages exchanged before studying Pageant. He took a deep breath. “Damn it.”
“You’re toast, brother.”
“I’m beginning to think so.” Drawn to Pageant even more since he’d held her in his arms and kissed her, Randon watched her tuck a stray blonde lock behind her ear. Unable to secure the strand, she finally let it fall free in front of her face as she fiddled with a remote control device.
The sheriff appeared and handed her a plastic container. “I think the batteries are dead. Try those.”
After dumping the old batteries in the trash and securing the new ones, she pointed the handheld remote at a large projector screen. A dark picture appeared before them.
Kurt leaned sideways and said, “If your woman isn’t running scared by the time this is over, there’s something wrong with her.”
“Why’s that?” Randon kept his voice low.
“You�
��ll see,” Kurt sang, turning to the other MC members as they strolled inside the sheriff’s office. To the average outsider, the trackers looked like ordinary bikers, but they were anything but. They were the Alphas of several packs, brought together for one common cause—to stop a murderer before he ruined a nation’s sense of security and devastated the people left behind.
A dash of light shot across the room before Deputy Phillips entered the office. About thirty seconds after he arrived, his body was flung one way and then another. When the deputy landed on the floor, his head swung to the side. A double click sound rang out and then the deputy appeared to go into seizures.
For a brief second, Deputy Phillips remained still, but his exposed neck showed proof of a bite mark. Then, another mysterious click-clack noise resounded. This time, the deputy’s head snapped to the other side before his body went into violent tremors. A quick ripping sound sliced through the air. Randon braced for the slurping and gurgling noises certain to follow.
Another beam shot across the screen like blue lightning. Deputy Phillips was left behind to fight for his life. Blood spurted everywhere. The deputy somehow rose to his feet, stumbled to the desk, and miraculously made it to the phone before collapsing.
Pageant pointed the remote control at the television. Pausing the image on the screen, she turned to them and said, “I know what happened next.”
Noticing her ashen skin, Randon went to her. He longed to touch her, perhaps comfort and console her. “You okay?”
“I’m still standing.”
For how long was the question.
They’d known one another for less than twenty-four hours and yet he couldn’t explain the yearning. He had this profound need to wrap his arms around her and hold her close, but he feared the consequences of such an action. Her peers would want explanations. His MC brothers would demand to know why he’d compromised them. There were rules in place and the MC strictly prohibited showing instant affection to one’s mate. Speculation risks were great when one of them made a move to protect an unclaimed mate. Kurt would support him, but Kurt was the kind of friend who would stand up for him even if he happened to witness the firing of a smoking gun.
Pleasant Extortion [The Extortionists 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 3