My Feline Protector (Middlemarch Shifters Book 6)

by Shelley Munro

  She couldn’t continue this way.

  She didn’t love him any longer, wondered if she’d ever loved him.

  Somehow, he’d ended up moving in and leaving her to pay the bills. Whenever she asked him to help and to pay a share, he flipped his lid. Jenny would ask—no. He was here because of her, and she had to get the money from him and get him to leave.

  All she had to do was steel her nerve and tell him.

  “I want sex tonight.”

  “No.” The refusal escaped before she even thought about reacting to his demands.

  His head snapped up, fury blazing in his eyes, pulling his facial muscles taut. “What did you say?”

  Sugar, she’d done it now. “I said no. I don’t want you here. I want you to move out.”

  He stood, his big, muscular frame looming over her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. When he stopped, her head whirled, her thoughts spinning in a muddy mess.

  “Don’t tell me what to do.” He gripped her right arm and dragged her from the kitchen. Agony tore through her arm. She tried to dig in her heels but she was no match for his strength. She belted her hip on a sideboard and cried out. Royce didn’t stop. He continued to yank her toward the flight of stairs leading to the upper floor. She stubbed her toe and tripped on the stairs. Royce still didn’t stop until he reached her bedroom.

  Tears streamed down her eyes, blurring her vision. He threw her on the bed, not caring he’d hurt her, that her arm throbbed in discomfort.

  Instead, he stood and unfastened his belt, yanking it from his belt loops.

  London screamed as he lifted his arm, tried to scramble away.

  She screamed again as the belt buckle bit into her flesh. Pain tore through her shoulder, her ribs with each blow. He cursed at her, called her a whore and a bitch. She screamed at the flare of agony. She screamed at the stinging, hammering blows. London screamed until her throat burned but he didn’t stop.

  He didn’t stop.

  “London. London.”

  She bolted upright, her chest hurting, aching, her eyes squinting in defense against the bright light. A dog barked. Another growled, piercing her confusion.

  “London, what is it?”

  The concern pierced her panic, but she flinched at a movement to her right.

  Her eyes focused, and she realized tears wet her cheeks.

  Gerard sat on the side of the bed. “English, what’s wrong? You were screaming.”

  The bedroom door flew open and Henry burst inside. Geoffrey scampered in after Henry, the fur bristling along his spine.

  Henry’s gaze went to all four corners of the bedroom before focusing on her and Gerard.

  “I had a bad dream,” London said. Not so much a dream as a memory.

  “Everything okay?” Henry asked.

  “Yeah, thanks,” Gerard said.

  Henry and Geoffrey left the bedroom and Henry closed the door after them.

  “I’m sorry I woke you.” She couldn’t meet his gaze, not when the past filled her mind with renewed horror.

  Gerard reached for her hand and wove their fingers together. “Want to talk?”

  Not really. “I dreamed Royce was hitting me with his belt.” Not quite what she’d meant to say. She hadn’t had this dream for a long time. Thank goodness she’d woken before it had become worse. Much worse. “I’m sorry.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you want to lie back down, or would you like to get up and have a whisky?”

  She shuddered at the idea of closing her eyes, seeing the slow-running video repeat in her mind. “Whisky.”

  “Okay.” He stood and pulled on a pair of jeans.

  “You don’t have to get up too.”

  “You’re my mate,” he said in a firm voice. “You were talking in your sleep, then you screamed. I could feel your terror.” He padded around to her side of the bed and cupped her face in his hands. “I’m sensing this wasn’t simply a bad dream. I hope you’ll talk to me, tell me what happened.”

  Her breaths rasped in and out, in and out, and she wanted to run and hide, find a safe place. Instead, she stood in Gerard’s loose embrace and trembled. His big hand rubbed her spine until her tremors eased. “It was seeing Royce again. I-I know it was him. The note. He’s trying to s-scare me, make me remember.”

  “What is he trying to get you to remember?”

  “That he’s bigger and stronger than me.”

  His hand smoothed over her hair. “What did he do to you, London?”

  “He-he beat me.” She tried to pull away, but he held her with his gentleness. She sneaked a quick glance at his face before focusing on her bare feet. Her toenails were still bright pink from the pedicure she and Jenny had done in Queenstown. To celebrate their bungee jump. Her eyes filled with tears at the thought of her sister. Royce had killed her.

  Gerard released her and picked up his discarded T-shirt. “Lift your arms for me.”

  Like a wooden doll, she obeyed, raising her arms over her head. He drew her arms through the sleeves and tugged the T-shirt over her head, smoothing the soft fabric over her torso. His scent surrounded her, soothed her lingering fears.

  Gerard handed her a pair of sweat pants, and he helped her balance as she stepped into them. Once she’d dressed, he took her hand again and led her from the bedroom to the kitchen. He switched on a light and shunted her to a stool at the breakfast bar. “Sit there while I get us whisky.”

  She slid onto the stool and hunched over, periodically shivering. She wrapped her arms around herself to warm her chilled limbs.

  “Here you go.” Gerard handed her a tumbler of whisky and rounded the counter to sit on the stool beside her.

  London wrapped her hand around the glass and took a sip. The peaty flavor burst across her taste buds as she swallowed the liquid. It warmed all the way down her throat. She risked a glance at Gerard. He smiled at her, his expression containing infinite patience.

  “What did he do to you, English? You mentioned he took up with your sister and married her, but there’s more, isn’t there?”

  She gave a jerky nod, her mind shuddering at revisiting this past. But she couldn’t let Royce win, and not telling Gerard, a man who cared for her, would mean Royce emerged the victor. She swallowed and swallowed again to rid herself of the lump in her throat. “He broke my arm, and he raped me.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “The bastard raped her,” Gerard told Henry the next morning. He filled the jug and hit the on-off button. “He beat her, broke her arm and raped her, then moved on to Jenny. London said Jenny didn’t believe her when she tried to warn her, that she didn’t see evidence of the beatings he gave London because Jenny traveled a lot for her work. He isolated London and covered all his bases, did the groundwork, and broke London’s spirit. Bastard told Jenny that London would try to make trouble, and Jenny didn’t believe London. Jenny thought London was jealous and would say anything to break them up. The sisters had an argument, and London moved to Bath.

  “They didn’t speak again until just before their trip to Australia and New Zealand. Jenny contacted London and apologized. London said she hung up on her sister at first, but that Jenny persisted and went to Bath.” Gerard shook his head, angry on London’s behalf but wary of attacking Jenny too much in Henry’s presence. “London made Jenny work for forgiveness. She spent two weeks in Bath, approaching London every day and telling her how sorry she was about letting a man come between them. London said that although her sister had hurt her and she was still angry, Jenny was the only family she had left, so she finally agreed to this trip, taking one day at a time. Jenny told London she’d seen a solicitor and had started divorce proceedings. Did Jenny say much to you?”

  “She told me they’d argued and reconciled recently, but not what the argument was about. She said her husband used his fists,” Henry said. “We didn’t have much time to discuss things.”

  Gerard squeezed Henry’s biceps. “I’m sorry.”

 
; “Not your fault. Is London okay?”

  “She will be,” Gerard said. “Once we catch this bastard.”

  Gerard’s cell phone rang. He didn’t recognized the caller. “Hello, Anderson and Drummond Security.”

  “Hello. This is Matthew Jonas. I’m a real estate agent in Wanaka. My client has purchased a home here or at least he’s ready to sign the sale and purchase documents. He’s a famous author and doesn’t want strangers wandering around the property. He wants an idea of how much it will cost to put in security features—lights and cameras plus a security fence. Would you be able to give him a quote?”

  “Did someone refer you?” Gerard asked. They hadn’t started advertising yet.

  “Yes, the owners of the Gilcrest Station recommended you to my client. He’s staying there at present,” Matthew Jonas said. “Now, are you able to do a quote? The sooner, the better.”

  Gerard checked his watch. “It will take me three hours to drive to Wanaka. I could meet you or your client at one, if that’s suitable.”

  “Perfect. I’ll text you the address. I will meet you at the property at one.”

  Gerard hung up. “Another job. Just a quote, but the word is getting out.”

  “What’s the job?”

  “Property security. Cameras, lights and fencing. He didn’t mention inside the property, but I guess it will be clearer once I see the place.”

  “I’m sorry this is falling on you.”

  “No problem,” Gerard said. “I’m sure it won’t be for much longer. Once your name is cleared, things will return to normal.” Or as normal as they could be when a shifter lost his mate. It wasn’t bloody fair. Most shifters never found their true mate, the being who completed them. To have a true mate murdered, scarcely before the relationship began, must be hell.

  “Car coming,” Henry said.

  Gerard left the room and entered the lounge, so he could peer out the window. The tension slid from his shoulders. Isabella and Leo. He went to answer the door.

  “Our man didn’t make an appearance,” Leo said once the door closed after them. “Not a peep. Felix and Saber saw no one either.”

  “Come and have a coffee.” Gerard led the way into the kitchen and was pleased to see London had emerged. Her eyes bore large shadows beneath them, and she was pale, but she smiled. He winked in return, relieved she’d picked herself up after last night. He’d worried about her.

  “So what’s the plan?” Leo asked. “Should we stake out the place tonight?”

  “I can’t,” Isabella said. “I’ve got my practice self-defense class tonight—the one for Emily and our friends. Are you still coming, London? I need someone with experience to help out.”

  “I’ll be there,” London said. “Although I don’t know that I’d call myself experienced. I’ve taken two different classes in Bath.”

  “I can keep an eye on the house again tonight,” Leo offered. “The idea of him out there, taunting London. He needs to be stopped.”

  “We’ll stop him.” Henry straightened from his slouch against the counter. “He’ll make a mistake soon.”

  “He will,” Isabella agreed.

  London sighed. “I hope so. I can’t take much more, this looking over my shoulder.”

  “Fancy time away from Middlemarch? I’ve got to go to Wanaka to do a quote. Wanna come with me?”

  She nodded. “Jenny and I didn’t have time to visit Wanaka. I’ve heard the lake is pretty.”

  “Once I’ve done the quote we can spend a few hours sightseeing. They’ve filmed movies there. You know. Those ones with the elves,” Gerard said.

  London glanced at him, the corners of her mouth curling up in an almost smile. “You’d better not say that to movie fans. Those movies were popular.”

  “Not my thing,” Gerard said, after everyone finished laughing at him. He didn’t care, though, because London looked brighter. He’d do anything to make her happy.

  * * * * *

  “You have such beautiful scenery in New Zealand.” They drove past farmland and vineyards, rivers and small country towns on the way to Wanaka, the tourist town on the banks of a lake by the same name.

  She pulled her attention from the scenery to study Gerard. Since last night he’d been so good to her, yet a part of her felt embarrassed by both her behavior and the fact she’d allowed herself to become a victim. She’d known she should have broken off the relationship with Royce earlier. She’d even sensed there had been someone else, but she’d never considered her sister as the other woman since work commitments had kept her away so often.

  “None of this is your fault.” Gerard’s hand landed on hers and squeezed.

  “Are you a mind-reader and a hero?”

  “I’m an ordinary man.”

  She sniffed. “There is nothing ordinary about you, Gerard Drummond. You’re a special man.”

  “Once this is over, we’ll go on holiday. One of the Pacific Islands. How does that sound?”

  “What about your business?”

  “Henry has been asking his stepfather to visit ever since we arrived here. If he has to fill in for me for two weeks, he might actually come. I know that would please Henry. He needs his family and his friends around him now.”

  “I’d love a holiday in the sunshine. I’ve always wanted to go to a tropical island. Tell me which one,” she said. “Give me something to look forward to.”

  Gerard returned his hand to the steering wheel as they reached the outskirts of Wanaka. “Me too. We could go to Fiji or Western Samoa or Rarotonga. We’ll check out the internet when we’re home in Middlemarch. I love the idea of seeing you in a bikini.”

  “Don’t own one. I-everyone told me I was too big to wear a bikini.”

  “Bullshit,” Gerard said. “You have seriously sexy curves that will rock a bikini. The only thing we’ll need to be careful of is not getting your pale skin sunburned.” He grinned and his eyes drifted toward feline. “I can’t wait to rub lotion on you. It won’t be a hardship.”

  “Sounds lovely.”

  “We could even get married over there.”

  Her lips parted. No, no, she was actually gaping. She pressed her lips together and stared at him.

  “Too soon? I wanted you to know the direction of my thoughts. I want you for my mate. You know that. Since you’re human, you’ll want marriage. It’s the human way.”

  “Don’t felines get married?”

  “Not all the time. If both parties are feline, they can mark each other and that process is tighter than marriage vows.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “I’m fine with that,” Gerard said. “This is the right street. The impression the real estate agent gave me was that the house was private and at the end of a long driveway. You going to act as my office assistant again?”

  “Sure. The quicker we get this done, the longer we’ll have to sightsee. Is the real estate agent meeting us here?”

  “So he said.” He drove around a bend and the house came into view. A silver Mercedes sedan sat in front of the house. “That must be him. The notebook and pen are on the rear seat.”

  “Where is he?”

  “The front door is open. He must be inside.”

  They climbed from the SUV and approached the front door.

  “Hello,” Gerard called. “Anyone there?”

  “In here,” a masculine voice called.

  Gerard headed toward the voice and London trailed him. He stalked through the door and disappeared. London hurried to catch up. She heard a thump, darted through the door and came to an abrupt halt. Gerard lay on the floor, still, and she could see blood trickling down his face.

  Royce stood over him, a smirk twisting his expression. “Hello, sweetheart. Bet you didn’t expect to see me.”

  London took two quick steps back, blinking, even though she’d expected Royce, sensed she’d been right to fear he was the one who killed Jenny. “Y-you killed Jenny.”

  “The bitch owed me.”
r />   “You killed her.”

  “She wanted a divorce. Bitch thought she could click her fingers and get rid of me, thought she could keep her money. After all I went through.”

  London pressed her hand to her mouth and inched away. Gerard wasn’t moving. Her gaze returned to Royce. He’d dropped weight, his face was leaner than she remembered, the furrow between his brows and the ones bracketing his mouth more obvious than when she’d last seen him.

  “If she hadn’t opened her mouth, she wouldn’t have died, but the bitch told me she’d changed her will. Told me and laughed, so I shoved the knife in her chest. Just wanted to scare her, but the bitch laughed at me.”

  London’s gaze darted to the door they’d entered, and she whirled, making a run for it. Not quick enough. He seized her, one hand branding her upper arm, and the other fisted in her ponytail.

  “I have nothing you need,” she gritted out, tears of pain overflowing, splashing her cheeks.

  He hauled her around to face him, his cheeks and jaws mottled with anger. He pushed his face close to hers. “Bitch told me she’d left everything to you. If I get rid of you, I won’t have a problem.”

  A horn blared from her jacket pocket, the booming sound making her jump. “It’s my friend. She’s expecting me to call.”

  Confidence oozed from him. Entitlement. And it pissed her off. Anger spilled through her, a whoosh of fiery heat and resentment. She might have been a victim once, but no longer. Royce released his grip a fraction to grope in her pocket, turning her body so she faced away from him and it was easier for him to grab her phone.

  The relaxation of his guard.

  Idiot.

  She wasn’t the same mouse he’d raped. The classes she’d taken in Bath flew through her mind like a slow-moving movie. She gripped his forearms and dropped her weight downward, taking him by surprise. The instant she had her balance, she stomped on his foot, hard. He shouted, his weight hunching forward as pain took control. She shoved back her elbow, shouting when it connected with his cheekbone.