ROMANCE: PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Coveted by the Werewolves (Paranormal MMF Bisexual Menage Romance) (New Adult Shifter Romance Short Stories)

by Hawke, Jessa

Douglass was struggling with the man, who had to be Zeke. Zeke was dodging most of his hits, but he was getting tired; he was shorter and not as strong, and relying on his speed to help him win was a bad strategy. It was starting to show.

  "Maybe I should just kill you for trying to take my daughter from me," The woman sneered. She walked forward and pressed the barrel of her gun to Charlotte's forehead, smiling. "you think you're a better mother than me? Think you can make my daughter stop loving me?" She was screaming now. "Drop your gun!

  Charlotte dropped her rifle and slid it away from her. It landed next to Jane's limp body. Zeke took notice of this and sprang to the side, grabbing the rifle and rolling back to his feet in one swift motion.

  "Dammit!" Douglass yelled, and Charlotte's heart sank. He was right. He shouldn't have brought her into this; now they were going to die because of her.

  Zeke was smiling, revealing a mouth full of crooked yellow teeth. "Not gon' give you a chance to walk away this time, boy," he growled in a gravelly baritone. "Make sure your legs are just so much spaghetti." He cocked it, and pointed the rifle at Douglass' head. Douglass closed his eyes and sank to his knees.

  "Charlotte, if they let you go, please try to get a message to Jane. Tell her I love her. And I'm sorry."

  Charlotte was shaking like a leaf, adrenaline coursing through a bod with nowhere to go. "No! Please, don't do this, just leave us alone! Just go!" She ran in front of Douglass, and Zeke took a step back in surprise before remembering he was holding the gun.

  "I'll do ya too, girly," he said, amused. "Just stay still. One bullet for the both of ya." He smiled wide and raised the rifle again. Charlotte moved forward as his finger squeezed the trigger---

  ---and the hammer struck nothing but air.

  Zeke' face filled with comic surprise a moment before Charlotte leapt forward and drove her forehead into the man's nose, colliding with him and sending him sailing backwards to land on his back. Blood leaked from the mashed mass of bones of cartilage on his face and he twitched a few times, then was still.

  Douglass was moving at the same time, and had wrested the gun from his mother's grip. He turned the gun on her as she fled, and pulled the trigger over and over. The gun clicked dryly, but Douglass kept trying, keeping the barrel trained on his mother as she fled through the woods behind his home.

  Charlotte's veins were filled with ice water. She watched him, uncertain of how to react to his sudden surge of violence. Douglass lowered the gun, his eyes empty and unreadable. He walked over to Zeke and pressed two fingers to his neck. Satisfied, he moved to Jane, checking her pulse and then moving her head to his lap. Then he looked up at Charlotte, his eyes thawing to reveal confusion, pain, and wonder.

  "You saved me," he said.

  Charlotte rushed to him as he dissolved into tears, cradling his face in her hands as he'd done to hers. It seemed like years before. "How will your patients get along without a doctor?"

  He laughed, sounding tired and on the edge of hysteria, then grabbed her and kissed her roughly. He pulled her head against his, breathing heavily as his lips massaged hers into opening, and he deepened his kiss.

  There was a groan, and they broke apart to see Jane peering up at them groggily. She touched her head gingerly, then looked at the two of them, hand in hand. She offered them a slow, broad smile. Then she spoke.

  "About time."

  Jane's mother didn't try to turn up, especially after Zeke was picked up by the sheriff. He'd been accused of several assaults and robberies in town, and even though some of them were definitely not committed by him, the town respected Douglass and Charlotte's assurances that he'd done much worse. They put him in the county jail, and arranged to send him to a prison. He seemed to have suffered some brain damage during the fight, which Charlotte wasn't sorry for.

  Two months after, Douglass shyly proposed to Charlotte over a dinner he asked Jane to help him plan. Jane was as excited as he was, and Charlotte tearfully accepted. They were married in the nearest large town, and her parents took the train from Virginia Beach all the way to California. They oohed and aahed over Jane, accepting the odd arrangement warmly and with genuine affection. Charlotte's mother was overjoyed that she had a sort of surrogate grandchild, and Jane warmed to the older woman's affections.

  Charlotte convinced him to let her return to school---he was apprehensive about the course load for nurse training, but she scolded him for underestimating her.

  "Who saved your life, eh?" she would tease.

  "Truthfully, I just want more of you to myself," he would mutter, and cover her face in kisses. "Besides, I want you to have time for Jane. Once she's grown, she'll probably want to leave the nest." Douglass admitted this last sadly one day after they'd returned from their honeymoon.

  "Then we'll start populating the nest," Charlotte said casually. Douglass stopped kissing her and stepped back.

  "Really?" He asked. "You...want children with me?" His eyes were careful, but Charlotte could see the shine of excitement.

  "Maybe a child," Charlotte said quickly. "One."

  His face broke into a grin that lifted her heart to the sky. "I love you," he whispered before kissing her softly.

  "I love you too," said Charlotte.

  There was a playful gagging sound from the kitchen, and they both laughed. "I love you too!" Charlotte called, and Jane squealed from the other room. She came tearing around the corner with hands sticky from flour after making cookies. Douglass watched her leap into Charlotte's embrace with warm eyes and a secretive smile. Charlotte wondered what he was thinking, then dismissed the thought. She didn't need to wonder. She knew.

  THE END

  The Resistant Bride

  Chapter 1

  Walking behind her father, Isabel wanted nothing more than to sit in the carriage and head home. Her boot heels thumped on the wooden boards of the gas lit finance department, alerting all the accounting clerks to her presence. She yawned into her gloved hand and thought it was evidence that it had been a long day.

  Learning the ways of her father’s business was proving harder than she thought.

  Leaving the dimness of the shipping office, Isabel walked out into the bright summer evening. The busy street hustled and bustled under the evening sun. The road was amass with horses pulling carts with the goods destined for the docks while the pavements were occupied with a mix of noisy street sellers and top hated city workers.

  Isabel stepped into the horse drawn carriage before slumping onto the soft cushioned leather bench seat. Leaving the door open, she thought, “Looks like summer has finally arrived.”

  Waiting for her father who stood talking to the driver, she thought the heat felt repressive as she waved the hand-carved whale bone fan franticly. “Get me home quick, Father. I need the coolness of the garden.” Her eyebrows raised an inch as Albert hesitated with only one foot planted inside the carriage floor. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think I left the safe open.”

  “I’m pretty sure you locked it shut.”

  Albert stepped back onto the cobbled road. “I can’t be sure... I must go back.”

  “Father!”

  “I know... it’s amateur. A mistake an apprentice wouldn’t even make.”

  Isabel let out a sigh. “You’d be sacked if you weren’t the owner.” She then rested her head on the back rest. “Go on... but please hurry up.”

  ~

  The heat seemed to rise while Isabel sat alone in the carriage. Finding the temperature unbearable she stood from her seat before climbing out of the open door onto the street. She walked into the shadow of the grand sandstone shipping office while doing her best to cool herself with the fan. Her eyes soon set on the young carriage driver. “You boy!” Isabel noted the panic on the young man’s face. “Yes you, the driver. What is your name?”

  “Me Ma’am?”

  “Memam? Is that name from the orient?”Isabel grinned, but noticed that the driver sat rigid on his seat while staring directly ahead
. “You don’t look much like a Chinaman to me.”

  “My...My name is Edward, Ma’am.”

  “No need to whisper like a mouse. I won’t bite.”

  “I mean not to whisper.”

  Despite being early evening, Isabel thought that the sun had lost none of its strength. “Not scared of the sun, Edward? You must be cooking up there?”

  “No.”

  “And why not? Sit up there any longer and you’ll look like you’re from the colonies.”

  Edward sniggered before sneaking a quick glance at Isabel. “I like the sun...In fact I like to make the most of it, seeing that it only makes half a dozen appearances a year.”

  “So he speaks... I was beginning to fear that my driver was a mute. Where are you from?”

  “Lancashire born and bred. I was born in the village of Skipton.”

  “Skipton?” Isabel stepped out from the shade, so she could cross Edward’s line of sight. She felt a guilty pleasure burn deep inside while she played with her prey. “Can’t say I’ve been there... Eddie.”

  “My family moved to Liverpool to work in your father’s shipping company. He was a stoker and she was typist on the third floor of the office.”

  “What was her name?”

  “Maggie Picton. She retired three years ago.”

  “Oh.” Isabel stared at the two coal coloured carthorses that were rigged up to the highly polished black carriage. “The horses... are they yours?”

  “As much as I would love to say they were mine, they’re not.”Edward felt his panic abating while his eyes devoured Isabel’s beauty. “They’re your father’s, I’m just lucky enough to care for them.”

  “They’re my father’s? Really? Shows you how much I know.”

  “You don’t ride?”

  Isabel scoffed, “Never.”

  “I thought all girls like horses.”

  Isabel took a sideward step to keep a safe distance from one of the horses as it took an interest in her purse. “They scare me... plus they smell.”

  “Smell... you want to smell some of the dockers, Ma’am.”

  “I would rather not. Thank you very much.” Isabel eyes locked on to Edward’s. “Tell me... are you married?”

  “Me? No.”

  Isabel sauntered to the side of the carriage so her eyes were level with Edward’s bent knee. “And why not?”

  “Should I be?”

  “You’re twenty...”

  Edward peered down towards Isabel, but quickly snapped his head back at the hint of her cleavage. “Fi... five. I’m twenty five.”

  “Twenty five. Shouldn’t you have at least one child by now? I mean, that’s how you commoners behave, is it not? Father tells me you lot breed like rabbits.”

  “Rabbits? Maybe some do.”

  “You seem offended? I do speak too much sometimes.”

  Edward did his best to sound convincing. “No... I would have one child, maybe. If I had been lucky to have found love, that is.”

  “Why haven’t you found the right woman?”

  “You do like asking questions.”

  Isabel shrugged her shoulders. “I’m intrigued... and truth be told, filling time.”

  “As a young man, I thought I had found someone. But she immigrated with her parents to America.”

  “America? Lucky woman. I always wanted to go. Father has visited for business on several occasions. In fact he’s promised to take me on his next crossing.”

  Edward breathed a sigh. “I wish I went with her. In many ways it’s my biggest regret.” He then hung his head while his mind dragged up memories he had tried to forget. “But I didn’t have the money at the time.”

  “It must be terrible being poor.”

  “It’s not so bad. It would be nice to be rich...of course. But God blessed us with what we have. So I think it’s best to smile our way through each day the best we can.”

  Isabel witnessed Edward’s wide smile causing her to chuckle. “You do have a nice set of teeth.”

  “Really?”

  “One must not be well acquainted with sugar.”

  “Sugar... I’d be lucky. I can count using the fingers on one hand how many times I’ve tasted it.”

  Isabel scoffed, “Keep away from it. It’s more addictive than bad men.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I really have to stop talking to strangers.”

  “You asked about my love life... can I be bold enough to ask you about yours?”

  “I...” Isabel turned as her father stepped out from the door of the shipping office. She then faced Edward and smiled. “We will talk again sometime. Goodbye... Mr Eddie.”

  Chapter 2

  Edward licked his lips in anticipation as he walked along the dark streets towards his much loved Golden Hind inn. As always, a group of children were sat on the doorstep playing ollies. Edward brushed the children aside with his dirt covered boots before stepping over the threshold of doorway. He entered a room thick with the smell of ale and tobacco and soon spotted his flat cap wearing friend. “Duffy the docker.”

  “Edward the horse fucker... What’s took yeh?”

  Edward slapped Duffy on the back of his well worn donkey jacket. “Half cabbaged already, Pal?”

  “Of course I’m cabbaged. You had me waiting like a wife.”

  “Anyway, you’ll never guess who I was talking to, Duffy.”

  “Queen Victoria?”

  “Near enough.”

  Edward signalled towards the barman for a pint before sitting on a stool next to Duffy. “The boss’s daughter.”

  “The foreman’s? Nothing special about her... right little wench, she is. Passes herself around like a tray of hot cakes.”

  “No, not Jezzer. I mean the big boss. Albert Crompton’s daughter.”

  “Mr Crompton’s daughter..?” Duffy shook his head disbelievingly. “Whatever. Why would she talk to a bottom feeder like you?”

  “Bottom feeder? I should take you outside and give you a once over with my fists. ”

  “Sorry... I guess I’ve had a pint too many. My tongue quickly marches while my brain crawls like a drunkard in the night. ”

  “Better slow down before you go home, then. You don’t want to get a load of abuse from Marg.”

  Duffy slipped his hand inside his jacket, and then lifted out a tin of tobacco. “Margret knows to keep out of my way when I get home after a skin full.”

  “I thought you told me you stopped roughing her up since your first child.”

  Duffy picked up his clay pipe from the damp surface of the bar. “I’ve not laid an angry hand on her for a good while.” He then stuffed the fresh tobacco into his clay pipe. “I just mean rough her good in proper between the bed sheets.”

  “Christ, Duffy. To think you recently became a lay preacher.”

  “We’re all water boilers.”

  “Here we go, another Duffy-ism.”

  With the pipe between his lips, Duffy struck a match. “When we come to the boil, we have to let off steam.” He then drew on the pipe while he ignited the tobacco. “If not, the pressure becomes too much, and we explode.”

  “You must be under a lot of pressure then, because you’ve been in more scraps than Napoleon.”

  “Married with children.”

  “The kids are outside.”

  Duffy dragged back on his pipe. “Hopefully they’ll get cold and go home” He then exhaled a thick cloud. “So? Crompton’s daughter. What did she say to you..?”

  “Erm... well.”

  “If you say she just asked you to open the door... I’ll never share a pint with you again.”

  Edward couldn’t hide his excitement. He leaned towards Duffy who sat in a cloud of smoke. “She talked to me for a good five minutes.”

  “Fuck off. Your mouth spews more manure than one of your horses.”

  “It’s the truth. Hey, she’s a right little minx too.”

  “Minx?” Duffy pulled the pipe from his mouth then sipped on his p
int of ale. “I suppose you took her to the bushes and rattled her under the full moon until daybreak.”

  “I didn’t... I like my job. Very much doubt that Mr Crompton would take too kindly to finding me on top of his daughter. ”

  “So? Go on... what did she have to say in these five minutes of yours?”

  “She says I have a nice set of teeth.”

  “Well...”Duffy inspected Edward’s teeth while his friend smiled. “Well... They’re better than rest of your face.”

  “She asked me if I was married too.”

  “Did she?”

  “I’m not lying. Plus, listen to this.” Edwards glanced about to the bar to make sure none of the dwellers were eavesdropping. “She calls me Eddie. No one calls me Eddie.”

  “I call you Eddie. Doesn’t mean I want you to bend me over the bar and pull down your breaches.”

  “Bloody hell Duffy. I mean, no lass calls me Eddie. It’s always Edward. Mr Picton or...”

  “Bloody Idiot.”

  “Yes, that too.”

  Duffy struck a match then relit the tobacco which had burned itself out. “What she like then?” Coz, if her father is anything to go by, she would be fat, bald and tighter than a Jew’s pocket.”

  “She’s well fed, alright. But not fat. Just... you can just tell she’s always first to the dinner table.”

  “Nice. So got a bosom, then?”

  “Too right.” Edward cupped his hands down by his waist. “Packs a good and proper arse n’all.”

  “Anyway, keep dreaming. The only thing you’ll be riding, Son... is those damn horses of yours.”

  “I know... but I’ve got a dirty imagination to keep me company.”

  “Aye, at least it gives you someone else to think about. I mean. You’ve been boring me to death about bloody Katherine, since she jumped ship to America... seven years ago.”

  Edward crossed his arms on the bar, and then sunk his head. “I know... I know.”

  “Has she still not replied to your letter?”

  “Not received a letter in two years and a hundred and fourteen days. Not that I’m counting.”

  Duffy expelled thick smoke through his nostrils as if he was a mystical dragon. “Definitely married... probably dropped a kid or two now.”