by Lola Gabriel
She remained silent, shifting her eyes away and staring stonily at the door leading toward the offices.
“Wow, what did she do, Cameron?” Jeannie asked as they continued through the threshold.
Cameron found himself unwilling to speak. The door closed on Jeannie and he led the brunette toward the lockup.
“I have already confiscated your purse,” the sheriff told her, but there was no longer a bite in his tone. He could sense a deep unease in the girl, and he did not want to push her too hard. “I will find out who you are in a minute. Are you sure you don’t want to tell me your name?”
They stood in booking and Cameron took the cuffs off her to print her fingers. He watched her rub her wrists, noting her perfectly manicured hands and expensive clothing. Cameron was no fashionista, but he would have wagered a month’s pay that her outfit cost more than his Jeep Cherokee.
Finally, the woman looked up at him, her deep coffee eyes meeting his bright blue ones. Her next words surprised him.
“I’ll tell you,” she sighed heavily. “Yes, I’m Gabriella Medina, but please, you cannot tell anyone I’m here.”
2
“Who are you?” the sheriff asked her, and Gabriella steeled herself from screeching at him. She didn’t know why she could not contain her emotions. It was unlike her to act out, but her nerves were taut and she could not stop the barrage of words from escaping her mouth.
Why is he being such an asshole? She had just been through a terrible ordeal and he was making it worse by treating her like a criminal.
It had taken her four days to travel from New York City to Montana, and when she arrived across the state line from North Dakota two days earlier, Gabriella had felt a sense of relief so great, she had almost cried.
I left the past in New York and I can lay low here for as long as I need to, she thought happily. But as she continued to drive across I-94, her joy was short lived. There is nothing out here, she realized. There is nothing but farmland and desolation. I can’t hide out here—I will rot away in the elements.
It was not until she had reached Great Falls that she had felt a spark of hope again. She had been sure that civilization had not yet reached Montana.
I can live here, she thought, exhaling as she saw a cute little coffee shop and a liquor store. Caffeine and alcohol would make this place a little more tolerable.
It did not take her long to find a small house for rent just on the town line. The elderly couple was moving into a retirement complex and needed the money to maintain the mortgage on the house. Gabriella could hardly believe how little they were asking for rent, and she almost felt bad accepting their terms. The difference in the cost of real estate from New York to Montana was staggering.
“We got one more year on the mortgage,” the owner of the house, an old man named Allister, had told her. “It would be a shame to sell it when we’re so close to owning it.”
Gabriella paid the couple a substantial deposit so they would not question her lack of identification. She had given them the same fake name she had given the sheriff; Grace Kelly. But unlike Cameron Lapin, Allister and his wife did not seem to get the humor in her alias choice. Gabby was not sure where the name had sprung to her; it had just seemed fitting somehow.
“It’s just you, right, honey?” Allister’s wife asked, peering at the silver Mercedes as if she expected a man to be crouched in the seats.
“Yes, ma’am,” Gabriella replied. “I’m a writer, and I needed to get away from the city.”
Allister’s wife nodded appreciatively.
“I could’ve been a writer, too,” she said, “if Allister here ain’t knocked me up all them years ago.”
Gabriella swallowed her shock and mild disgust, forcing a smile on her face.
“I am sure I will find much inspiration here,” she assured them, and that seemed to please them both.
The accident had occurred as she was making a trip to Walmart for essentials. While the house came fully furnished, food was not included, and Gabriella was determined to get the smell of geriatrics from the three-bedroom, two-bathroom home.
Air freshener, bleach, and incense, she recited to herself as she waited for the light to turn yellow. Her mind had been on how long it had been since she had cleaned her own apartment as she made the turn, and the impact had been absolutely terrifying.
That bastard ran a red light and I am being held responsible for standing my ground.
As she sat in the police station later, she realized how lucky they had both been to walk away unscathed, but it was difficult to count her blessings with the sheriff being such a jerk.
“I already told you,” she growled at him, trying her best to keep her temper in check. However, Sheriff Lapin was making it extremely difficult. “I am Gabriella Medina.”
“Yeah, I got that part,” he replied. “Why are you so special? Why would anybody care if you were here?”
For a moment, Gabriella was at a loss for words. He really doesn’t know who I am, she thought, even though that lady at the front recognized me.
She was filled with a combination of hope and offense. Her face was splashed across the front page of high-end magazines in every continent in the world, and that was well before the nasty business with the mayor of New York. The sheriff was young; certainly younger than she would expect a sheriff to be.
He is also more attractive than I would expect a sheriff to be, she thought, and then immediately felt her cheeks turn crimson. You’re in deep shit and you’re checking out the man who wants to throw you in jail. You need a good therapist, Gabs, because you’re losing it.
“I… I’m a model,” she told him quickly. “No one important.”
His incredible blue eyes narrowed and he nodded slowly.
“I remember who you are,” he said slowly.
Gabby felt the fragile bubble of hope she had been holding onto burst. She waited for him to say more, but he did not. She wondered why.
“What are you doing in Great Falls, Miss Medina?” he asked her pointedly, and she knew that lying to him was not an option. Strangely, she did not feel the need to lie, despite her precarious circumstances.
“Hiding,” she replied truthfully. “I am trying to escape the media.”
The sheriff sat back in his chair, and Gabby noticed that his pecs seemed to ripple beneath the khaki of his shirt.
Stop it, she cried to herself, but she could not pull her eyes away from his chest.
He had not bothered to process her after her confession and instead led her to an interrogation room to talk.
“Are you going to charge me?” she finally asked, tearing her gaze from his torso to look into his blazing blue eyes.
“I’m not sure,” he replied, and Gabriella felt her back tense.
Is he toying with me? Or is he going to ask for some creepy quid pro quo because I’ll scream, I swear to God—
“The witnesses say you caused the accident,” the sheriff continued. “But it’s a tough call. I’m choosing not to press charges for now, but I may do so later. I’ll talk to Bob about you both dealing with your own damages since neither one of you seems to be at fault.”
Gabby wondered if his words were meant to be a veiled threat of sorts.
“Can I go?” she asked, unsure of what else to do.
He studied her face for a long moment. “Are you going to be able to behave yourself in Great Falls?” he asked.
Gabriella’s ears grew hot, and she glared at him.
He’s flexing his muscles here. He holds your freedom in the palm of that large hand. Don’t give him a reason to take it from you.
“I will probably be moving on from Great Falls now,” she replied tiredly, realizing what a daunting task it would be to pack up and move forward, especially without a car.
Who knows where the next decent-sized town will be, she thought mournfully, but she dared not say anything aloud. Her problems were hers. Cameron Lapin didn’t care about her issues.
&nbs
p; “Why are you leaving?” he asked, sounding surprised.
Gabby stared at him as if he were insane. “I came here to hide out and now I’ve been exposed,” she answered slowly. “Kind of defeats the purpose of me staying here.”
Sheriff Lapin gazed at her pensively. “If you want to leave, I certainly won’t stand in your way, but no one knows who you are except me. I haven’t processed you, you aren’t in the system. I won’t mention you’re in town provided you stay out of trouble.”
Their eyes locked once more and a silent battle seemed to be occurring between them.
He is offering me a way out of here, Gabriella thought, but she wondered if there was reason for him wanting to keep her close. Does he think I am a danger and wants to keep an eye on me?
Even if that was so, she was without a car. Purchasing and registering a new one would alert the media vultures as to her whereabouts. She had just agreed to help old man Allister and his wife pay off their house.
I’ve been here for two days and I’ve already gotten myself into a realm of shit. How does trouble manage to follow me everywhere I go?
“You swear you won’t tell anyone I’m here?” she questioned, weighing the options.
Sheriff Lapin’s mouth formed a wry smile. “Who would I tell? This is not New York City, Miss Medina. Most people here don’t know who you are, and if they did, they wouldn’t care.”
Gabriella nodded slowly.
“What about the woman outside?” she pressed, and Cameron sighed in annoyance.
“Listen, I just told you that I will cover your back. If you’re going to ask me stupid questions, just get out of here.”
Somewhat stung by his tone, Gabby rose to her feet. “Sorry,” she muttered, turning for the door. “And thank you.”
The words of gratitude were begrudging, but she could tell the sheriff was easily irritated.
“Where are you going?” he demanded, and Gabriella whirled to face him.
“You just said—”
“I mean, how are you going to get there?” he asked with mustered patience.
She realized she had no idea. He had brought her here, after all. “I can call a cab,” she said. “There are cab companies in this town, right?”
The sheriff snorted.
“There’s one with three cars. You’ll be waiting half an hour. I’ll take you home.”
Gabby was not sure if she wanted to spend another minute with the gruff officer, but she knew refusing would only spite him.
He’s extending an olive branch. I would be dumb not to take it. I’m not out of trouble yet.
“That would be nice,” she said quickly. “Thanks.”
They headed back out into the station. There were two officers sitting at their desks in full uniform as they walked past. Gabriella lowered her head so neither man got a good look at her face.
“What the hell are you two doing back here?” Lapin roared, and Gabby watched with awed amusement as both men sat straight up in their chairs.
“We went on patrol—” the younger of the two began, but the sheriff cut him off instantly.
“And you thought you would come back here and play solitaire?”
They leapt to their feet and shuffled out the door, ahead of Gabriella.
Cameron held out his hand, gesturing for her to wait.
“I bet Jeannie called them back,” he muttered angrily, and again, Gabriella felt a stab of panic in her gut. Lapin watched the men drive from the parking lot before gently pushing her forward. Jeannie craned her neck to look at Gabby, who turned her head away.
“You’re going to give yourself whiplash if you keep that up,” the sheriff commented. “This girl isn’t named Gabrielle whatever.”
“Oh,” Jeannie said, dropping her ample bottom onto her swivel chair in disappointment. “She is the spitting image of that model, I tell you. You ever hear that, hon?”
Gabriella shrugged and hurried to leave the station.
How was she so certain it was me? I barely recognize myself after I am done with make-up some days, she thought. Fleetingly, she realized she did not miss sitting in a make-up chair preparing for a shoot. How long has it been since I have taken two weeks off for anything? Is Victor panicking without his star? Gabby was surprised to think that she didn’t care if her agent was having a nervous breakdown. There is only enough left in me to concern myself with my own psychosis.
This time, Lapin allowed her in the front of the cruiser and punched her address into the GPS.
“Allister and Cathy’s house, huh?” he commented as they drove off.
“Is her name Cathy? I only caught his name.”
Cameron scoffed. “That old chauvinist. I’m surprised he didn’t try to pinch your ass.”
“I’m fairly sure he has arthritis,” Gabriella piped in.
To her surprise, the sheriff burst into laughter, eyeing her appreciatively.
“Lucky for you, or he probably would have tried—even with Cathy standing right there.”
Slowly, Gabby felt herself relax.
He’s not so bad, she told herself, exhaling. She could not stop admiring his long eyelashes and inadvertently charming smile. He is a cop who is trying to give you a break, nothing more. You do not need any more drama in your life. You vowed to come here and keep a low profile and you’ve caused an accident and almost run yourself out of town in forty-eight hours. From now on, you order everything online. No leaving the house.
They pulled onto 56th Street and in front of Gabby’s house. She turned to look at the handsome cop, her palms sweating slightly.
“I… uh, thank you,” she breathed, wiping her hands discretely on her jeans. “I’m sorry I was acting a little crazy back at the accident. My nerves were kind of shot.”
Cameron glanced at her, a stoic expression on his face. He shrugged. “You should really be apologizing to Bob, not me,” he told her.
The comment sent bristles running down her spine. “That bastard ran the light!” she insisted, and to her dismay, she saw disappointment cloud the sheriff’s face.
“Good night, Miss Medina. Try to stay out of trouble. I don’t want to have to see you again under bad circumstances.”
He leaned across her lap and opened the door to send her on her way. Gabriella slipped out of the car, wishing she could have taken back her last words but knowing it was too late.
I will just have to make sure that he doesn’t see me under bad circumstances, she thought, standing hopelessly at the curb as he turned around the corner and disappeared. She could not help but wonder if there was a way she could see him again—under good circumstances.
3
Labored breathing could barely be heard beneath the crunch of leaves. He flew through the dark, drops of saliva slipping from his incisors, dampening his face and cooling his jowls against the autumn air.
Soon, soon, he told himself, but the fire inside him was growing, his gut crying out as he made his way through the thick of trees, toward the depth of the woods.
Abruptly, he paused, his ears prickling as he sensed movement. Something was there, something which also sensed him.
He willed his muscular frame to remain still, his nose inhaling the scent of fresh prey. Then he saw it: the bright, frightened eyes of a deer.
It is just a baby, he thought, but it did not matter—nature did not discriminate when hunger was involved. Their eyes locked and the animal froze, knowing its end was near.
He pounced then, claws extended as his dire wolf frame easily overpowered the helpless beast, tearing ruthlessly at its throat. The deer tried to back away, but her movements were futile, and he felt her take a long, relenting shudder as the life slipped from her body.
He closed his eyes, relishing the taste of her meat in his razor-sharp teeth, licking the blood from the tissue.
A clawed hand wrenched his shoulder and then he was flying backward. A roar of protest erupted from his windpipe and he released a ferocious, feral scream as the opponent dove in
to his fresh kill. Without hesitation, he lunged, digging his stinging sharp talons into the back of the assailant. Wrestling, the two tumbled to the grassy lea, a mashing of fur, teeth, and fury.
“Jesus Christ, Cameron!”
The beast beneath him shifted, losing its lupine shape and becoming a full-grown man. Jasper Brewer stared at him, his mouth agape in shock.
“You!” Cameron hissed, his own Lycan form disappearing as he stood before his assailant. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Jasper cowered, stepping back as he bowed.
“I didn’t know it was you,” he protested, the fear in his eyes clear as water. “It’s all yours.”
Cameron’s rage was not sated, and he drew upon his inferior officer, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing relentlessly.
“I could have you killed,” he choked, blood dripping from his lips. “How dare you interrupt my kill?” Jasper had no answer, hanging his head, and Cameron released him, dropping the older man into a pile on the forest floor.
He turned his attention back to the newly dead deer, his body transitioning in and out as if deciding which form should take control. Irate, he turned back to the groveling underling and scowled.
“You ruined it, Brewer,” he snarled. “I haven’t eaten in days and you ruined it.”
“I swear, Cameron, I didn’t know it was you. You have to know I would never—”
“Just shut the fuck up!” He spun, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He turned as he noticed Jasper lingering, his ire growing. “You don’t think I’m going to let you feast now, do you?”
“No, no!” Jasper croaked, hurrying after the pack leader. “Of course not.”
Cameron watched as Jasper cast a wistful look at the carcass, sighing quietly.
“Did you plant the Monkshood around the Giberson property?”
“Yeah, boss,” Brewer replied, hurrying to keep with Cameron’s stride. “Well, I had Collins do it—especially around the chicken coop.”
“Which one of you assholes keeps killing her chickens?” Cameron demanded as they stole away in the inky blackness, their night vision allowing them easy passage. It was well past eleven o’clock, and Great Falls and most of its residents were asleep.