by T. S. Joyce
Layla snorted. “Georgia, what is wrong with us?”
“Not a damn thing. Your instincts kick up when you fall in love with a shifter, Layla. And Kong is fine. He’s strutting around like a proud rooster, actually. He’s already cleaned up and mostly healed, and his shirt is covering your mark. He’s just worried about you.”
Layla’s sigh released a hundred pounds of weight off her shoulders. “He’s proud?”
“Hell yeah, girl. He just bought the entire bar a round of drinks. And it’s not just as a distraction either. I haven’t seen Kong smile this much in months. I knew something had been eating away at him, but I didn’t know it was you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you. Now all his words of wisdom for everyone make sense. He was in love with you and couldn’t take his own advice because of his people. All he could do was make sure his friends didn’t waste opportunities to be with the people they cared about. Hold this,” she ordered, pressing a wad of gauze over the four puncture marks near the base of her neck.
Layla held it down hard as Georgia began scrubbing the blood from Layla’s shirt under the sink water. When she was done, Georgia pulled her own black cotton shirt off and handed it to Layla. “Put that on. Jason’s already waiting out back to take me home. I’m stealing your shirt for now.”
“Thanks for doing this.” Layla looked under the gauze with a wince. It wasn’t bleeding much anymore, but it hurt like the dickens.
Georgia replaced the old with new bandages, taped it down, then helped her into the new shirt. “Don’t favor it. Just do your best to make it look like you aren’t hurting, okay? The Gray Backs will work on keeping Kirk schnockered.” Georgia tossed all of the used medical supplies into the trashcan and buttoned up the first-aid kit. Then she turned and hugged Layla more gently than she would’ve expected from a grizzly shifter. “Congratulations.”
Layla hugged her shoulders as her heart sank down to her toes. “He still won’t stay.”
“But for tonight,” Georgia whispered, holding her back at arm’s length, “you belong to each other. Enjoy it and let tomorrow bring what it will.”
Layla tried to smile but her lip trembled, so she nodded instead, fighting burning tears as the fear of losing Kong after what they’d just done seeped into her bones.
Head up and spine straightened, Layla followed the curvy park ranger into the hallway and waved her thanks as Georgia made her way to the back exit.
When she came out to the bar, Jake was in the middle of pouring a row of at least a dozen shots. He passed them out to the customers at the bar top then turned a wary grimace on her. “Are your female problems all…cleared up?”
Layla pursed her lips to contain her smile and nodded. “Mmm hmmm.”
“Good. Now take this tray of drinks over to the pool table before they get warm. And what happened to your tank top?” he asked as she walked away, tray in hand.
She ignored him because, really, she was crap at lying. She licked her lips and smiled shyly as she set the tray on the table close to the group playing pool. Kong bent over to line up a shot but his churning green eyes lifted to hers, and in an instant, the worry there morphed into a heart-stopping smile. Her heart beat against her breastbone as she handed out drinks, and now her grin was uncontrollable. She’d been with Kong now. She’d shared one of those life-altering moments with the man she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for three years. He’d broken his contract for her and marked her. The bite on her shoulder burned and tingled just thinking about it, but she’d heard Georgia and pretended it didn’t bother her at all. Later, she would be a total wiener and take pain killers, but in front of Kirk, she would be tough for both Kong’s sake and her own.
“You,” Kirk slurred, pointing unsteadily at her around Creed. “You’re the reason for all the trouble.”
The blood drained from her face, leaving her skin clammy and cold. “W-what?”
On the other side of the pool table, Kong stood to his full height.
“You…” Kirk closed his eyes and seemed to drift to sleep before he blinked them open again and took another pull of what looked like straight whiskey. “You’re the reason I’m going to be punished. You’re the reason you’re being punished.”
“What are you talking about?” Kong asked in a low, dangerous voice.
“Layla!” Jake called over the bar.
She ripped her gaze away from Kirk’s bleary eyes and called, “I’ll be there in a minute!”
“No, now. You have a phone call.”
A phone call? It was midnight. The way Kirk shook his head and stared at her with that sad look in his eyes made her blood curdle in her veins. Chills blasted up her arms as she backed away with the empty tray. She turned and ran for the bar, then picked up the phone off the counter.
“Hello?”
“Layla,” Sherri said, her voice shaking. “I tried to call your cell phone but you weren’t picking up.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Honey.” Sherri swallowed audibly. “Honey,” she repeated softer, “Mac passed tonight.”
Layla shook her head slowly back and forth. “No.” The noise of the bar died to nothing as Sherri explained that he’d taken out his breathing tube. “No.”
“He had a real bad day, and the pain killers weren’t doing it. This afternoon he was having such a hard time breathing. I left you voicemails.”
“No, Sherri,” Layla said, wrapping her arm around her middle and doubling over. “I just saw him this morning.”
“Baby, I’m sorry.” Sherri was crying now. Layla could hear it in Sherri’s voice, in the hitched way she was breathing.
“I’ll be…” Layla squeezed her eyes closed against the pain in her middle. “I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay? Just keep him awake.”
“He’s gone, honey.”
“Keep him awake,” Layla demanded as the room spun round and round. “I’ll be there soon. It’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
“Layla, I don’t think you should drive—”
She hung up the phone in a rush and stared at the faded brown plastic of the landline. She was still shaking her head, so she stopped. Jake was staring. Barney, too.
“Are you okay?” Jake asked low, gripping her elbows.
Spinning room, spinning Jake. She wanted off this ride.
“Yeah,” she said in a hollow tone she didn’t recognize. Was she speaking, or had she only imagined her words? “I’m fine.” Head bobbing. Harder. Nod, and he’ll believe you. “I have to go. I’ll be back soon.”
“Okay,” he said, eyes wide. His gaze drifted to the phone and back to Layla, but she was already backing away.
She turned and bolted for the hallway. Someone had tidied up the office where her purse was sitting in the bottom drawer of the desk. Kong? Georgia? She snatched the purse and sprinted through the bar as the first wave of tears burned her eyes.
Mac wasn’t dead.
He couldn’t be.
This was all just a misunderstanding.
Chapter Nine
Kong followed Layla’s exit with his gaze until she was gone out the front door. A feeling of wrongness filled his instincts, and he leveled Kirk with a suspicious glare. “Where’s Rhett?”
“He didn’t want to celebrate tonight, Kong. He never wanted to be here, remember?” Kirks words tumbled over each other, one word slurring to the next. “He had orders. Fiona told you. She told you.”
Kong ripped him out of his seat, clenching his shirt as he brought him face to face. “On pain of fucking death, you better tell me where the fuck Rhett is. Now.”
“I told you. Carrying out orders.”
Kong threw him back into the chair and scrubbed his hand over his two day scruff, pacing tightly as he stared at Kirk.
Kirk looked sick when he glanced back up at him. “You know, I didn’t choose to be your guard. I wanted to head a family group. I have the genetics for it, but Fiona decided on my fate, like she decided yours. She’
s going to kill me for refusing her. Rhett doesn’t mind killing, though. He’s made for it.”
“Who,” Kong asked low. He already knew the answer, but he wanted Kirk to say the vile thing Fiona had ordered. “Who?” he roared.
Kirk’s eyes went vacant as he stared at the door from which Layla had disappeared. “Mac.”
The room faded around him, and his vision settled to a pinpoint on Kirk’s broken eyes. Someone was grabbing his arm.
Kong.
“Kong!” Aviana said, clutching his wrist. “Go to her!” Tears were rimming her eyes as she searched his face. Tiny, dark-haired Aviana. Brave little raven for getting this close to him right now.
His animal roared inside of him, rattling his head and throwing the worried faces around him into uneven vibrations. Kong stumbled forward, lurching toward the door.
Layla. She would be alone now.
He bolted for the parking lot and revved the engine of his Camaro, then slammed his foot on the gas and spun out of there, spraying gravel behind him. Saratoga’s dark streets passed beside him in a blur and, in minutes, he was slamming on the brakes in the Tender Care parking lot. Layla’s car was planted at an angle on the curb, her door still open and the engine still running. Kong reached inside and turned it off, then shut her door gently.
The second he stepped through the entrance, he could hear Layla weeping, and asking, “Why?” She chanted over and over she hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t walk in that room and see her destroyed like this. But if he didn’t, who would? Who would be strong for her when Mac wasn’t around?
Kong’s face crumpled the second he walked past the nurses who were crying outside the door. Layla was sitting on the bed, legs curled under her as she cradled Mac’s head in her lap. He just looked asleep. Layla’s shoulders shook with her weeping, and every word that came murmured from her lips sounded like heartbreak. Kong leaned heavily against the door frame and closed his eyes. Her pain was his fault. He’d known the risk, and he’d pursued her anyway. Sherri stood beside him, gripping his shoulder and wiping her eyes. “It was fast. He just stopped breathing after he took out the tube.”
Bullshit. He stopped breathing with a pillow over his face. Rhett had probably smiled as he suffocated him.
Because of him.
Because his fucked up world had collided with the peace Layla had managed to find. After everything she’d been through, she’d been happy with Mac. She’d had as normal a life as she could, and now it had been ripped away from her because Kong had tainted her. He’d put her directly in the crosshairs of Fiona and Rhett, all because he couldn’t just let her be.
Some mate he was.
Beaston had said his duty was to make her happy, but this was all he was capable of. Ruining her. Every heartbeat hurt, every movement of his muscles as he sat in the chair next to her and watched his mate break. It took an hour before she’d cried herself out, and when she lay spent, Kong picked her crumpled body up in his arms and strode from the room before she could see the nurses pull the sheet over Mac’s face. And as he walked Layla through the front door, something deep within him broke. He could feel himself changing from a cellular level outward. He no longer gave a shit about consequences. This was where the winds of change turned to a fucking hurricane. There was no more cowed Kong, trying to please everyone so that the people he cared about didn’t get hurt anymore. He was Kong, dominant death-bringer silverback who had been pushed too far.
Hurting him was one thing, but his people had hurt his mate.
And now they were going to pay with rivers of blood.
****
Layla closed her swollen eyes against the moonlight that streamed through the window of Kong’s Camaro. All of the crying had brought on a massive headache.
He’s gone.
Another wave of grief threatened to buckle her, so she wrapped her arms more tightly around her middle to keep from falling apart into tiny pieces. She was a broken mirror now. She’d been punched in her middle, and now the jagged shards of her heart were barely holding together.
Kong hadn’t said a word the entire way to…wherever they were going. Maybe he was just driving through the wilderness, she didn’t know. Two hours of complete silence had been good for her, though. She needed Kong right now, just like this. Quiet, sitting beside her, ready to hold her in case she fell apart. She wasn’t strong right now, but he was cutting a rigid profile.
Strong Kong. Weak Layla.
Mac.
Her family wasn’t whole anymore. It had been beautiful for a moment there. Even if it was hard, she’d had Kong and she’d had Mac, and her little make-shift family had felt complete. It had taken her years to build it—to let the right people into her heart—but after a blinding, joyous second, it was over. Dreams broken, and she hadn’t gotten to say goodbye.
Kong pulled under a wooden sign over the white gravel road that read Grayland Mobile Park.
“What are we doing here?” she asked in a hoarse voice as he pulled in front of a semi-circle of singlewide mobile homes.
Kong didn’t say a word as he put the car into park. The driver’s side door creaked open, and the car rocked as he got out. With long strides, he walked around the front of the car and opened her door, then reached over, unbuckled her, and pulled her out cradled against his chest.
“You’ll be safe here,” he murmured. “Ten-ten is magic.”
“Ten-ten?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked over at the Gray Backs who had filed out of their trailers and gathered in front of them. Faces so somber in the deep shadows of a porch light off one of the trailers, they were almost unfamiliar. She had rarely seen this crew without smiles on their faces.
Willa approached first, her bottom lip trembling as she hugged Layla and Kong. Kong went rigid with Layla in his arms but allowed the affection. It wasn’t until after Gia, Georgia, and Easton piled around them, hugging them up tight, that Kong relaxed by a fraction.
Another wave of tears fell from Layla’s eyes as she rested her forehead against Willa’s. Strange bears and their affection, but it was working. At least she didn’t feel numb anymore.
“Can I kill him now?” Easton said in a hard voice.
“No,” Kong answered. “I just need you to protect my mate while I take care of some things.”
“What things?” Layla asked, voice shaking.
Kong looked down at her with the saddest look. His eyes were still the blazing color of early spring moss, churning like storm clouds. “Mac is dead because of me. You’re crying because of me. I can’t fix what’s been done, but I can avenge him. I can avenge the hurt that’s been done to you.”
“I don’t want you to. I want you to stay with me.”
A small smile crept into the corners of Kong’s lips. “If I can, I’ll come back for you.” With that, he lifted his gaze to Creed and settled her on her feet. “Watch over her?”
Creed’s dark eyes were somber as he nodded once.
Kong leaned forward and pressed his lips against her forehead. He let them linger there as Layla clutched his shirt in her clenched fists. “I can’t lose you, too.”
Kong eased back and gripped her arms. The corners of his eyes tightened, and he looked fearsome as he said, “You stay here with the Gray Backs.”
And then he released his hold on her and sauntered back to his car without glancing back. The engine of his hotrod roared to life, and Layla stumbled forward as his car faded into the distance the way they’d come.
As his taillights disappeared through the pine forest, a horrible feeling that she was losing the rest of her make-shift family washed over her.
Chapter Ten
The hours of driving hadn’t cooled Kong’s blood. His rage hadn’t lessened. He hadn’t wised up or conjured second thoughts on the revenge he would take.
Hours of driving had only given him purpose and allowed him to calculate exactly what it was he was doing by going after Rhett.
He’d rebelled in his youth when he was a blackback, but Ivan and Gordon had broken him at Fiona’s orders. He’d fought and bled and almost died to keep his freedom, but in the end, he’d been too weak to hold it. Things were different now, though. He was fully mature, and he hadn’t sat around waiting to be called. He’d focused his energy on building a life, yes, but beyond that, he’d fought anyone who would face off with him in Judge’s barn for the sole purpose of never being weak again.
Kong turned onto the black asphalt road that led to his cabin. It was littered with leaves that blew in little tornadoes. In the distance, beyond Damon’s mountains, lightning lit up the sky. The air out his open window smelled of ozone and rain. Fitting weather for Mac’s passing. Fitting weather for the turmoil within him.
Back at 1010, Layla was probably curled in on herself, crying. The memory of the hopelessness in her eyes as she’d cradled Mac’s body slashed through him. Red rage unfurled in his veins as the cabin came into view, a modest one story with huge logs he’d stripped himself. Three bedrooms—one for him and two for the guards who had made his life a living hell. Who had routinely poked and prodded him down a straight path, making all his decisions, keeping him toeing the edge between surviving and actually living. Constantly reminding him his life belonged to Fiona and his seed to a strange family group he hadn’t chosen for himself.
Fuck Fiona. Fuck his guards. And fuck some predetermined family group. He was Layla’s—body, soul, bone, and blood.
Rhett had unleashed something inside of Kong that couldn’t be caged again. He’d awoken a monster.
Rhett stood from a rocking chair on the porch, a cruel smile twisted on his lips and an excited glint in his blazing silver eyes.
Kong pulled his car in front of the cabin and parked it, then slid out and said, “You went too far.”