Stealing Joy

by Lulu M. Sylvian

  Stealing Joy

  Wolves of Wet Waterfalls 1

  Lulu M Sylvian

  Copyright © 2019 by Lulu M Sylvian

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editing by Full Bloom Editorial

  Cover by Laura Medeiros

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  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

  Need more Lulu

  About the Author

  Zero cups of coffee were consumed during the creation of this series. Shocking, I know.

  I admit to playing fast and loose with the geography of Wyoming’s highway system. I moved Highway 191 about 10 miles to the east and up the side of the mountain. I also made it a bigger road. In a world with werewolves, I think a little shifting of roads on maps should be allowed. While I know I could have placed Wet Waterfalls in a different range, like the Tetons, it just needed to have that magic of alliteration: Wet Waterfalls, Wyoming in the the Wind River Range.

  1

  The car wound its way up the side of the mountain. I had no idea where he was taking us. We headed west, and that’s all I knew. Everything had changed on me. At this point, I was more concerned with how soon before he would finally kill me over his intended destination.

  I pulled the coat around me the best I could. It was awkward trying to put it on backward over the seat belt. But my butt and back were content against the seat. It was my arms, legs, and feet that were cold.

  The heater spat out more dust and engine exhaust than it did warmth, and Gordon wouldn’t let me have shoes. So, I did my best by tucking my feet under me and using his coat. At least he let me have that.

  It was safe to say this was not what he promised me.

  Flashback not quite a week ago—my mom smirked her knowing little grin as Gordon flashed a charming smile and winked at her. He put my bag in the trunk of his car, and I skipped my way to the passenger seat, waiting for our vacation to begin. My first vacation with a boyfriend, okay more like an extended weekend, but still. Mom had been dropping hints all week that this was like a faux pre-honeymoon for the two of us. She was dying to ask if I had condoms, and was I ready to be changed for life. I think she thought I was a virgin. Gordon and I had already been doing the horizontal mambo for at least a few months.

  Six months? No, I needed to think about this. I had known him for six months, so sex for maybe five months. And he wasn’t my first. But the big deal was the out of state vacation, only the two of us. That’s not something I had ever done before—at least, not without family.

  Her eyes looked misty as she kissed me on the cheek and said, “Have a joyous time, Bailey.” I know Mom somehow felt she was losing her little girl.

  It turns out she was not wrong.

  “I gotta take a dump,” the asshole kidnapper named Gordon announced.

  He admitted that actually was his name. Nothing else about him was honest or true.

  “The sign back there said there’s a rest stop in ten miles.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I felt sick. I pulled as close to the passenger side door as I could. I had no idea what would set him off. My commentary was instinctual. Announcing what the road signs say. Remembering signs that indicate restrooms.

  He took to hitting me whenever I said anything that contradicted him. Hell, he hit me for speaking, end of story. I had a lovely bruise on the side of my mouth since that was where his reach naturally put his hand every time he lashed out. My lips were tender, and if he kept it up, they would be cracked soon. The black eye was from a completely different hit, at a different time.

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A rest stop? You think anyone is going to believe you? You aren’t getting away from me.”

  So far, Gordon had been right. I wasn’t getting away. That’s why he had my shoes. That’s why he was pulling off on the side of the road to relieve himself, not waiting to use a facility with toilets and toilet paper, and running water.

  This time, Gordon was wrong.

  There was barely any shoulder where he pulled over and even less wooded area away from the road for him to do his business. It was more like a crack in the side of the mountain. I watched him for a little bit, tripping over logs and shit on the ground, as he made a path away from the road.

  Whenever I had to pee, I wasn’t allowed away from the car. I had to do it right there on the shoulder just outside of the door, which was the only thing blocking me from anyone’s view. Basically, I was peeing in full view of everyone and their uncle.

  I hadn’t had a bowel movement for at least three days now. I didn’t feel very good and knew it was a combination of fear and lack of facilities.

  Gordon disappeared from my view, so I switched to looking in the review mirror. I wanted to make sure if the car was hit, I at least saw it coming. He picked a stupid ass place to leave the car, on the blind side of a long curve, on the side of a mountain.

  If I couldn’t see Gordon, could he see me?

  I’m pretty sure that was the last cohesive thought I had. My seat belt was off, and I slid across to the other seat, throwing open the driver side door. A semi truck’s horn blared as it passed by close enough for the air pressure to rock the car.

  I was out the door and running across the freeway. More horns blared, but I was deaf and blind to any danger. I rolled over the concrete divider, pressing myself back against it as I mentally adjusted for traffic from a different direction.

  I didn’t even wait to catch my breath before I was running again—across two lanes of freeway and over the metal guard rail, and then down in a sort of running-falling trajectory down the side of the mountain. It was steep but not sheer. The horns continued behind me, but I didn’t stop running.

  Rocks and branches bit into my feet. I had to have gone at least a mile before I felt anything. There was no way Gordon could have caught up. No way he’d be able to see me. He took care of that. There was nothing bright on my body. I blended.

  Spinning his nasty camo coat around so it was on properly, and not backward, I crouched down and scuttled over next to a tree and huffed in the air. Between the camo, the gray sweats, and my now brown hair, I was effectively hidden in the sparse forest on the side of whatever mountain, in whatever state this was.

  The only person out there who might even be looking for me was Gordon, and he wasn’t going to find me. No one else knew I was kidnapped. As far as work, friends, or my parents knew, I was on a fuck-fest vacation, screwing my way from state-to-state as part of our fun mini road trip. If I counted the days right, I wouldn’t be missing for another two. That was two days I didn’t plan on spending in his company.

  I let my breathing ease up, and my heart finally stopped pounding in my ears so I could hear something other than my own noise.

  Nothing.

  Gordon wasn’t a hunter, or any type of outdoorsman, that I was aware of, so if he were looking for me, I’d hear him.

  Damn, it was colder than I realized. I needed to get moving. The sun would set soon. Even though fall had really just started, the days were getting shorter, and I needed to find some form of shelter.

  My hands slid in-and-out of all the freaking pockets on this coat as I searched for anything that might be useful—a second p
air of socks, a lighter, a cell phone, a pair of hiking boots. It was a big fat no to any of those. I did find a half-eaten Kit Kat and a tin of mints.

  I should have known Gordon was a psychopath. What kind of freak bites directly into a Kit Kat without snapping the individual pieces off? Well, this kind of freak finishes it. I hadn’t eaten much at breakfast and didn’t realize how hungry I was until I saw that chocolate covered piece of cookie goodness. I made sure to actually chew, and not swallow it down like the starving woman I was.

  I shoved my hands into the pockets and continued down. I had no clue where I was headed other than away from Gordon.

  Stumbling through the cold, I let my mind wander back to the beginning of what I thought was going to be a romantic, sexy-time adventure. It started off well enough. Gordon wouldn’t tell me where he was taking me, didn’t want to ruin the surprise. And of course, I had been too excited to call Mom and tell her all about the sweet little B and B once we arrived.

  The car rumbled to a stop in front of a picture-perfect gingerbread laden Victorian. The colors were crazy—wild purples and greens.

  “What the hell, Gordon? This place is gorgeous. Like a fairy princess lives here,” I gushed.

  “That’s the plan, sweets.”

  The trunk closed with a thunk, and he followed me up the front stairs. I held the door as he carried our bags inside.

  “Hello?” I called into the empty living room. Even with the sign out front, I felt like we had walked into someone’s home and not a business. I turned to Gordon. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. We have reservations.” He fished a folded up printout from his back pocket and shoved it at me.

  Okay, we were in the right place. There was no denying the photo on the printout as the front of this house.

  “Sorry, I was in the kitchen and didn’t hear the bell.” A movie-perfect older lady with snow-white hair piled up on her head, and a dusting of flour across her apron scurried toward us from somewhere in the back of the house. “You must be the Dryers. Gordon, right?”

  He gave her that charming smile of his that melted my toes. “That’s right, Mrs. Fey. We aren’t too early, are we?”

  “No, no, not at all. My bell has been on the fritz, and I didn’t realize you were already here until I heard voices.” She moved to an old fashioned, roll top desk in the corner and fished something out.

  I didn’t notice it was the key until she held it out to me. “You’re in the Cupcake room. Gordon said this place was perfect for you.” She eyed my bright magenta and orange hair.

  Not everyone appreciated my personal aesthetic, but clearly, this lady did. Heck, her house was purple and green, and the living room looked like a fairy princess’ dream, with bright rainbow colors and little fairy creature figurines tucked in almost hidden places. I noticed a fairy door along the floorboards, and a sprite peaking out of the curtain treatments. If the toys could move, I would’ve sworn I was in a real fairy’s house. I wanted to live here when I grew up.

  I took the key with a smile and followed her ample backside up the stairs. I was not kidding when I said she was movie-quality perfect, with enough extra padding to know she made cookies and put out milk for stray cats.

  “Will you be joining us for dinner? I was getting ready to start preparing the pie crusts, and wanted to make sure I made enough.”

  I turned to Gordon, a silly grin on my face, nodding furiously. Pie!

  “What’s on the menu?” Gordon asked.

  “Homemade chicken pot pie for the main dish, my special stuffed mashed potatoes with plenty of cheese, sour cream, and bacon; and roasted Brussels sprouts, if you need a vegetable. For dessert, I have banana cream pie and cookies.”

  I may have made a sound deep in the back of my throat. I was in a fairy house and ready to eat pie! “Yes, we are definitely staying for dinner.” I didn’t give Gordon a chance to say anything.

  That was my first mistake of the week. No, I take that back. Leaving with him was the first mistake.

  Once inside the room, I spun on my heel like some star of a musical—my arms wide with a smile on my face as I took in all of the magic of this perfect place. “This place is amaze—”

  That was the first time he hit me.

  I stumbled back and held my hand over my cheek.

  “That hurt.” I really didn’t understand what was happening.

  “Never make a decision again without consulting me.” I’d never seen that expression on his face before. He looked completely different.

  “What? Because I said yes to dinner? Gordon, pie. You know I love me some pie.” Damn my face really stung. I stared at him with wide open eyes.

  “Hey, hey.” He bundled me into his arms and pressed my head into his chest. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

  I snaked my hands around his waist and sank into his warmth. Whatever that was, it was a fluke and over with. We were in fairyland, and dinner wasn’t for another couple of hours. “Do we want to go explore her garden or have wild monkey sex?”

  Wild monkey sex it was. I vaguely felt guilty about banging the headboard around in the middle of the afternoon, but not too badly. At least the house wasn’t full of everyone else who would be banging away all night. Just the main fairy and I’m pretty sure she knew she ran a high-class fuck palace. I mean why else would anyone come out to spend a few nights in a fairy house in the middle of nowhere?

  2

  I’m not exactly sure how it happened, if it was a mistake or if Gordon engineered it. At the time, I convinced myself it was a complete fluke. I knew better now.

  A bottle of liquid cold medicine exploded in my bag. All my clothes were coated in a pink, sticky mess. Neither of us had colds, so I wasn’t exactly sure why the bottle was packed. And if my brain hadn’t been rattled by his devil penis magic, I would have clued in a bit earlier.

  Gordon groused at me, and it seemed so unlike him. I didn’t pack cold medicine in my clothes, and wouldn’t have. If I’d packed it, it would’ve been in a zippered plastic baggie, inside my bathroom case. But he spoke with such authority as if he saw me do it. For a hot second, I thought… maybe I had.

  Between the sweats Gordon gave me, and Mrs. Fey letting us use her washer and dryer, all was good. I didn’t mind. The plan for tonight was more monkey sex anyway, so I didn’t need clothes until the next day, and my laundry would be done by then.

  I hated having to attend dinner, that Mrs. Fey served family style with everyone at one big table, wearing boring ass gray sweats. I wanted my fluff and colors. I belonged in this house, and I packed the perfect outfit. Well, it would’ve been the perfect thing to wear tonight, except it was in the wash, and going to need to hang dry for the rest of the trip.

  The top was a unicorn, front and center, on the bodice, and I planned to wear it with a rainbow skirt, layered with tulle. I liked color. I might dress like a three-year-old, but hey, I embraced my inner fairy child and let her shine. Hell, my hair was orange with fuchsia and purple highlights. The orange was natural, the other colors enhanced.

  Instead, I was dressed boring and drab, like everyone else. But I wasn’t going to let that stop me from enjoying the pie.

  “Mrs. Fey, this is divine,” I may have mumbled around a mouth full of food, but it was true.

  “Thank you, dear.” Everyone was ‘dear’, ‘sweetie’, or ‘kind, sir’ when she spoke to them. She didn’t have to remember names that way. It made sense to me.

  “You made the whole thing from scratch? Even the crust?”

  She nodded to all my stupid questions.

  “You need to go on one of those baking shows. You would totally win.”

  Everyone else at the table mumbled some form of agreement. There really wasn’t much conversation. It was very much unlike any rom-com movie, when they end up at a quaint B and B. There was no lively banter with the other guests. So disappointing.

  The lady across from me stared at my hai
r and then whispered into her chest at her partner. I was trying to be PC, and not assume he was her husband. And truth, I don’t think he was. I think he was her lover, and her husband and that guy’s wife were still back at their respective homes.

  The other couple was cute and made me feel old. They were on their honeymoon, at the ripe old ages of nineteen and twenty-one. Kari, the girl, was the one to declare herself to be old. After all, she had already been out of high school for two years.

  I thought she was crazy young. But who am I to judge? At her age, I was still a virgin juggling college classes. Hell, at twenty-four I felt young. Maybe it was all in the mind. Perhaps, if I were dealing with rent, bills, and a husband at nineteen, I would’ve felt old too.

  Gordon behaved as he normally did. So, I knew the smack earlier had been a total mistake. I probably danced into his hand as he was stretching at high speed, toward my face.

  After dinner, I held Gordon’s hand and we strolled in the garden under the almost full moon. He pulled me against his chest and I giggled.

  “Do you love me?” he asked.

  My stomach did a flip. I knew it! I knew he loved me. I knew this trip was going to be awesome.

  “Yes, I love you.” My cheeks felt like they were going to burst off my face I smiled so hard. It’s hard to kiss when you’re smiling like a rank idiot.

  And I was a total rank idiot. It was getting colder. The sun had set, and I continued downhill. The full moon illuminated the forest so I took advantage and kept walking. I needed to find some shelter, a cave, some rocks, maybe a tree with low branches.

  Why were there no fucking trees with low branches in the woods? How stupid was that? There was a flash of silver-white fur. I headed toward it, maybe if there was a dog, there would be campers, or a house, or something. My climb evened out and I stepped into a small clearing. The moon reflected off the back of a white dog.