by C. C. Wood
“They’re coming,” I murmured. “I think they’re too far away to see us with the lights off.”
Lachlan peeled out of the driveway, turning left. He floored it, the speedometer in the dash quickly shooting up to eighty miles per hour. The road veered to the left. The trees would hide us from view if they intended to pursue us. Quickly, Lachlan turned right down another small country road, followed by a left, then another right.
“Do you know where we’re going?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered shortly. “I memorized the route before I came. If we take a few more turns, the roads will lead us to 412.”
“Where are we going?”
“I don’t know.”
I grinned. “I do.”
He glanced at me. “What?”
“Gram arranged for me to have a house under an assumed name. No one knows about it but the two of us. We should be safe there.”
“Where is it?” Lachlan asked.
“Twenty miles from here,” I answered. “But in the opposite direction.”
“Shit.”
“That’s okay,” I said. “We can take the scenic route.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Lachlan
I parked the truck in front of the small house and shut off the engine. It was nearly four in the morning and Chloe and I were exhausted.
“We need to check the place out,” I stated tiredly.
“I know,” she answered, her voice quiet.
In agreement, we climbed out of the truck and Chloe gestured to the right. I went left. We circled the house, finding no evidence that anyone had been there. Not even humans.
When we met back at the truck, I pulled our bags out of the cab. “Come on, let’s get to bed.”
She dug the keys out of her bag and unlocked the door. I followed her inside, my nose twitching from the dusty smell of the house. She walked through a compact living room and down the short hall. A door stood open to our left that revealed a bathroom. The door at the end of the hall was open as well and Chloe went inside. I followed her, discovering a spacious bedroom. Against the far wall was a king-sized bed.
Chloe gestured to a chair in the corner. “You can stick the bags there. Are you hungry?” she asked.
“It can wait. We need sleep.”
She sighed. “That sounds good. I’m going to go turn on the air then we can go to bed.”
I dropped the bags in the chair, grabbing the phone chargers out of mine. In her rush, Chloe had stuffed them both inside. Then I stripped out of my clothes, letting them drop to the floor as I walked to the bed.
I heard the air conditioner kick on and felt cool air blowing into the stuffy room. When Chloe returned a few moments later, I was already in bed. She removed her own clothes, disappeared into the bathroom for a minute, then came back to slide into bed, sighing as she settled against me.
I slid my arm under her head and exhaled as her cheek hit my chest. In the last few days, I’d grown so accustomed to having her in bed with me that I wasn’t sure how I’d ever sleep alone again.
If I hadn’t been so tired, the thought probably would have scared the shit out of me. As it was, I could barely keep my eyes open.
“Do you think Carter will be okay?” Chloe asked suddenly, her voice sleepy.
I rubbed my hand over her shoulder. “Yes, I do. He’s a survivor.”
“He should be alpha of the pack,” Chloe stated.
“You don’t want the job?”
She chuckled against my chest, rubbing her nose on my skin. She had a habit of doing that at night before we went to sleep, as if she wanted to make sure that my scent was the only thing she smelled in her sleep. “Hell, no,” she replied. “I don’t have the temperament.”
Now that I knew her better, I was inclined to agree. Still, I was impressed that she understood that about herself. A lot of wolves, male or female, would assume that their fighting prowess meant that they would make excellent pack alphas. Often times, they were wrong.
“He should change the name of the pack,” she said idly. “I don’t think it will be led by MacArthurs ever again.”
“What about your children?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I doubt I’ll have any.”
“You never know when you’ll meet your mate,” I pointed out, ignoring the shaft that pierced my heart when I uttered the words. I shoved the feeling away. I cared about Chloe, but she wasn’t my mate. My mate was dead.
“I already have,” she whispered, her body going lax against me. “He doesn’t want me.”
Every muscle in my body tensed at her words. “What?” I asked.
She didn’t answer. She was already sleeping.
I lay awake until the sky was tinged with pink, unable to stop thinking about the mate that hadn’t wanted Chloe. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Any male would be lucky to take Chloe as a mate. I could have the she-wolf with me for the rest of my life and never regret it.
I cursed myself, because I knew if Chloe had a mate and he returned for her, she would leave me behind.
The smell of coffee and bacon woke me up the next morning. I sat up, throwing my legs over the side of the bed and rubbed my forehead with my hands. A glance at my phone showed that it was nearly noon.
Hoping a shower would clear the fuzziness from my head, I walked into the bathroom, emptied my bladder, and climbed into the tub.
“Fuck me!” I yelled when the water came out ice cold. The showerhead was low, the nozzle pointed at my chin rather than raining water over my head. I got a face full of frigid liquid.
I heard Chloe’s chuckle on the other side of the shower curtain, stepped out of the spray, and stuck my head outside to see her put a cup of coffee on the counter. “I see you’ve discovered the horrible plumbing.”
“Jesus Christ, you could have warned me,” I complained.
She grinned at me. “But where’s the fun in that?”
I gave her a look that promised retribution, which only made her smile widen.
“Will I be forgiven if I tell you I made breakfast?” she asked sweetly.
“Maybe,” I mumbled, ducking back into the shower and reaching for the shampoo. She must have gotten it out of my bag while I slept. I stared at the bottle in my hand, a testament to her thoughtfulness, and once again my mind wandered to the mate that refused her.
His loss would be my gain, I decided. At least for now.
I heard Chloe leave the bathroom as I washed my hair. When I finished my shower and dressed, I came out of the bedroom to find a huge mound of bacon and waffles waiting for me. There was even orange juice.
“Did you go shopping this morning?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, I had all this in the freezer. I left some things here. I planned to come back for a week or two after this was all over. It’s not the best meal we’ll ever eat, but at least we won’t go hungry today.”
My stomach rumbled as I looked over the food. “Looks good to me. I’m so hungry I don’t really give a damn how it tastes.”
We sat down and ate, Chloe asking me what I wanted to eat for the next few days as she made a list. In the midst of chaos, the simple domestic task seemed blessedly normal.
“We’ll have to go shopping this afternoon. It’s probably a good idea to grab things that we’ll eat for the next few days. If we have to leave again, we can put what’s left in the freezer.”
“We need to call Calder and your grandmother today,” I reminded her.
She looked at me. “I know, but we also need to eat, so food comes first. We can go into town after breakfast and make the call when we come back.”
The trip to the grocery store revealed another facet of Chloe’s personality to me. She marched through the aisles as though she were on a mission, working her way through the store with swift precision. She rarely lingered over choices, selecting products after a quick perusal of ingredients and price.
Within twenty minutes, we’d gathered what we needed, paid
for the items, and were back in the truck, heading out of town. I noticed Chloe checking her mirrors, making sure we weren’t followed as she drove. I’d been doing the same and it seemed we were safe for now.
Once we were back at the house, the groceries put away, Chloe and I opened the bag that Carter had given us last night. Inside we found everything he promised—a map of the city, blueprints of the police station, and something he hadn’t promised, his father’s habits, schedule, and, best of all, the combination to his safe. Then we called Calder and her grandmother, Sophia.
Quickly, I explained what had occurred over the past two days. Calder and Sophia remained quiet as I spoke, neither saying a word until I was done.
“You don’t know where Carter went?” Sophia asked, her tone displeased.
“No, I don’t, but I trust him.”
“Yes, well, my son trusted Darrell and look what happened.”
“Gram,” Chloe interrupted. “Lachlan did the right thing. Carter got us everything we need to break into his father’s station and get proof of everything he’s done. Including proof that he murdered Mom and Dad.”
Sophia was silent.
“How many wolves will you need?” Calder asked.
“Four, maybe five,” I answered.
“That many?”
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “There’s a complication.” When Calder didn’t speak, I continued. “Brian and Brayden Kirkpatrick are here.”
“What?” Calder’s voice was loud enough to make me wince. “What in the hell are they doing there? They were just in Dallas a few weeks ago.”
“I don’t know but it definitely gives me a bad feeling.”
“Me too,” Calder murmured. “So do you think they’re there to see Chloe?”
I glanced over at her and knew she’d heard Calder’s question. Her eyes were intent upon me and full of questions. “Yeah, I do.”
“Fuck, I really don’t like this. Okay, so four or five wolves. Do the Kirkpatricks have any of their pack with them?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Maybe I should send more than five,” he stated.
“It’s your call,” I agreed. “Either way, we’ll need to wait a few days and give Carter a chance to heal before we attack. If you send Mason and Shane, plus two others, the six of us should be able to handle it. None of them are as strong as our weakest wolf.”
“Seven of us,” Chloe corrected me. “Unless you were planning to stay behind because I’m sure as hell not.” Her tone held a warning.
“I’m not sure how effective Carter is in a fight,” I explained. “Even if he’s healed, it’s doubtful he’ll be at his full strength for weeks.”
Chloe tilted her head. “I think he’ll surprise you,” she drawled.
“But a few days’ wait will give them time to get ready for us,” Sophia argued.
“Maybe, but Carter said we’ll need his help to get in and I believe him,” I replied.
“I’ll tell them to get ready to leave tomorrow. It will give you time to formulate a plan and get them up to speed,” Calder offered.
“Sounds good.” I glanced around the house. “Tell them to be prepared to rough it. There are only two bedrooms and a damn tiny couch.”
Calder chuckled. “They’ve slept in worse places, I’m sure.”
We talked for a few minutes longer before hanging up.
“What did you mean by the Kirkpatricks being here for me?” Chloe asked.
I stared at her, unsure how to explain the feeling in my gut every time Brayden Kirkpatrick looked at her, or the way his eyes flashed whenever he heard her name. I had no proof, just a deeply seated sense that something was wrong.
“Lach?”
“I’m trying to figure out how to explain it,” I answered. “It’s nothing concrete, just a feeling I have about Brayden. His body language and the look in his eyes when you’re even mentioned gives me…” I trailed off, searching for the best way to describe it.
“The creeps?” she injected.
I huffed out a laugh. “For lack of a better word, yeah.”
“He doesn’t give me the best feeling either, especially after seeing him yesterday,” she agreed, surveying the papers spread on the kitchen table. Chloe rubbed her hands together. “Well, we should probably get to work,” she stated, changing the subject.
I could sense the agitation in her. She wanted to end this, the sooner the better. She really hadn’t been lying when she said patience wasn’t her strength.
“It’s just a few more days, Chloe,” I said quietly.
She looked up at me, her hazel eyes bright. The green stood out in her amber irises, a clear sign of her frustration. “I want him to pay,” she growled and I realized she wasn’t thinking of Brayden Kirkpatrick anymore. She was focused on Darrell. “With his blood and his bones. Because that’s what he took from me.”
“He will. I promise.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chloe
Since Lachlan cooked dinner, I washed the dishes. The day had been a long one. The simple task allowed my mind to calm and wander. God knew I needed it.
I couldn’t believe I’d told him that I’d found my mate. When he’d mentioned children and never knowing when I’d meet my mate, my tired mind didn’t have the energy to filter my thoughts and the words had slipped out.
Still, he hadn’t mentioned it, so I hoped that perhaps he’d been asleep and hadn’t heard me.
I rinsed the last fork and put it in the drain board. Once I let the water out of the sink and wiped down the counters, I turned off the light in the kitchen and walked into the living room. Lachlan was sprawled on the sofa, his feet flat on the floor and legs spread wide as he watched me pause in the doorway.
“Come here,” he murmured, lifting a hand to beckon me forward.
Recognizing the gleam in his eyes, I moved toward him. When I was between his outstretched legs, I knelt to the floor. His gaze followed the motion, his lids lowering, hooding his eyes.
I put my hands on his knees, curving my palms over the top of each one. Then I slid them up his thighs until they met in the center. His tongue darted out to wet his mouth as he watched me, but he didn’t move. Though we’d been intimate several times now, he always stopped me when I tried to use my mouth on him.
There would be no stopping me this time.
Without taking my eyes off his face, I unbuckled his belt, slipped the button free, and lowered the zipper of his jeans. My knuckles brushed his cock as I loosened his clothes and I felt it growing harder as I spread the denim. He wore nothing beneath them.
He lifted his hips up and let me jerk his pants down his legs and over his bare feet. As I tossed them aside, he reached back over his head and grabbed the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head.
I knelt before him, fully clothed, as he leaned back on the couch, his nude body burnished by the golden light of the lamp. He looked like an erotic work of art, his hard cock lying against his firmly muscled stomach.
I reached out and circled him with my fingers, lifting his rigid length up so I could stroke him with my hand. He sucked in a sharp breath, his arms flexing at his sides, but he didn’t move.
Still staring into his burning blue eyes, I leaned forward and opened my mouth, flicking the head with my tongue. He twitched in my hand, growing harder. Smiling at him, I licked him again, starting at the base and dragging my tongue up to the tip.
Lachlan’s eyes never left my face as he watched me run my lips and tongue over the smooth, hot skin of his cock. Even as his hands clenched and opened at his sides, he didn’t touch me. Without direction, he knew that I wanted him to lie still and let me touch him.
It wasn’t until I closed my lips around the tip of his cock that his hips jerked against the couch and his hands lifted so he could bury his fingers in my hair, sweeping it back from my face.
Stroking my hand up and down his length, I sucked and licked the crown, his hands growing tighter with
each pull of my mouth. When he stiffened beneath me, I lowered my lips, taking him deeper until I could handle no more.
Lachlan groaned deep in his chest and he broke eye contact as his head fell back on the couch. I squeezed him tighter with my hand and my mouth, sucking harder and deeper. He guided my motions with his hands, but never shoved my head down or forced me to take him too far.
His body grew taut beneath me and I knew he was close. I pushed him harder, my head bobbing and my fingers moving in long strokes, and he came, spilling down my throat.
I swallowed, drinking him down, taking every bit of the salty, slightly bitter liquid. When I gave him one last lick, he flinched. “Fuck,” he gasped. “That felt fucking amazing.”
I smiled up at him, my lips feeling swollen. He leaned forward and kissed me. His hands tangled in my hair and tugged my head back.
Against my mouth, he whispered, “But next time, you’re going to be naked and you’re going to touch yourself while you do it.”
I shivered at his words and watched as his pupils dilated.
“You like that idea, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
His hands moved from my hair, down my neck and over my breasts, stopping at the hem of my tank top. He tugged it up, pulling it over my head. My bra hit the ground only a moment after the fabric.
He urged me to stand up, hooking his hands in the waistband of my shorts and underwear so he could yank them down my legs. When I stood naked before him, his fingers slid over my pussy, dipping inside me.
“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he muttered. “Did sucking me off turn you on?” he asked, his eyes lifting to meet mine.
“Yes,” I whispered, watching as he lifted his fingers to his mouth and slid them inside.
My legs went weak and collapsed when he grabbed me, pulling me down until I straddled his lap. He kissed me then, his tongue tangling with mine. Grabbing my hair again, he positioned my head where he wanted, baring my neck to his mouth. His teeth scraped down my throat as he bent me farther back, lifting my breasts to his lips.