Wolf’s Heart

by Ruelle Channing

  Oh, hey, Peaches, it’s Carlee. Can you stop trying to make the world a better place and come pick me up? I had this boyfriend who just tried to kill me and I could use a lift.

  No, she wouldn’t be calling Ryden. She hated to think it, but she had to consider that he could be involved. G could have been threatening Ryden in order to cover up his involvement just in case she ran to him. The Bureau knows everyone, everything. At least Ryden’s name brought his face to mind and gave her a pretty picture to think about for a little while, and memories of happier times, even if the ending was one that sucked rotten eggs. Of course, there were always strangers. Relying on strangers was something she could consider. But, then again, not seeing the other face in the hospital room made that dicey. Call the desk clerk? She could hear the conversation.

  Would you mind helping me? I seem to be bleeding to death in one of your rooms.

  The clerk’s first call would be to the police and that she didn’t need. All she had was herself as she lay in bed, trying to shut off her brain. She didn’t like pain. Wimpy? Sissy? Hell freakin’ yes. She didn’t even donate blood except for Kyle. She’d had enough needles to last a lifetime. She wanted something to numb her, to just knock her out and make it all go away. Too quickly she realized that sometimes you genuinely did have to be careful what you wished for.

  She was lying in bed, afraid to move after finding a semi comfy spot. Inhaling, she caught the scent of G’s Bvlgari cologne. It was like his trademark, and some days he seemed to bathe in it.

  Inhaling again, he leaned down and kissed her. Pulling her up, her legs wrapped around his waist and as he broke the kiss. Looking into G’s eyes, there was a glint just before he laid her down on the ground and began stomping her.

  Sitting up in the bed, Carlee tried to scream, but nothing would come out. She was too busy just trying to breathe and praying she didn’t blow chunks. Rocking back and forth and clutching the pillow, her eyes darted around the room for G. Letting out a deep sigh of relief she found no one standing there.

  It was just a dream, Carlee, just a dream. He isn’t here, he couldn’t get here that fast. Or could he?

  At first all she could hear was the beating of her own heart pounding in her head, but as it slowed she felt her resolve chip away with each beat.

  “This can’t be happening.” There were voices in the hall, voices speaking Greek, two sets of footsteps.

  Even though G had been born in the US, he had told her how his parents had insisted he use their native tongue, learning only a little English until it was time to go to school. She briefly remembered how she thought listening to him speak to her in Greek was the sexiest thing she had ever heard. Hearing it now was terrifying. Why was he coming back? Had his orders changed? Was he planning on finishing her off this time? She knew she was most likely going to die but refused to make it easy. A few moments ago, she was unable to move due to the pain. Fear and adrenalin can do extraordinary things. Rolling off the side of the bed to the floor, she grabbed her bag and the pillow. She watched as the door knob slowly turned. She only had one chance and that was out the back.

  Fighting tears, exhaustion, hysteria and probably a few medical conditions she didn’t want to think about, she quietly and quickly opened the sliding door to the balcony. Stepping outside into the cold night air, she stood off to the side. She could hear the knocks on the door inside.

  “Ms. O’Shannon, complimentary room service for your first night’s stay.”

  She didn’t bother to answer that; she didn’t want what they were delivering. She struggled to keep a grip on reality. Clearing her throat, she called back through the room.

  “Just a sec, I’m naked with a pizza, I mean naked eating a pizza.”

  It wasn’t perfect, but was all she could think of at the time. Quietly sliding the door closed, she looked down and was nearly brought to tears. She was two floors up and with nothing but asphalt below and a couple of bushes that definitely would not break her fall.

  Crying seemed to be her thing the last twenty-four hours. There was no way she could jump, it was too far. Breaking legs and busting open her incision would just make her an easier target. Climbing? No way with this railroad line of staples in her abdomen. Leaning back against the wall and stepping over the side of the railing, she looked to the next balcony. There was a decision to make. She could stand there and die, or she could try to take the large step to the next balcony. If she fell, it was what it was supposed to be.

  Looking out across the parking lot, she watched as bright headlights illuminated the night. She held on tight to the rail as she watched the car barreling into the parking lot. This was so not how she imagined going out. Her idea of going out in a blaze of glory would have been an aneurysm during hot monkey sex, definitely not while crying on a balcony.

  Chapter Ten

  Ryden pulled up at the hotel where Carlee had checked in and hoped she was still there. It was getting late and the sun had set. As he pulled into the parking lot, he looked around, keeping a watchful eye out for trouble. This wasn’t the worst hotel he’d seen; there had to have been better options, but he suspected she was in no shape to be choosy, and that set his nerves on edge. It could use fresh paint and from what he could see, the pool was more of a has been than not. A few run down houses were across the street complete with old sofas for front porch furniture and empty beer and soft drink cans scattered around yards that had long since seen better days. He expected the worst and hoped for the best as he pulled his Beretta out from under the seat. Ejecting the clip, he made sure it had a full fifteen rounds, and he made sure to pocket an extra clip. He slipped the gun into the back of his jeans and pulled the tail of his shirt down to cover it, before he walked into the hotel lobby.

  The inside of the place didn’t look any better than the outside and smelled like stale cigarettes. The guy behind the desk sat puffing away with a full ashtray sitting beside him. He barely gave the newcomer a passing glance as he yelled obscenities at the TV while two teams went at it on the basketball court.

  “Excuse me, I’m looking for someone.”

  The very bored clerk looked over his shoulder and gave Ryden an offhand nod, then turned back to his game. “Yeah, who’s that?” He took another drag from his cigarette and flicked the ashes, most of them landing everywhere but the ashtray.

  “Her name’s Carlee O’Shannon, and if you don’t mind, I’m in a hurry. She checked in here earlier today.” Ryden stood waiting for some help from the guy, who was obviously more interested in the game he was watching than actually offering any customer service. Taking another drag from his smoke, the guy turned around with a disgusted look on his face, his yellowed teeth showing under the blinking fluorescent lights.

  “What is it with this chick? I just had someone else ask about her not ten minutes ago. If she’s using this place to pick up clients, I’m calling the cops!”

  Ryden’s stomach did a flip flop. “What room is she in?” The urgency in his voice made the clerk look up again. He must have seen murder in Ryden’s eyes because he jumped up and took a step back. When his sidearm came out, the other man began to stammer and ended up against the wall. “She’s in two-fourteen, s-second floor.”

  “Is there a back way in?”

  Mr. Nicotine shook his head. “Um, no, there’s just a balcony. N-no steps.”

  Ryden was out the back and made his way across the pool area, jumping fences as he looked for her room. He prayed luck was with them both. She was in trouble, and his wolf was on edge.

  As Ryden moved along the back of the hotel, he put his nose to the air. He knew her scent as well as his own. Just then, the wind shifted, and he caught her scent along with the same cologne from her apartment. His hackles rose as he noticed the change in her scent. He could sense her fear and pain. The wolf in him was growling at the thought she might be injured. The only thing Ryden wanted at that moment was to get her out of there. He tucked his gun back in the waistband of his jeans and leap
t up to the second floor, not caring if anyone saw him in the waning light. Carlee was hurt and in danger. That was all Ryden cared about. She jumped when she saw him, and he quickly shushed her.

  “Easy, Carlee. It’s Ryden. I’m gonna get you out of here, Buttercup.” He could smell her fear and anger boiled in him. That anger nearly turned to rage when he looked at her and saw the bruises that covered her face. Her eyes were swollen and barely open. Whoever had hurt her was a walking dead man.

  “Ryden?” She gasped. “Where did you come...never mind, just get me out of here!”

  “That’s precisely why I’m here. You’ve got someone after you, I take it? We’ll figure this out later.” He hesitated, not even sure where to touch her, causing her more pain was the last thing he wanted to do. He leaned over and cupped her knees under his arm and lifted her gently. She hissed in pain and his gut twisted. “Easy, babe, I’ve got you. This won’t be easy and I’ll try to be careful on the landing.”

  “Um, landing? Shit, just go.”

  “That’s my girl. Ready?” She nodded and he eased across the railing with her in his arms. The jump was short, and he landed on both feet, trying to keep the impact from jarring her, but she cried out in pain anyway. “Sorry, sweets, not much further.” Ryden carried her gently to his car and helped her inside all while she still clutched her pillow from the hotel room. He moved back around the car and got inside, then drove off quickly, hoping her assailants weren’t aware he’d gotten her out.

  Carlee appeared shocked at seeing Ryden. All he could think of was she had no reason to trust him but hoped she realized he was one of the good guys. She slumped against him as she tried to get comfortable in the car.

  “You really do have a habit of showing up when needed, then leaving when you’re not, don’t ya?” she said. “You sure had no problem becoming scarce three years ago. How did you find me?”

  Ryden didn’t bother to answer her questions. Hell, he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d tell her anyway. After they were back on the road, he reached over and pulled her pillow away trying to see how bad her injuries were.

  “Hey, easy, Ry. This isn’t show and tell and that hurts.” She gasped out in pain as he took away her security and checked her over as best he could while driving.

  “What happened, Carlee?”

  “Bad choice of boyfriends. Turns out he’s got an aversion to geeky brunettes. Almost getting killed by my present lover, only to have you show up again is giving me serious doubts about my ability to pick men.”

  She pulled the pillow back up against her stomach and huddled down in her seat. He saw her eyes as she tried to focus on him, watched them as they filled with pain while he drove them to safety. The look of mistrust in the green eyes that had haunted his dreams for years was like a kick in the balls. His knuckles were white as they gripped the steering wheel, teeth clenched with steely determination as he struggled to maintain control.

  The car was nice and warm, and he hoped it kept her comfortable even while he sweated in the driver seat. He didn’t care, only that she was comfortable. It wasn’t until they got on the interstate headed south that he pried his fingers off the wheel and reached over, his hand resting softly on her leg.

  “Did you have a place in mind or are you just running aimlessly?” he asked. For some odd reason, he sensed that his touch seemed to calm Carlee. He could feel the tension leave her muscles even as he caressed her thigh. Her tongue slid across her dry and cracked lips.

  “I was thinking Jamaica, mon. You know, Bob Marley? But he’s dead now, so finding him may be difficult. Of course, the way I feel I may….” Her words were cut off as his hand squeezed her thigh.

  “Don’t say the words, Buttercup. You’re not going anywhere.”

  He gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a silent tear. Carlee was a lot of things, but a wimpy crybaby was not one of them. She closed her eyes at his touch and groaned as she spoke, obviously trying to hide her pain and the fear he could smell permeating the interior of the car.

  “So many men, so little time. What’s a good girl to do?”

  Ryden chuckled softly, brushed back her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “You’re gonna sleep, Carlee. You’re safe, and I won’t let anything else happen. You have my word. I will wake you when we get to Savannah.”

  “Wait, how did you know I was going to Savannah?”

  “Don’t worry about that. Just close your eyes and sleep.”

  Her eyes fluttered closed as they flew down the highway. It wasn’t like her not to push and argue for her answer. That, alone, told him she was in bad shape. There was no radio, no music, just the hum of the road and the sound of Carlee’s breathing as she passed out.

  He couldn’t stop touching her even as he drove them south. A touch of her hair, caress across her thigh, and he watched as she slept, her breathing calm. She needed to see a doctor. Her incision wasn’t bleeding anymore but he had seen enough active duty injuries to know that it needed medical attention. At the very least, she needed antibiotics, clean bandages and something for the pain. As the street lights lit her face, Ryden could see the bruises from the beating she’d taken. Her eyes got to him the most. Still swollen, the bruises were fading to hues of purple and yellow. Her lips were still puffy, and she had a few cuts along her face that didn’t look too bad. Still the marks made his wolf growl. Taking her to a hospital wasn’t an option until he knew just what they were running from. Instead, Ryden called a doctor friend.

  The phone rang on the other end, and Ryden fervently hoped he’d answer. “Hello, Dr. Hammond speaking.”

  Ryden gave a sigh of relief at hearing his friend’s voice. “Cal, it’s Ryden. I need a favor.”

  “Anything you need, Ryden, you know that. What’s wrong?”

  Ryden had known Cal for many years. He was one of the medics who’d been responsible for keeping the pack patched up when they were injured. Werewolves healed fast, but sometimes not fast enough to keep from bleeding out or losing limbs, and no way in hell would they just leave a brother behind because he was hurt. Cal had played a pivotal role in maintaining the pack’s health.

  “I have a friend in need of medical attention. She was hurt and has been treated, but she’s not in the best shape. Someone is after her and until I know for sure who we can trust, I can’t risk taking her just anywhere.”

  “No problem, bring her to my private clinic. How long will it take you to get here?”

  “I’m not sure but give me at least a couple of hours.”

  “Call me when you get in town, and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Thanks, Cal. I appreciate this. I owe you one, friend.”

  Ryden heard him chuckle as he hung up the phone. It was a favor he knew the good doctor would cash in eventually.

  His clinic was in North Carolina. Cal had gone into private practice after leaving the military and had made quite a name for himself. Ryden drove through the night, not stopping, and called Cal just as he was minutes from the office. Carlee had slept during the drive and only stirred when Ryden picked her up and carried her in the back way.

  Her eyes opened as they walked inside and she looked confused. “Ry? Where are we?”

  “Easy, Buttercup, I’ve got you. We’re just going to get something for the pain. Relax, Cal is going to fix you right up.”

  “Something for the pain sounds great. You can shoot me with anything right now, and I won’t care…medication, that is.”

  Cal met them as he walked in, and ushered him to a private room where Ryden laid her on the bed. “Thanks, Cal. I’m worried. She was beaten a few days ago.”

  “Anytime, Ryden.” He shook Ryden’s hand and looked down at Carlee. “Tell me what happened and then I’ll give you something for the pain.”

  Carlee clutched Ryden’s hand and looked between the two. Ryden trusted Cal and knew whatever she had to say would be safe.

  “Carlee, I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t trust him. We can’t
help you if you don’t tell us what happened.”

  Her voice wavered a bit as she spoke, the fear evident. “You know how I always have shitty taste in men? Present company included?” Ryden’s guilt swelled tenfold at that jab and knew it was deserved. “It’s complicated. Let’s just leave it that eight days ago I was jumped and two guys beat the shit out of me. My spleen was ruptured and had to be removed. A couple of cracked ribs, lots of bruises.” Ryden’s hand locked down on Carlee’s shoulder and she moved, trying to get away. “Hey, I have skin and bones under there!”

  He loosened his grip, but his jaw was tense. There were a hundred thoughts that had run through his mind as he tracked her down. Her having been jumped wasn’t one of them. She was too smart for that. He knew she was leaving something out, something that she damn sure was going to tell him. “Why did you leave the hospital?”

  Closing her eyes, her tears and trembling lip gave away any attempt at a strong resolve. “I hate hospitals, you must have forgotten that. I left to make sure they didn’t come back. I really didn’t want to stick around to see if they came to visit.”

  Ryden didn’t say a word, only thought that getting jumped was random violence. Perps like that didn’t normally follow up on their victims in the hospital. Cracking his neck, he resolved to hunt the bastards down, something he would undoubtedly do later, but Carlee was his first priority. He would let her get away with telling only half of the story for now.

  She weakly fought the doctor when he took away her pillow as if it was a prized possession. While Cal gently examined her, he asked her some questions about her medical history and if she had any allergies. She didn’t look as he lifted her shirt, and Ryden cursed under his breath when he saw the long row of staples down her abdomen.

  “This is the new ‘in’ thing right, Bride of Frankenstein? I don’t need a costume for Halloween next year. I’ll just get some black tassels and I’ll be good to go.”