by Riley Storm
She couldn’t wait until the house was in sight. Once she was inside, in the separate downstairs area that was the ‘guest’ house where she was currently staying, she’d finally have some privacy from Pete.
Hopefully. Unless he’s gone insane enough to break in.
A swooping noise overhead caused Claire to duck at the unexpected sound and its closeness.
“What the hell?” she yelped, startled out of her personal thoughts by the interruption.
Looking around wildly, she could see no sign of whatever bird had gone on by.
“Did an owl just mistake me for dinner?” she muttered uneasily, her steps slowing as she looked all around her. There was nothing unusual to be seen.
A chill slowly spread down her spine as she continued walking. It didn’t go away, only getting worse. First, there had been Pete’s unexpected appearance, then Jones shamelessly creeping on her through the window. Finally, the drive-by-owling—is that even a word?—had left Claire uneasy.
Just get home, she thought to herself. Once she was there, at her parents’ place, everything would be okay. She would be safe. No more surprises, nothing that would—
Pete stepped out from around a pickup truck in the driveway ahead of her.
“P-Pete,” she stammered. “What are you doing here?”
Shaking his bald head—the baldness wasn’t by choice, she could still see his heavily receding hairline—Pete glared at her. “What am I doing? No, Claire. The question is, what are you doing?”
“Going home,” she said stubbornly, moving to try and get around Pete.
He moved to block her. She’d known it was likely a futile move, but the try was necessary. There was always a slim chance that he would let her go without issue.
“Oh, of course. I’m sure. Alone?” Pete said in a knowing tone.
Jones had already reported to him what he saw. For Pete to be here, waiting for her, meant that he’d been out and about as well.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” she snapped. “Sending Jones to follow me while you wait in the shadows to jump and what? Scare the crap out of me for no reason? You already uttered your threat, Pete. What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m here to protect what’s mine,” Pete said frostily.
“Pete, I was out having a drink, trying to forget all the crap that you’re putting me through. Besides, you do not own me. I’m not a slave. I’m a human being. Get that through your thick skull.”
“Out for a drink,” Pete sneered. “More like you were drinking and whoring. Is that what you’ve been doing since you left me? Trust me Claire, ain’t nobody gonna give you what I did. Nobody got what I got, and I know you love it.”
“How did I ever think you were attractive?” she said, shaking her head.
Pete stepped forward, one arm coming up.
“What are you going to do?” she snapped. “Hit me? I’ll call the cops. I’m not afraid anymore, Pete. That’s why you’re here trying to blackmail me. You know I won’t come willingly, and so you have to try and force me. I’m not dumb. Not anymore.”
“Who was the other guy?” Pete said, ignoring her comments. “He had some muscles. Were you trying to bribe him with your body into fighting me or something?”
“Oh my god,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He approached me, you moron. If Jones was actually doing his job, he’d have seen I was sitting at the bar alone for ages until that random showed up and plunked himself down. I did not invite him or anyone to come sit with me. Just like I didn’t invite you to come follow me to my hometown!”
“Bullshit,” Pete snapped. “You’re mine Claire, and you need to remember that. Nobody else can have you.”
“I. Am. Not. Yours!” she shouted, her voice raising her. “I am allowed to make my own choices. You don’t get to make them for me. I’ve made some bad ones in the past, yes, but guess what Pete? You’re one of those. But that’s over now. I’m done. I’m out. Now go away! This is why I left you in the first place.”
“You fucking slut,” Pete hissed. “You’re fucking him, aren’t you?”
Claire caught herself as her hand came up to slap Pete across the face. She stopped herself, stunned at the anger she was holding back.
He’s doing this on purpose. Trying to get under your skin. If you hit him, he’ll hit you back. You know that. Then, he’ll just grab you and take you now and blame it all on you.
“You’re not worth it,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Not at all. Go home Pete. Find someone else. Like Kerry. I know you were trying to get with her anyway. Now you’re free too, so go to her if you haven’t already since I left.”
Pete’s face grew scarily dark, and he took a step closer to her. Claire knew he wouldn’t be alone either. Others would be nearby, like Jones and Lyle at least. If not more of his thugs.
She didn’t stand a chance. Suddenly, her back-talk didn’t seem like as good an idea. They were in a residential area, houses nearby. If she started screaming, someone would hear her. Probably. Hopefully. She didn’t know if they would be able to do anything in time though.
All of which meant she was on her own. Against at least three large men.
Suddenly feeling stupid and terrified, she swallowed nervously and started looking for a way out of the situation. Something that would appease Pete, persuade him to let her go.
“Just do whatever you want to me,” she said dully, her body going numb.
She was done. Just done with it all. Done with caring. Done with trying to convince Pete that she didn’t like him anymore. “I don’t care anymore. Hurt me, whatever, and then just go away.”
Pete laughed, a soft, ugly thing that sent tremors of fear through her body, coalescing into a tight knot in her stomach. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
“You’re not?” she asked, confused.
“No,” he said, moving closer, his lips pulling up into an evil grin. “I’m going to take you.”
One hand clamped around her arm, and he spun her around, his other hand covering her mouth before she even had a chance to scream.
“You’re going to come with me,” he hissed into her ear. “Back to Kennewick Falls. Then, I’m going to show you exactly what you’ve been missing. Remind you why you were with me in the first place. I know what you like.”
Claire wanted to vomit as Pete started to drag her away.
There was a cracking sound, and something moved in the shadows under a tree at the same time a voice spoke sharply.
“That’s far enough.”
Chapter Six
Pietro
He stayed hidden in the shadows of the giant maple tree, hoping against hope that he could somehow intimidate this unpleasant character enough to get him to leave. The last thing Pietro wanted to do was reveal himself.
“Who the hell are you?” the man—Pete he was called—snarled, still holding Claire tightly.
Pietro’s eyes narrowed at the fear he saw in her eyes, his dragon rousing itself, blood flowing faster, temperature spiking. The urge to protect was growing stronger, becoming something that he simply couldn’t ignore. Animalistic instinct was threatening to take over, urging him to close in for the kill, to draw blood and prove to any challengers that she was under his protection.
Easy there, he chided himself, taking a deep breath to steady his mind.
“This is none of your business,” Pete growled. “So just go away, and you won’t get hurt. Got it?”
Staying hidden wasn’t going to work. His hope that a simple intimidation and the knowledge that someone else was around would convince Pete to let Claire go faded swiftly. He was going to have to reveal himself.
“Let her go, Pete,” he said harshly, stepping out of the shadows and into the light, where Claire could get a full glimpse at him.
He saw the moment her eyes flashed with recognition. Once everything was over, he was going to have to explain things to her. How he’d found her, why he’d intervened, all of that. It didn’t
promise to be a pleasant conversation either, but at the same time, there was no way Pietro was going to simply stand back and let this Pete character assault her.
It just wasn’t who he was.
The male holding Claire was about Pietro’s size, with just as much muscle, and a bunch of tattoos to go with the undershirt and jeans look that he was sporting. It must have made him feel tough, because he just sneered at Pietro.
“This doesn’t involve you, but if you want to try and play hero, be my guest.” Pete whistled, and another pair of men appeared from across the street, where they had been out of sight behind a hedge. “Now, get out of here, got it?”
“No,” Pietro said calmly. “Not going to happen, Pete.”
The other two men, one of whom was taller than Pietro, but skinnier, and the other, a short, wiry, sketchy-looking fellow who kept reaching for a pocket, spread out on either side of Pete.
Small one has a weapon in his pocket. Pete will throw Claire at the big one. He doesn’t look like much of a fighter. Then, he’ll come at me.
“Last chance asshole,” Pete snarled, jerking his head at Shorty.
The wiry man pulled out a switchblade from his pocket and flicked the blade open, pointy end directed at Pietro. The dragon shifter eyed the weapon with disdain. All it would do to him was slash his clothing—not that these men knew that.
Neither did Claire. She wasn’t aware of what he was, and Pietro would prefer to keep it that way. He didn’t know how she would react. Not everyone who had come to Five Peaks was a dragon lover, and plenty of people out there were voicing their dislike of his kind. He didn’t want to risk her running away from him when she needed his protection most.
All of which meant he had to do his best to appear human in the fight to come. Because there was going to be a fight. Neither side was backing down. Not that Pietro cared. As long as Claire wasn’t hurt, he didn’t mind a little bloodshed.
Pete deserved it. Nobody should lay hands on a woman that way and get away with it. Sending him to jail would be the preferred course of action, but the police weren’t around. Pietro was.
“Agreed,” he said. “This is your last chance. Let her go.”
“You’re gonna regret that,” Pete said. “I’m gonna hurt you bad now.”
“You probably shouldn’t do this,” Claire said suddenly, speaking up for the first time.
Pete tightened his grip on her mouth, the hand having come free while he was facing off with Pietro. Claire squirmed.
“I’ll be fine,” Pietro said, his eyes focused on her assaulter.
Claire managed to get her mouth free of Pete’s hand again. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to Pete.”
Pietro frowned as Pete flung Claire into the arms of the tall, gangly thug. “Don’t tell me what the fuck to do,” he spat. “You think I can’t take this wannabe hero piece of shit? Is that it? You think he’s gonna be able to take me down?”
“Yes,” Claire said with a dry tone of voice.
The furrows on Pietro’s brown deepened. If he didn’t know any better, he would say Claire was trying to provoke the fight. To antagonize Pete.
Did she really not like Pietro so much that she wanted him to get in a fight? To any outside observer, the odds were stacked against Pietro. For all she knew, he was about to get his ass kicked.
“Was I really that annoying to you?” he asked, trying to understand.
“Don’t fucking talk to her,” Pete spat as he stepped closer. “Now get lost.”
“No,” Pietro said, not moving.
“Fine,” Pete said, turning to go. “Whatever.”
The dragon shifter saw it coming from a mile away. He nearly had time to yawn at the delay before Pete reversed course and came around swinging. Pietro swallowed his pride and let the blow connect, yanking his head backward, pretending to stumble.
As he did the short man with the knife darted in on his left. Pietro’s arm, still ‘flailing’ as he moved backward, came down and smashed against the knife-wielders forearm. Metal clattered against concrete as the blow numbed the attacker’s arm and he dropped the weapon with a curse.
Pete came on in, wincing slightly from the pain in his hand—Pietro’s skin and bones were much stronger than a normal human’s. Punching him would hurt. Which is why Pete used his left arm now, bringing it around in a wild arc. This man was no trained fighter.
Doing his best not to roll his eyes, Pietro dropped his head into the punch. Something broke in the hand, and both of them whirled away in shock.
“Ow, dammit,” Pietro growled, blinking his eyes.
The stupid thug’s fist had shattered on his orbital bone, stopping that part of his hand cold. But the other two fingers had continued on to poke him in the eye.
Something poked at his side. He whirled to see it was the short, wiry man, now holding the knife in the other hand. He was faster than Pietro had given him credit for and must have scooped up the knife immediately. Now he was looking at it in shock.
“Hit the wallet.” Pietro chuckled—a fabrication, but necessary to keep his identity concealed—and then lashed out with a fist, hitting the man in the stomach and spinning away, lest he get covered as the tiny man’s stomach rebelled against him.
Someone came up from behind Pietro and wrapped him up tight, pinning his arms to his sides. It was the tall man. He’d let Claire go and jumped into the fight to help his buddies out.
“Now you’re gonna pay,” Pete spat, holding his broken hand to his side while he drove his right hand into Pietro’s stomach.
It tickled.
Pietro grunted and doubled over in ‘pain’ as Pete laughed. Then he lifted his leg and stomped on the foot of his ‘captor’. The man yelped and pulled away, releasing Pietro, who dove forward, tackling Pete in the midsection and taking them both down. He tried to make it look as awkward as possible while still landing on his chest with his full weight.
The air was driven from Pete’s lungs in a mighty wuff. Pietro tried to get top position, but he was stopped as Tall & Thin grabbed his arm and pulled him off. Pietro rolled, kicking out lazily with one leg, which just happened to connect perfectly with the tall thug’s knee. The man went down, though Pietro hadn’t hit hard enough to do any permanent damage.
He got to his feet, trying to look hurt but still game, bringing his fists up, ready to go again, but Pete and his gang had had enough. They gathered themselves up and backed away into the night.
“This isn’t over,” Pete spat.
“Keep walking,” was his only response.
Once they got into a vehicle a block up the street and took off, Pietro turned his attention to Claire.
“Are you okay?” he asked, keeping his distance, not wanting to unnerve her any more than he likely already had by following her from the bar.
To his surprise, she wasn’t scared or nervous or uncomfortable. Not even angry. She was looking at him with pure confusion.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, looking around to see what he’d missed.
“What the hell was that?” she asked bluntly.
Pietro licked his lips, working his jaw several times to get over his astonishment at the question. “I’m sorry. Was I supposed to just let them take you? I didn’t want to fight them, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer…”
“Right. I know it was a fight,” Claire said. “But why didn’t you just beat the crap out of them?”
“I tried,” he said. “There were three of them you know.”
“I can count,” Claire said with a snort. “What I mean is, you’re a dragon. Why did you look so…lame?”
Chapter Seven
Pietro
“Lame?” he yelped, caught completely flat-footed by the comment. “I—wait a minute. You know what I am?”
It took a moment for the word Claire had used to sink into his brain, given that it was busy trying to fight off the shock of being labeled ‘lame’. Pietro had been called a lot of things in his life. Some go
od, some bad, but never before had he been called lame.
Claire shrugged. “Yeah.”
He frowned. “How did you know?”
“Lilly,” she said, naming her best friend. “When she and Trent got together, I was there. He helped us. I knew that he was a dragon.”
Pietro nodded. He’d already figured that out. “So Lilly ended up telling you?”
“Yeah. She’s uh, what was that word she used, the weird one, to describe what they were…” Claire trailed off, her eyes losing focus as she fought to remember.
“Mated,” Pietro suggested.
“Yeah, mated. They’re mated, and so she went up Mount Atrox with him, and—”
“I remember her being at the meeting,” Pietro said, thinking back upon a meeting of some of the movers and shakers of Clan Atrox a week or so ago. “That would explain why she was looking at me the way she was.”
“You’re not mad at her, are you?” Claire asked. “She recognized you from the bar, and so she told me. I didn’t tell anyone else.”
“No, I’m not mad,” Pietro said.
“Okay, good. But why did you try to hide it from me?”
“I didn’t know how you would react,” he said bluntly. “Not everyone is a fan of the idea of dragons, and you’d already shot me down once, though I could do without being reminded of that constantly, and so I didn’t want to scare you off.”
Claire’s face softened. “I suppose This whole, um, I hate to use the term ‘coming out’, but reveal? Exposure? I’m not sure of the word, but it can’t be easy for you guys.”
“Most people are cool. You get the crazies at either end,” he muttered. “The haters and the worshipers. Those are the worst. I’d rather deal with crazed fans wanting pictures every day than have to listen to someone preach about how we’ve been sent by Satan, or that we’re gods in our own way. Neither of which is true, by the way, in case you were wondering.”