Bear's Shadow (Vendetta Series Book 2)

Home > Fiction > Bear's Shadow (Vendetta Series Book 2) > Page 1
Bear's Shadow (Vendetta Series Book 2) Page 1

by Desiree L. Scott




  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Bear’s Shadow

  The Vendetta Series – Book 2

  Desiree L. Scott

  Lavish Publishing, LLC. – Midland

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  BEAR’S SHADOW– Copyright 2017 ©

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Lavish Publishing, LLC.

  First Edition

  Vendetta Series book 2

  All Rights Reserved

  Published in the United States by Lavish Publishing, LLC, Midland, Texas

  Paperback edition

  ISBN-13: 978-1-944985-35-6

  ISBN: 1-1-944985-35-2

  Cover Design by: Wycked Ink

  Cover Images: Adobe Stock

  www.LavishPublishing.com

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  About the Author

  Prologue

  The Island

  Another meeting was taking place, and Nikki knew it wasn’t a social call. Someone was going to die that night. She usually saw a body on the news the next day, floating in the port, and it was never ruled an accident. Her throat dry, she glanced over at the clock and read the blinking red digits.

  2:18 a.m.

  Yeah, there was something special about this meeting.

  Suddenly, she heard a small noise from the room below, followed by a thud, and she stiffened, struggling to block out the reality of what had just happened.

  A silencer.

  The master bedroom was directly above the office, and if she got down on the floor and put her ear to the wood, she could actually hear whole conversations, as well as the bodies fall to the floor.

  Oh, God, another one, she thought, her heart pounding with dread as she lay in the king size bed, the silk sheets twisted around her shaking legs. What had the poor person done to cross her bastard of a husband?

  She glanced over at the closed closet to the right where her suitcase was stashed and felt her eyes burn with the pain of what she refused to reveal. She had gotten into this mess almost ten years before. No one else could get her out of here. Only one person had tried, and he paid for it with his life.

  Nikki closed her eyes, blocking out the images of that fateful night almost five years before. She couldn’t go back. She could only follow his final words he had yelled as the fire consumed him—to escape, no matter what.

  The past had taught her a powerful lesson. Those who tried to help her died at the hands of her husband, and she refused to have anyone else’s blood on her hands. All she could do now was wait for a single moment to get inside his safe for the stash of money Nikki knew he kept. She wouldn’t be able to touch the account or any other methods where he could track her. She had to disappear. It was the only way she would survive.

  She didn’t know how much time had passed from that single thud, but before she could glance at the clock, she heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and quickly rolled over onto her side, facing the wall away from the door. In seconds, she had her breathing even as if she were asleep.

  The door creaked open, and a large shadow fell across her, his steps silent on the plush carpet as he came closer to her.

  Rustling came from his side, and before long, the covers shifted as he got in the bed. Liquor and smoke drifted toward her, but she was used to the smell and remained still, praying he was tired and just went to sleep without…

  God wasn’t answering her prayers as a large hand pulled the covers away from her body. Shivering in her thin nightgown, goosebumps rose on her arms from the slight breeze of the ceiling fan he had insisted on.

  The same hand unbuttoned the nightgown from the back as kisses trailed down the side of her neck.

  “I know you’re awake,” he whispered, his hand trailing down to the front of her stomach and between her legs. He pinched her thigh, and she flinched. She knew what it meant and spread her legs for his invasion. It was hard, harder than usual, and she gasped as he dug in. Suddenly, he flipped her onto her stomach and yanked her hair back.

  “Ass in the air,” he growled, yanking harder.

  Nikki felt tears slide down her cheeks but obeyed, getting on her hands and knees.

  Minutes felt like an eternity as he rode her before finally stiffening and falling to the bed at her side. Seconds later, he started to snore softly, and she got out of bed, limping into the bathroom to clean up. Walking back into the bedroom, she stilled, her heart pounding at the realization that her moment had come. He was passed out and would be sleeping soundly for at least a few hours.

  Without missing a beat, Nikki quickly left the bedroom and ran down to the office, an area that had been off limits to her for years. She quickly glanced inside to make sure it was empty and made her way over to the safe in the corner, still sore but willing to risk it to get the last of what she needed to escape.

  She kept her eyes away from the dark stain in the center of the room she knew was blood. Someone had just died that night, but she couldn’t think of that now. Hope blossomed for the first time in years as the locks disengaged; the combination of numbers she had spent months, even years, trying to figure out finally worked. The door opened, and sure enough, stacks of bills lay inside. With a shaking hand, she quickly grabbed a few stacks. Any more and he would notice.

  Closing the heavy metal door of the safe, she made her way back to the bedroom, and within minutes, the money was safely stashed away, hidden in the closet.

  Heart pounding, Nikki slid back into the large bed and tried to sleep, but her excitement, her hope, was too much, and she stared up at the ceiling as dawn began to fill the room, the shadows of the night disappearing. The snoring had stopped long before, which meant her husband was now just dozing. Suddenly, his phone alarm went off, and he jerked awake. Within seconds, he was out of bed and getting dressed without a word.

  She made a sound as if she was just waking up and turned to look at him as he finished buttoning his white shirt.

  “Would you like some brea
kfast?” she asked quietly, playing the dutiful wife of the past ten years. She avoided looking at the closet, at her means of escape, as she kept her eyes on Edward.

  “No,” he said curtly as he finished tying up his boots. He stood, his tall frame overshadowing her as he headed for the door. “I’ll be home late, so stay inside today,” he ordered before leaving the room.

  It would be hard, but Nikki couldn’t disappear yet. Not everything was in place yet, but now that she had money, she could set those plans.

  Soon, she thought as she, too, got out of bed and began to get dressed. Very soon, this will just be a dark memory. I’ll be free.

  Soon.

  Chapter 1

  Two months later...

  She couldn’t pull the trigger. The fucker deserved to die, and yet she couldn’t do it.

  Looking down at her husband’s sleeping form on the bed, the small, black gun shaking with a violent tremble, Nikki Calhoun inched closer to the king size bed—a bed that had seen more blood than pleasure. Barely able to stand on her unstable legs, she lifted the gun another inch.

  His face turned in her direction, she stared down at him, the bile of hatred in her throat threatening to bring up what little acid coated her stomach. With each punch of his fist, she had already heaved what little bit she had managed to eat at dinner.

  Raising the gun even more, she quivered with the knowledge that it would only take one bullet and she would be free. Free from the abuse and pain of what he called love.

  Love wasn't supposed to be painful. Love wasn’t supposed to be punching and hitting. Love wasn't standing over the other’s sleeping body and craving the peace and relief that only death would bring.

  The shaking worsened as her finger tightened on the trigger, on the small mechanical part of the deadly weapon that would solve all of her problems.

  A gold-framed mirror hung on the wall, on the other side of the bed, and her gaze caught the woman within the glass, the shaking gun clutched between her hands. The wild mane of brown hair framed a pale face, and the deadly glint in her blue eyes revealed the pain, the battle of finishing what lay before her.

  The problems in their marriage were evident in the bruises, the fresh discolorations still dark and sharp around the edges. He had slipped that night. Before, he had never touched her face, and when her face had caught his fist, his rage had grown. Now she could barely move, barely lift the small one-pound gun in her shaking hand, the pain overwhelming her broken body.

  Her resolve steadied her hand slightly as her eyes left the battered woman in the mirror and lowered to the bed, to the sleeping man’s naked form.

  So easy. Just pull the trigger, Nikki. The world will be a better place. He’ll never hurt another woman ever again.

  Tears burned her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. The mirror caught the glittering pain of their depths. That was the thing with mirrors; they caught everything, even what a person wanted desperately to hide.

  A loud snore caught her attention, and she froze, the gun poised, almost even with his temple as he shifted on the bed, a small dribble of drool on his thin lips she had once thought sexy.

  Disgust curled her stomach as the tempting thought crossed her mind.

  She wouldn’t miss at this distance.

  Pull the fucking trigger!

  Just then, a distance sound broke the silence, and she heard her cell phone go off in the kitchen down the hall. Her eyes narrowed down at her husband, her hand tightening again, but the ringing continued, the insistent country blare of Chris Stapleton filling the silence of their large house.

  The six bedroom, four bath house sat on a small private island, outside of Portland, Oregon. The large house contained just the two of them, sitting on two acres with a wall around the main house. Cameras and motion sensors hidden throughout the property made escaping almost impossible, but that night, Edward had given the entire staff the night off. Even his bodyguards were nowhere to be seen, and she knew why. Her husband wanted complete privacy for what he had planned for her. If she didn’t escape now while she had the chance, there would be more to come—more blood spilled.

  And she wouldn’t last the night.

  Lowering the gun to her side, the tears fell faster, unnoticed, streaming down her face and falling to the brown carpet. The mirror again caught the movement as ragged sob shook her shoulders.

  Nikki turned away from that blasted piece of glass, from the broken reflection of what she couldn't hide. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t pull the trigger.

  Turning away, every motion of the walk down the hall felt like fire. She could barely move without groaning, and the tears seemed to fall faster the farther she walked from the man behind her, walked farther from the opportunity to bring what little peace she could with one simple act.

  The Crescent Ice Vineyard

  Crescent Ice Pack Enforcer Bret Axel stared out the window of his office overlooking the vineyard, sighing deeply as a slight smile upturned his lips at the sight. Fields of grapes and vines went on for miles, seeming to have a random path of growth to them but were in fact placed perfectly and intentionally in a certain way to culture the best wine in not only the valley but the state of Oregon. The Crescent Ice Pack’s territory was outside of Portland. Dipping into the valley, it was the ideal location, as the trees surrounding the land gave the pack the perfect amount of privacy for their activities of running and hunting without dealing with a bunch of nosy humans.

  Bret, however, was different from the rest. He wasn’t a wolf. Bret Axel, best friend to the Alpha of Crescent Ice, Travis Kameron, was a bear shifter and proud of it.

  His phone vibrated on his desk behind him, and he answered it, his voice rough from tossing and turning the night before. He didn’t know what his problem was, but the feeling of restlessness was back, even stronger than before he had left the military.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hey, Bret. It’s Zach.”

  Zach O’Neal was his cousin and the only one he trusted to run his nightclub in Seattle while he stayed at the pack house. Bret was an enforcer, and unless something big came up, he stayed close to his Alpha. Zach, on the other hand, was different. He preferred to live a lone life and enjoyed running the club.

  Bret stilled, the hesitation coming through the line unlike his cousin. His eyes narrowed as he stared out the window, not really seeing the beauty he had been admiring moments before. “What’s up, man? What’s going on?”

  “I’m not really sure. There’s been a lot of activity lately around the area, and I don’t like what I’m seeing,” he finally said grimly. “I think you need to come up here for a few days. Besides, the damn books aren’t matching, and you know how I hate the books,” he added lightly. But Bret wasn’t fooled. The concern was still there, buried beneath the weak humor.

  “Let me talk to Travis, and I’ll be out in a few days. Keep an eye out. If anything happens, call Jackson. He should be back in town after his latest disappearing act.”

  Jackson Maddox was ex-military, like Bret, and a doctor, always disappearing and reappearing in different ways. He was a hard man to read and get to know, typically keeping to himself, but he was a man anyone could count on, including the pack.

  “Will do.”

  With that, he snapped his phone closed, but his eyes remained fixed outside, his thoughts racing, analyzing what the call could mean. If Zach had called him, then he was really worried. His cousin wasn’t one to cry wolf, or in this case bear, and run scared, regardless of his gene pool. Increased activity around the dock area where the nightclub was located was suspicious enough and cause for raised eyebrows.

  He glanced down at his watch. The pack meeting would start in forty-five minutes, so the timing was perfect.

  Twenty minutes later, he knocked on his Alpha’s office door and walked in, the other man standing by his window, talking to Noah, the other enforcer. The two men looked up from their conversation with smiles of welcome.

/>   “Hey, Bret. What’s up?” Travis asked.

  Bret closed the door behind him and approached the two men. Suddenly, it hit him.

  Silence.

  Ever since Travis’s daughter had been born, silence was a thing of the past, as the little girl was always racing from one end of her domain to the other.

  “Where is everyone? It’s too quiet.”

  Travis laughed, his blue eyes softening as he thought of his daughter. “Vanessa and Mom took her shopping for a new outfit before we head out of town for the weekend. She’s growing like a damn weed!”

  Vanessa was his new wife, and her daughter was actually Travis’s step-daughter, but mention that technicality to his Alpha, and the man wasn’t afraid to hand the offender a piece of his own ass. Ava was his—end of story—and the little girl adored her father.

  But Bret was kind of shocked that Travis had let them leave the safety of the pack house, considering what had happened a year ago.

  Vanessa had fought hard to move on and heal from the six months she was forced to fight as a wolf in an underground fighting ring. The memories still unnerved Travis, thinking back to his time there as well, forced against his will to fight and kill other wolf shifters. Before they could escape, Vanessa was raped as a wolf by the leader of the link, Dominic. Refusing to let him win, she fought to stay a wolf and safely delivered her daughter, Ava. She had her revenge when Dominic dared to take her and her daughter; she ended the bastard’s life herself.

  The pack soon realized he was only a small piece of the puzzle. The shifter fighting ring was a lot bigger than they had anticipated, and they were all tracking the links within the council. So far, they hadn’t had any luck beyond a few tips leaking in that hadn’t led to shit.

  Travis must have read his mind because his smile disappeared and blue eyes hardened.

  “Two men are trailing them. They’re safe.”

  Bret grinned at the fierce look on his Alpha’s tanned face. “Vanessa hates that.”

 

‹ Prev