by Angela White
Marc groaned, “Not that again, huh?” He patted the straw next to him. “Come on over and I’ll rub your belly or something.”
The wolf didn’t budge.
Marc sighed as a fresh whine sounded. He wanted to let the wolf go free even more now than he already had. “I’m not a bad guy. Don’t attack me, I won’t hurt you. You’ll be fed and have...”
Marc stopped, aware that the words were for himself. There was no way the animal understood.
Not sure if anything but time would help, Marc decided to scan the literature that JD had given him. He quickly read the details on types, food, and mating habits, becoming interested in the hierarchy. He hadn’t known that betas sometimes had pups with the alpha male, against the alpha female’s wishes. He wasn’t surprised when the pamphlet stated that the jealous alpha female was a danger to any resulting pups. He glanced over at the wolf. “Was that what happened to you?”
Dog yawned and went back to chew cleaning his thick fur in front of the window.
Lips curling at his own silliness, Marc read the rest of the information, learning basic details to care for the wild animal. Most of it he could do, but that ranging from 10-1000 miles was out of his control. He didn’t own property and he wasn’t leaving the service for a wolf.
The wolf padded to the ladder, whining again as he tried to judge the drop. He chose not to leap, going back to the window instead.
When he sank down on his haunches and howled, Marc left him alone. The wolf’s old life was over. Even animals deserved a mourning period.
5
Marc couldn’t stay awake as evening came.
He’d tried to sleep while his team was around, but their presence had kept him in that mission state where he could only doze. It had felt too much like combat to relax. Relaxing got men killed.
Marc’s lids drooped, shadowy barn going dark for a few seconds. He jerked awake, pinning the wolf’s location. He didn’t know if the animal would attack again while he slept, but it was foolish to assume otherwise.
The chill in the night air eventually forced Marc into a ball for warmth conservation. The heat from his own body, combined with the comfort of his breath, lulled him into a light slumber against his will. When nothing bad happened, deeper sleep came swiftly.
Marc dreamed of a warm body against his that was providing protection that was as angry as it was comforting. Confused, Marc snapped awake to discover golden eyes inches from his. The wolf had gotten a lot closer than he’d anticipated.
Fighting the instant urge to get defensive, Marc yawned and very slowly brought his hand up to wipe at his face. He sometimes tossed and stressed all night. If movement were a trigger, the wolf would have attacked him already. Still, Marc stayed ready to snap the animal’s thick neck. The moves were almost routine to him now.
Marc blinked as hot breath panted in his face, curdling his stomach. The wolf sniffed his head, his chin...the fur on its tail bushed out.
Marc glowered, patience low. “Don’t make me kill you.”
The wild animal stared in hatred and frustration.
“I can’t take you home. You’ll be shot.”
The wolf didn’t understand.
Tiring of the staring contest, Marc bared his teeth. “Down!”
Surprising the human, the wolf whimpered and very reluctantly did as he’d been ordered. Reclaiming his previous position along Marc’s leg, the wolf began to pant and whine in alternate rhythms.
Marc groaned, closing his lids. “We’re gonna have to find some common ground, mutt.”
The whine changed to a low growl of warning that made Marc snicker. It was followed by a long yawn.
“Let’s get a couple more hours, Dog. I’ll need it later when we fix your manners.”
As Marc drifted off, he felt the wolf’s nose against his hand. Soft fur brushed his fingers and then heavy heat dropped onto his knee.
Comforted, Marc let sleep come without fighting. He was safe.
6
“You still up there?”
Marc snapped awake to discover that dawn had come. He swept the barn loft and found the wolf in the open window, growling lowly.
“We’re fine.”
“You need anything?”
She sounded happy that he wasn’t coming down yet. Marc was relieved.
“Nope.” He wasn’t ready to deal with her yet, either. He was storing details, though. He’d only saw Julia leave the house a couple of times over the last day. Once, she’d gone behind the house and spent time working on the mostly dead rose bushes that had once enveloped the entire home with the sweet scent of flowers. The rest of the time, he didn’t even see her through the ranch windows. In the evening, there was only a single light on in her bedroom. She’d changed so drastically that it was as if she wasn’t the same person.
Still recovering, Marc slept, not worrying about the wolf. If the animal took a bite of him, he would pay it back in kind. Eventually, Dog would adjust to a new life. Man and beast had been doing it for centuries.
The wolf waited until the human was snoring again before carefully trotting over to sniff. The wolf was tired, and still thirsty. Reluctantly, he sank down a few feet away from his new alpha and whined low in his throat until sleep came.
Marc drifted in and out of consciousness as the morning passed, uncomfortable, but not so much that he couldn’t rest. In between sweeps of the loft, Marc’s dreams became the ghost of his past. In those foggy clips of heaven and hell, he was able to find his heart. This was the only place he had one now.
As the day slowly crawled by, the wolf gradually got closer again. He could smell the water in the man’s canteen. He also caught the scent of his home on the man’s paws–along with blood, smoke, and fluids from the moving box they’d come here in.
“No...”
The wolf flinched, but quickly realized the man wasn’t awake. He edged closer, licking at the hand that he’d been watered from.
Marc slowly moved his fingers against the wolf’s jaw, ready to jerk out of the way of snapping teeth.
Very thirsty, and familiar with the feel of human hands on him, the wolf allowed it.
Marc was surprised. The wolf had the advantage right now. He had expected to have to fight the animal a few more times.
The wolf retreated from Marc’s fingers, whining again, but when Marc’s hand inched toward the canteen, the wolf dropped to his haunches to wait, tongue lolling out eagerly.
Marc poured water into his hand again, and the wolf rushed forward to lick it dry.
Marc kept doing it until the canteen was empty. He wasn’t staying up here much longer. The wolf would have to be brought down, one way or another.
The wolf lingered to lick the last drops from the canteen, feeling better. Still angry about his captivity however, the wolf showed gratitude by arching his leg.
“Ah, man!” Marc jumped out of the way, but not before his boots and lower pants leg had been hosed. “Real nice, Dog! Real nice.”
As if he understood the sarcasm, the wolf’s tongue lolled out again like a puppy who’d found something amusing.
Marc shook his boot and his head. “I can see how our relationship is gonna go.”
The wolf lay down in Marc’s warm spot, whining.
“Oh, hell no.” Marc was done. He quickly climbed down to go get a shower. The smell of the wolf was as intolerable as his howling.
The wolf came to the edge as the man disappeared, still whining. He considered leaping again, but in the end, he returned to the warm spot and curled up for another nap. Training a human is hard.
7
Marc finished in the shower quickly and went straight back out to the barn, without running into Julia or anyone else.
If the jeep was parked next to the ladder, the wolf could jump down on his own. While the animal ate and drank his fill, Marc planned to come back to the house and finish recovering in a real bed.
As he entered the barn office, Marc got a cold chill. It reminde
d him that he believed at least some of Julia’s wild tale. He latched the office door and slid into the main barn with a hand on his holster.
Marc spotted the wolf at the edge of the loft, appearing as if he were considering trying the long jump.
“Don’t do that!” Marc groaned. He hurried to the jeep.
Marc carefully drove the vehicle to where he wanted it and killed the engine. As he slid the keys into his pocket and stepped out, Marc heard footsteps. He spun around.
Thud!
The rifle butt knocked Marc out. He dropped heavily to the ground as his assailant chuckled cruelly.
“Hiya, buddy!”
The wolf watched from the loft as two men dragged his alpha from the barn, not shutting the main doors. Noticing that the jeep was closer, the wolf leapt into the driver’s seat gratefully. It felt wonderful to be off the ledge.
Dog nosed through the cooler again, finding nothing, and then padded to the pile of crunchy food still on the floor. Once he ate his fill, the wolf began searching for water.
His nose led him from the barn and toward the thick woods that bordered the ranch. He could almost feel the cool creek water rushing over his paws!
Dog vanished into the trees as Marc was shoved into a truck and driven north.
Chapter Six
1
Voices brought Marc to alertness, pain shooting through his skull and arms. What happened?
“This won’t go down as easy as you think. I know him, man. He’s dangerous.”
“So are we.”
“Yeah. We should kill him.”
“Just make sure his ropes are tight!”
“This is going to go badly. I want to be sent out before Eibar gets here.”
“Fine!” The truck bounced harshly under angry hands.
Marc listened to the conversation through the thick fog of a concussion. As his stomach roiled, he twisted in time to avoid the mess. The stocky little brown guy sitting next to him wasn’t as lucky.
“Gross!”
“You son of a...” Thud!
Marc slumped over at the first retaliatory hit, unable to fight back yet.
“I said don’t kill him! He’s worth a lot of money.”
Marc stayed down on the seat, trying to keep from puking again. When he recovered, the men in this truck were going to find out what a mistake they’d made.
“How long to the meeting place?”
Marc vaguely recognized the voices, but his injury prevented him from placing them with names.
“Twenty minutes, but our buyer won’t be there until later. Chad wants our golden goose secured and waiting.”
Chad?! Marc’s stomach lurched again. It all makes sense now. He sprayed across the floorboard.
“Damn! Pull over!”
“No. Deal with it until we get there. The boss said no stops.”
It was a miserable ride for Marc, who now knew what the wolf had felt like while in the crate. He tried to stay still and get control of his guts, but the truck skidding and sliding over the rugged ranch road made it difficult.
“Is he alive?”
“For now.”
The trip felt much longer than it was. Every bounce of the truck was painful and nauseating. As they arrived, Marc once again vomited.
They aren’t using this truck for a while, he thought groggily.
“Pull him out!”
Marc was in no condition to resist as he was dragged from the backseat. Knees thumping against the ground, Marc groaned at the fresh waves of nausea. Vomit flew again.
“Yuck!”
Marc hit the ground hard as his escorts let go to avoid the mess. He continued to empty his stomach, now too dazed to make out the conversation going on around him. All he could tell was that there were multiple people. Their words blended to make his head pound and his eyes throb.
“Wipe him off,” a familiar voice instructed, chuckling. “He never could hold his guts.”
Marc was hauled and shoved into a small cabin surrounded by tall, blurry trees. He thought it was on the rear of Julia’s property, but couldn’t be certain yet.
The cabin was filthy. Layered in dirt and garbage, Marc assumed this was where Chad had been hiding when strangers came to the ranch. Inside the cabin were six big men who stood up menacingly as Marc was shoved toward a chair. He recognized two of them with faint anger.
A small kitchenette with a knife block beckoned from across the warm room, but Marc ignored it, knowing he would never make it through all of the men before he was shot or knocked out again.
Unresisting, Marc’s wrists were secured behind his back and then to a chair after he was shoved down. The odor of unwashed bodies coming from this cabin was enough to send his guts back into convulsions and Marc fought to stop it. Blowing all his strength out in chunks wouldn’t help.
“Get the fire restarted. The smoke is our signal that he’s here.”
“I just put it out. It’s hot in here!”
“Tough shit. We’ve got plans to carry out.”
“Is the buyer close?”
“He will be soon. Right now, we’ll have a Q&A with our old teammate.”
More cruel jeers flowed. It made Marc try harder to recover.
“Did you search him?”
“I’ve got his gun. We put the rest of his effects in a duffle to dispose of later.”
“I’ll take that gun. Always wanted his 1911.”
“Hey, what about that wolf he brought? Should I tell the boys to kill it?”
“Why bother? In a couple weeks, the ranch will be sold and we’ll return south. Let it go. He had no right to capture it anyway.”
“I rescued it.”
Everyone swung to find Marc staring steadily at his former best friend. Tall, dark, and handsome, Chad had gotten the team into several scrapes with his superior attitude and good looks. However, the base lizards hadn’t ever given him the time of day. “Remember that shepherd pup we fed the night Kenn blew up the still?” Marc distracted.
Chad leered widely. He was delighted that Marc knew who was behind his discomfort. “Yep. Did you know it died in the fire?”
“I was told you killed it,” Marc accused without rage. There would be time for that later.
“I tossed it in. The fire did the killing.” Chad knelt down in front of his captive. “Marcus Brady, badass Marine. I’ve waited a long time for this moment.”
Stalling, Marc acted as if he were trying to focus through the swelling of his face. “Huh?”
“Pay attention!” Chad slammed the butt of his knife against Marc’s knee.
Expecting something more painful, Marc only grunted. He needed more time to get himself under control. There were still three sneering shadows in front of him instead of just one.
“Tough bastard, but Eibar’s got plans for you,” Chad stated happily. He dug the tip of the knife into Marc’s jeans and sliced up the thigh. “He wants you castrated first. No chances of a repeat with the wife while you’re his guest.”
Racked with ugly chills, Marc felt the grayness coming. Too many hits had rattled his brain. There was only one thing he was capable of right now.
The knife sliced into his thigh as Chad ripped through another jean swatch. No longer being cautious, the mercenary reached forward to rip away that side of the pants.
Almost grinning through the disgust, Marc puked in his face.
The resulting chaos of Chad shouting and slinging, men groaning and yelling, and outside guards coming in gave Marc the rest of the time that he needed to form a crude, quick plan. He sucked in deep breaths to help finish clearing his mind. He would definitely need a little medical care when this was over.
“Move him to the floor! Get his clothes!” Chad shouted as he stripped his shirt off.
Three of Chad’s men reluctantly advanced through the mess toward Marc.
Marc let the anger come now, needing it to fuel his body. “How’s the new life, boys?”
Two of the men winced. Leon an
d Jim had both been discharged early, for reasons unknown. The squad had only been told they were moonlighting in ways they shouldn’t have been. “Chad came to you, right? And you sucked up his lies like dogs.”
Neither of them responded.
Marc’s face morphed into the furious team leader they both remembered so well. “I couldn’t be more ashamed of you.”
Marc’s disappointment was a curse to the two men, who refused to answer or even meet his eyes.
Marc knew it wouldn’t matter, though. When he ran, they would still try to kill him.
After the chair ropes were loosened, Marc was hauled up by the third, unknown man. He carefully staggered against his captor, hands reaching...
Leon and Jim hung back, ashamed of their choices.
“Grab him!” Chad shouted, detecting the trick too late.
Marc used his bound hands to grab the gun from an unprotected holster, and then slammed his weight into the surprised man, knocking him into Jim and Leon. The trio tangled and fell, as Marc had counted on. Neither of those former Marines had been gifted with grace or quick reactions.
“Shoot him!” Chad ordered, slippery fingers fumbling for the Colt in his waistband. “Watch the door!”
Marc ran for the window, leaping as hard as he could against the glass.
“No!”
Marc broke through the window easily, but he hit the ground hard and lost his grip on the gun. It slid across the dirt.
Sucking in air through the pain, Marc hurriedly brought his bound hands under his feet to have them in front. The bleeding Marine then grabbed the fallen weapon and stumbled into the woods behind the cabin.
“Get him!”
“Around the back!”
Chad and his men also hurried, but Marc was already out of sight by the time they cleared the side of the old caretaker home.
“Find him! Get everyone out here!”
Marc kept running, stolen M9 ready. He worked the ropes around his wrists as he went.