His to Claim

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His to Claim Page 5

by Paris Brandon


  “He ran—”

  “No, he didn’t. Finn Somers brought word they’d been betrayed, and, apparently, your father sent word to run. Instead, my father ordered Finn to take me to safety then headed for their meeting place, but he was too late. Your dad had been killed before he could formally challenge Magnum. Magnum ordered my father maimed as a warning to anyone else who thought about challenging him. You know I’m telling the truth, I can see it in your face. Think about it. Magnum didn’t go after cowards. He sent his men after anyone who might threaten him.”

  “That doesn’t excuse—”

  “No, it doesn’t excuse Dad from shoving your mate, but, believe it or not, he’s sorry about what happened with Luna. He’s spent twelve years being ashamed for not reaching your father in time. He let his shame eat away at him until he couldn’t send for me because he didn’t want me to see the bitter, useless man he’d become. He keeps to himself because he doesn’t want Luna to be afraid.”

  Gunnar jerked his head in J.D.’s direction. “Do you believe him?”

  She nodded. “Ray’s all snarl and no bite. He hates himself more than he hates anyone else, but we’re working on it.” She edged closer to J.D, and her wolf whined insistently, but Bree stood firm. Gunnar still seemed to be sizing up the situation, and she didn’t want to escalate the tension.

  His scowl slowly ebbed to a sneer, and Bree wondered if the weight of J.D.’s words were taking their toll. Letting go of dogged beliefs sometimes took more than a little faith.

  “Maybe, but I’m not taking any chances. You keep him away from Luna. And you,” he said, pinning Bree with an irritated glance, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Did she? She’d told her mother she wanted freedom, then turned around and panted after J.D. Having sex didn’t mean they’d stay together. Wolves had voracious appetites when it came to pleasure.

  Possibly because they never knew what tomorrow might bring, and grabbing what they wanted, when they wanted, seemed like a good idea. Especially after living such a long time under a madman’s rule.

  Gunnar finally shook his head as if disgusted by them both and slammed out the door with about as much finesse as he’d entered. She’d probably need to check the hinges.

  J.D. grinned from ear to ear. “I think I won him over with the crack about Magnum not going after cowards.”

  “I think you hear what you want to hear.”

  “I didn’t hear you promising to stay away from me.”

  “I don’t like being told what to do. I’m not going to fall in line and do what Gunnar or anyone else wants to make them happy.”

  “What about what makes you happy?”

  “I’m doing what makes me happy, or haven’t you noticed all those satisfied moans I make while we’re having sex?” The statement sounded a little flippant, even to her ears, but J.D. kept grinning.

  “I didn’t think Gunnar would give up so easily.”

  “Gunnar’s not stupid. He’s smart enough not to demand. Instead, he tried to make you feel as if you’d fallen down on the job of guarding Ray. Have you talked to Drew yet, about what your father told you?”

  His grin stayed in place. “I got distracted by a sexy wolf with her fingers in her pussy.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “It’s a perfectly legitimate excuse.” He leaned over, and nuzzled the side of her neck a moment before he licked a spot behind her ear, and she shivered. “But I probably should tell him…soon.”

  She turned and wrapped her arms around his waist. “How soon?”

  “That depends on you. Do you want to hear me sing, or shall I make you moan?”

  Chapter Seven

  For the tenth time in as many minutes, J.D. reminded himself Drew Tao had defeated Magnum to become the new alpha and rescue the Tao pack from his father’s madness. Where Magnum had ruled through fear and intimidation, a quiet strength emanated from the man sitting behind the battered desk. It didn’t necessarily make him reasonable.

  “Did you call me home to help my father or the pack?”

  “Your father is part of the pack, and so are you.”

  “Which is something everyone seems to have conveniently forgotten until now, but my father and I are dealing with it. I’m grateful you let me know he’s still alive, but I’ll tell you the same thing I told Gunnar. My father isn’t a threat to anyone in this pack, and he isn’t a coward. He and Gunnar’s father were betrayed, and, no, I don’t know by who, and neither does he. I don’t think he realized how angry and bitter he’d become until Luna came home. He’s ashamed of what happened.”

  “Where did you get the idea anyone thought your father was a coward?”

  “Gunnar thinks he is, and the other night, at The Den, Sid Riggs was telling anyone who’d listen my father is a threat to the Redmond women. He thought I needed to be warned about what might happen if he went near any of them. Nobody offered a different opinion.”

  “Twelve years is a long time, J.D. I’m not trying to make excuses, but most of the people in the bar might have been kids when all of this happened. Until Ray’s run-in with Luna in the convenience store, I don’t think anyone here remembered him. We’ve all been too busy trying to rebuild the pack to wonder what happened the night your father lost his hand.”

  “Now you know. He isn’t a threat, and he isn’t alone anymore.”

  “You’ve proved your point. I’d ask you how you’re settling in, but I have it on good authority Bree Redmond might figure into your decision.”

  Adrenaline spiked J.D.’s veins as his protective nature reared up inside him. If Drew was against their mating, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. Bree was his mate, and if it came down to it, he’d take her and leave Los Lobos. His wolf whined—challenging the alpha about Bree would be foolish, especially when he didn’t know where the alpha stood on the subject. Somehow, he managed to keep his voice level. “Do you have a problem with us being together?”

  “You and Bree are adults, and you get to make your own choices. I won’t interfere.”

  Relief poured through him, and his wolf howled. “Would you mind passing the information on to Gunnar. I’d rather we weren’t at each other’s throats while I’m trying to convince Bree she can’t live without me.”

  “Does she have a problem with Ray?”

  “She bakes him apple pies. He buys her gingersnaps. I think he may actually be in the plus column when it comes to reasons Bree might find me an attractive mate.”

  Drew actually looked as if he came close to cracking a smile. “It might help if you try and socialize Ray. He needs to realize he’s part of the pack, and they need to see him as part of a family. People need to remember his bravery and his strength. Not many would send a child away to keep him safe, or stand up against unsurmountable odds.”

  “I had to threaten to leave before he’d come clean about what happened. He still thinks he somehow failed everyone, and he doesn’t want to scare Luna, ever again.”

  “Luna is stronger than most people think, and she might be more willing than anyone else to give Ray a fair shake. There were plenty of people who remembered the evil her father perpetrated in my father’s name and lots of whispers and finger-pointing when she came home.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise you anything. Can I take him out of here if he doesn’t want to be part of the pack?”

  Drew frowned. “Has he told you he wanted to leave?”

  “No, but I want him to have the option.”

  “Each member of the Tao pack is important, J.D. Your father has spent twelve years as a recluse, and resuming a place in the pack might take time. I hope you can convince him leaving isn’t necessary.”

  ***

  Bree’s razor rasped against the gray stubble decorating Ray Decker’s strong jaw. He’d stopped fidgeting after she finished cutting his hair and edged around his nape with the trimmer. She tipped his chin up and scraped over
his throat. The man’s whiskers were like everything else about him, wiry and tough, but, with the right amount of coaxing, they’d softened.

  Extra lanolin shave cream had worked for one, and leftover brownies had managed the rest.

  Half a cup of cold coffee and a chipped plate he’d practically licked clean sat catty-corner to Ray’s good hand. He lowered his chin and let her wipe his face with a clean towel.

  Groomed and wearing a borrowed pair of his son’s faded jeans along with a black T-shirt, Ray no longer resembled a crazy recluse waiting for an excuse to snap. After his recent grooming, he appeared quite handsome, sort of lean and weathered. Not tired and anxious.

  J.D. had seemed a little more relaxed also and had grabbed her notebook full of plans for the addition to her workshop. He’d kissed her soundly then gone off to take measurements, and make a materials list while she did her magic with her Aunt Edie’s old haircutting kit.

  She marveled at the stark resemblance between Ray and J.D., but something else suddenly occurred to her. If someone else hadn’t been cutting his hair for the past twelve years, it would have been much longer.

  “Is J.D. threatening to leave the only reason you told him what happened the night you lost your hand?”

  “Do you get asked all sorts of questions when you get your hair cut?” he groused.

  “I usually respond to polite inquiries, especially when they have to do with my family. Now, if I had to guess, it would take about a year for your hair to grow to your shoulders. I’ve been housesitting for Edie about the same amount of time. She’s always been a free-spirit, and I didn’t wonder much about her sudden desire to travel, but now I’m not sure. She helped you, didn’t she?”

  A shadow of something—if she had to put a name to it, he would have said grief—pinched Ray’s rugged features. “I’m moon-dependent and couldn’t shift for two weeks. She found and hid me until I could heal. I tried to make her leave me alone. I warned her about what might happen if Magnum found out she’d helped me, but she wouldn’t budge, and I wasn’t in any shape to argue. I guess when Magnum discovered I didn’t die; he decided to let me serve as a horrible example of what could happen to anyone who challenged his authority.”

  “She’s watched out for you all this time?”

  “Until the incident with Luna, she checked on me, hunted with me.” His voice softened and caught, as if the memory pained him. “She told me I needed to sort out my anger before it destroyed me, but I couldn’t seem to let it go. I’d never yelled at her before, not even when the pain got so bad I wanted to die.”

  “Before Edie left, she asked me to check on you, and make sure you were taking care of yourself. She told me you’d probably resist any help, but I should keep trying because you deserved to be happy. The more I think about it, the more I don’t believe neighborly concern was her only motive.”

  “Edie deserves someone without so many ghosts.” Regret tinged his words.

  “We all have ghosts, Ray, but, at some point, we need to let them rest in peace, even those as bad as Luna’s father, and Magnum. If you don’t, you’re giving them control of your life.”

  “You sound like Edie.”

  “Where do you think I learned it?”

  She drew the towel away from his shoulders and wiped his neck, smiling at the way he scrunched his face when she flicked a few snipped hairs from his cheeks. He clearly didn’t mind being fussed over, and they’d come a long way since the angry screaming incident on the front porch a few days ago.

  “There you go, handsome as ever.” She lifted his chin with a forefinger and surveyed her work.

  Ray sighed and shook his head. “Are all of the women in your family so pushy?”

  “No, you got lucky and ended up with the two busybodies.”

  “Thank you.” It didn’t matter if he thanked her for the haircut, or the food, or being stubborn. She didn’t mind as long as he kept inching his way back into the world and the pack.

  The ghosts would eventually fade as he faced and relegated them to the past. Maybe she should take her own advice.

  She’d spent a lot of time convincing herself she controlled her own destiny by opposing what her family wanted. She’d forgotten she had the freedom to choose to let go of the past and move forward, too.

  Of course, moving forward would mean including the whistling man approaching the house. Clutching a notebook, a grin lighting his sun-bronzed face, J.D. let the screen door slam behind him and wiped his dusty boots on her entry rug.

  “The good news is I think I can keep your costs at a minimum if I can find what you need for the room addition and new kiln locally.”

  “You should go through my workshop before you start buying anything. I probably have any tool you’d need and some old hardware.”

  Ray sounded as if he might be choking. From the flash of pain his father had quickly disguised, J.D. had realized his father’s distress, also.

  “We should probably go through it together. You might have a few ideas on how best to do this since you were the original builder.”

  “I’d love for you to have some input,” Bree added.

  “I think I might be able to manage a few opinions.” Ray straightened in the chair, but Bree noticed he closed his good hand over the stump he held beneath the table. J.D.’s gaze shifted between her and his father.

  “Have you ever thought about a prosthetic?”

  “I told you I learned to make do,” he snapped.

  “There’s a time to make-do, Dad, and a time to think about what you want. I think the time has come. I always took for granted one day I’d be helping you build whatever we could dream up. I’d still like to make the dream a reality. I’d like to one day be able to pass on what you’ve taught me.”

  Bringing both arms from beneath the table, Ray laid them flat before running his fingers over the scarred stump. “I dreamed about us working together, too. I guess you’d best show me your plans. I won’t be much help, otherwise.”

  “You’ll think about the prosthetic?”

  Ray shrugged. “I guess a hook could be helpful.”

  Chapter Eight

  J.D. figured a trip to the grocery store might ease his father back into the familiarity of pack life more gently than a beer at The Den. He’d already made a couple of trips to the Bread and Butter and found it open and friendly, and surprisingly well stocked for such a small place. Hell, he’d make the jaunt to town for the meat counter alone. J.D. found a beef tenderloin big enough for two and made a mental note to pick up shallots if he could find them, a bottle of capers, a lemon, and a carton of eggs.

  He could make a decent steak tartare. It didn’t take much time to mince a lean cut of beef and arrange the rest of the ingredients, which should include fancy crackers or toasted baguette crisps.

  The snack would provide them with energy for the run he and Bree had planned. As long as he could refrain from pressuring her into a claiming she didn’t seem ready for, he should be okay. She had enough people making demands, and he’d rather not be added to the list.

  A harried young mother with a set of young twins dressed in identical overalls nodded at them as she darted for one of the boys climbing a shelf to obtain his preferred cereal, while his brother peeked around the wrong corner and blew his job as lookout. Apparently used to their antics, she lifted the one still attached to a box of granola and scooped the other up with the fluid movement of one who practiced the art of multi-tasking on a regular basis.

  Beside him, Ray chuckled, and the tension knotting J.D.’s shoulders relaxed a bit. He had a feeling his father had only come because he knew Drew had requested he mingle with the pack, but he hadn’t been happy about it.

  Everyone had been polite, but they both seemed to be waiting for someone to remember the incident last fall when his father had confronted Luna Sinclair after she’d returned.

  His dad reached for a can of generic coffee as another man, the size
of a small mountain, stepped into the aisle and practically plowed into him.

  “Oh, sorry. I should pay attention to where I—” The man stared.

  A few seconds passed before his dad sketched a clipped nod in the man’s direction. “Hello, Ike.”

  “Hello, Ray. It’s been a while.”

  “How are Grace and little Ike?” His father placed the coffee in their basket. The moment seemed charged with something electric and painful.

  The guy squared his considerable shoulders. “Grace is…Grace, and little Ike isn’t so little anymore.” He leaned forward as if he couldn’t quite believe what he saw. “J.D.?”

  “Hello, Mr. Kiel. It’s been a long time.”

  “Yes, it has.” He flipped his attention to Ray and the man’s Adam’s apple seemed to be doing a jig. “I didn’t know you were still around. I heard about what happened…with Magnum. I always felt bad I didn’t do anything to help.”

  “You would have made your family a target, and he didn’t need any more of those. It’s over and done. Best we all move on,” Ray said.

  An irritated woman, practically as large as Ike, with long blonde hair and an angry gaze, wheeled an overflowing shopping basket toward them. “How long does it take to grab a can of coffee?” Her gaze landed on Ray, and she opened her mouth, but his dad beat her to the punch.

  “Hello, Grace. Ike and I were just catching up. You remember my son, J.D.”

  His dad’s explanation didn’t seem to appease her ire, and she kept a white-knuckled grip on the handle of her cart. “I’d heard he was keeping an eye on things.”

  The woman’s attitude set J.D.’s teeth on edge. “I’m staying with my dad. He hasn’t had much help these past twelve years.”

  Grace Kiel flushed bright red to the roots of her pale hair but managed a scowl in answer to her husband’s glare.

  His father shook his head, and the smile he’d been attempting dimmed. “I didn’t ask for help, and I didn’t expect any. I’ve told Ike we all need to let the past die. For the record, Grace, I don’t blame anyone for protecting their family. We all did what we had to do to survive.”

 

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