by Lynn Hagen
She bit her lip and shook her head. “Like I said, they were very secretive. Sometimes they would disappear together days at a time.” She blushed and looked at the floor. “I hate to admit it, but I was jealous of Cameron. James treated him sweetly, never raising his voice. He seemed to have a wealth of patience with Cameron.”
James had been a horrible mate and an aloof stepfather who acted as though Samson hadn’t existed. It angered him that he had been a bastard to his mother and sweet to his friend.
Samson couldn’t take it anymore. He pulled his mother into his arms and held her close, wishing he could erase all the ugly from the earth so she could live in a better world.
She patted his chest before she took a step back and smiled at him. “I’m okay.”
Samson seriously doubted that but let the lie go for now.
She let go of a deep sigh, and her shoulders weren’t sagging as much anymore. “If I’m being honest, I would swear those two had been lovers. Before Samson and I left Desire, probably a month or so before then, James and I hadn’t had sex—”
“Oh god…no…I just…I…jeez…let’s not…” Samson couldn’t stop sputtering as his face caught fire. They were close but not that close. He didn’t want to picture his mom naked, having hot, sweaty sex. In his eyes, she was still a virgin and she’d found him in a rainbow cabbage patch. End of story. Gross thoughts erased. Please.
She looked incredulously at him. “First of all, grow up, Samson. We’re all adults here. Second, I heard you the other night having sex with Eric. If anyone should be blushing, it should be me.”
“You heard us?” He needed a hole in the floor to open up and swallow him. Samson thought for sure he’d been very quiet. Clearly he hadn’t.
Werth chuckled, and suddenly he wasn’t so hot anymore. Samson wanted to kick the big bastard in the balls for finding his embarrassment so amusing.
The sheriff sobered. “Is there anything you can think of that would help us find Cameron?”
His mother looked deep in thought as she continued to bite her bottom lip. “I heard them mention a name.” She looked at the sheriff. “Diablo’s.”
Werth cursed. “That’s the name of a bar in the demon realm.”
“The what?” Samson’s and his mother’s eyes rounded. “Did you just say the demon realm?” Samson asked.
Werth eyed them. “You both are, or were, mated, and you know nothing of the demon realm?”
“To be fair, I’ve only been mated a few days,” Samson defended. “And James hasn’t exactly been a fountain of information.”
“He spoke more with his fists than his lips,” she said.
Fuck. Crap. Samson pulled her back into his arms, hugging her tightly as tears welled up in his eyes.
“I told you I’m okay.” She pulled away.
“Maybe I’m the one who needs a hug,” Samson whined. He was allowed to be a little clingy after everything his mother had been through. After everything he’d been through.
“He also mentioned me not having a clue about a shitstorm I stepped into,” Eric said as he walked from the bedroom.
“Ack!” Samson jumped in front of his very naked mate as his mom’s brows shot up and her gaze lowered. Eric was just too damn comfortable being naked around other people. They were going to have a talk later about that.
The sheriff smirked.
Samson’s mom kept trying to see around him.
Eric’s hands landed on Samson’s shoulders. “I have to take a piss.”
“Close your eyes,” Samson hissed at his mother. He eyed the sheriff. “You, too.”
“Why don’t we get a cup of coffee in the kitchen,” his mother said to the sheriff. She looked over his shoulder at Samson and winked. “You got very lucky.”
Oh my god! Now his mom knew the size of Eric’s dick, and there was no telling what wicked thoughts were going through her blonde head.
And he didn’t want to know.
When Werth and his mom disappeared into the kitchen, Samson waved a hand. “You know the way to the bathroom. While you’re in there, I’ll find you some clothes.”
“I doubt anything you have will fit me.” Eric slid his hand down Samson’s back and squeezed his ass. “Though I’m not complaining about your size. I like how compact you are.”
Compact? Samson had never been described that way before, and he wasn’t sure he liked sounding like a car or makeup.
Samson batted Eric’s hand away. “Do you know she heard us the other night?”
Eric chuckled. The bastard. “You are a very noisy lover. I’m surprised the people in the bakery didn’t hear us.”
That would’ve been a mortifying thought if they hadn’t screwed around late at night, and Samson knew for a fact the bakery had been closed.
With a tiny, pathetic growl, Samson stomped to his bedroom.
Chapter Twelve
Eric got out of his Rubicon and stared at the destruction that used to be his home. Everything he’d owned had gone up in flames. There wasn’t anything left he could salvage, and although he wanted to look on the bright side that he and Samson hadn’t died, his blood still boiled as he gazed at the ruins.
“You’re welcome to stay at my place,” Vince offered, “until you get back on your feet.”
Eric appreciated the offer, but Vince’s house was too damn small for four people and a house cat. Besides, Bella always hissed at Eric whenever he stopped by. One time the little ornery furball tried to piss on his boot. Vince was lucky Eric didn’t believe in harming animals because he’d been seconds away from strangling the little shit.
“I’m just gonna stay with Samson and his mom until I figure things out.” It wasn’t as though he’d asked them, but he was pretty sure they wouldn’t mind.
“You ready?” Vince asked.
There had been a reason Eric had waited until nightfall to leave Samson’s apartment—though he had asked a few timber wolves to keep an eye on the place.
It was dark out, perfect for what he needed to do, though he wasn’t sure his plan would work. Just because Mirabelle had said she’d heard Diablo’s mentioned didn’t mean Cameron would be there. But so far, no one had had any luck finding Mr. Lumberjack—that name was now stuck in Eric’s head.
Eric had never summoned a demon warrior before but had been told all he had to do was shout one of their names. That sounded a little farfetched, but at this point, he was willing to try anything in order to catch Mr. Lumberjack and make the bastard pay for all the shit he’d caused.
Like trying to kill Eric…twice. A guy just didn’t easily forget or forgive something like that. He wanted Cameron brought to justice. After all, Eric was law enforcement, and he believed in locking up the bad buys, but a part of him wanted revenge, wanted to rip the bastard’s throat out and watch the life drain from his eyes
Eric blinked. Damn, he’d gone dark, and that wasn’t like him. He was usually a carefree kind of guy who rolled with the punches, not contemplated someone’s demise.
“I’m ready.” Eric threw his head back and shouted, “Hondo!”
That was the name Micah, one of the timber wolves, had told him to use. They looked around, but Eric didn’t see any burning, levitating eyes. He started to feel as though Micah had punked him. Did the timber wolves play jokes? Had Micah decided it would be funny to mess with Eric?
Vince tapped his arm. Eric turned and saw the eyes he’d been looking for, and what Micah had told him didn’t compare to seeing those burning, floating eyes in person.
And then a huge guy stepped from the shadow of the woods. Micah hadn’t said anything about the guy being engulfed in flames or that Hondo had ox-blood-red eyes or that he was as tall as Maverick, reaching nearly seven feet tall. He appeared demonic with raven-black hair that fell to his broad shoulders.
“Do you know how hard Chris worked on dinner?” Hondo asked. “I love spaghetti night.”
Eric hadn’t the first clue who Chris was. “Uh…sorry?”
&nbs
p; “We just need to get into the demon realm,” Vince said. “We’re tracking a guy named Cameron and heard he sometimes hangs out at Diablo’s.”
Hondo looked at them as if they were daft. “Do you know how many guys are named Cameron?”
Eric gave the demon warrior Mr. Lumberjack’s description, though, after he spoke, he realized there were probably plenty of men who dressed that way. Talk about sounding vague.
“Okay, whatever. I just want to get back to dinner.” The flames surrounding Hondo died down and then vanished. He grabbed Eric’s and Vince’s wrists and walked back toward the woods.
Why did Eric feel as though he was being led to his death as they walked toward the dark and ominous trees? He had a wild urge to drop breadcrumbs.
When he took his next step, a wave of dizziness washed over him and Eric shouted as he felt like he was freefalling.
Vince was shouting, too, which made Eric feel less of a wuss.
He hit solid ground and rolled before coming to a stop. Eric shook his head as he pushed to his knees, waiting out the dizziness and nausea.
When the waves subsided, Eric got to his feet. He stared at Vince, who had already been standing. “Let’s do this.”
* * * *
Samson sat in his bedroom playing some game on his phone. If asked, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what game it was. His mind wasn’t there. He tried hard not to look at the clock, because it only reminded him how long Eric had been gone, but every few seconds Samson’s gaze strayed to the alarm clock on his dresser.
It had been three hours and no word yet. Not even a stinking text. Samson knew because he’d checked his text messages every five seconds. He might have sent half a dozen texts to Eric, maybe more, but he wasn’t being a stalker. Samson was genuinely worried about his mate, and waiting was the worst kind of torture.
If it hadn’t been so late, he would’ve gone to work to occupy his time, but the candy store had closed hours ago.
He looked up when he heard a soft knock on his door. His mom pushed it open and gave him a warm smile. “I brought you some tea to help settle your nerves.”
Samson wanted to be alone and he didn’t want to be alone. He appreciated his mother trying to be there for him, but he knew she was working on her own problems. He also felt bad because while he was waiting for his mate to get back, she would never see hers again.
Not that she needed to, and James deserved to be locked away, but she wasn’t made of stone, and she had to still care deeply for the bastard.
“You shouldn’t worry about taking care of me, Ma.” He patted the space next to him as he set aside his phone “How’re you holding up?”
“I’m honestly doing okay.” She sat and tucked a stray hair behind Samson’s ear.
“Because you’re numb?”
“Because I’m numb.” The side of her mouth curled. “I’m not sure what I should be feeling, and my emotions keep switching from one moment to the next, but we’re Woods, and we pull our bootstraps up and keep pushing forward.”
He would’ve thought she was just trying to make him feel better, but Samson saw the fierce spark in her eyes. She was determined to move on and put James behind her.
It would just take time.
For mates, that might’ve been impossible, but Samson had been mulling over what his mom had said to Sheriff Werth about how James and Cameron had acted together. They’d been weirdly happy together while James had been abusive toward Samson’s mom.
James had also been unemployed, letting his mom work herself to the bone to pay the bills. That fact had downright pissed Samson off, but no matter what he’d said to his mom, the protests he threw her way, she always defended her mate, saying it had been her job to take care of him while he was looking for work.
Which he hadn’t.
Fed up with James’s bullshit, Samson had followed him one day when he’d said he was going to look for work. Unless he’d gone on countless interviews at Bad Habits, a local bar, the only thing James had been doing was drinking away his mate’s hard-earned money. But he’d never seen James meet up with Cameron. Before that evening in the diner, Samson had never laid eyes on the guy.
He pushed those thoughts aside, because the longer he thought about James, the more Samson wanted to find out where the underworld was and wrap his hands around the guy’s neck.
“Why don’t we go watch a movie?” Samson didn’t want to sit in his room and talk about anything deep right now unless his mom wanted to, but she was already off the bed and heading for the door.
“That sounds like a great idea.” Her smile was brighter, and her eyes weren’t so dull. That tiny spark had intensified as she headed out of his room.
Samson lifted his teacup. “Here’s to denial,” he whispered. “The best defense against a broken heart.”
He took a sip and sighed. It might just be tea, but his mother had added honey and a touch of sugar, just the way he liked it.
Taking his cup with him, Samson headed into the kitchen. “I’m gonna make some popcorn for our movie,” he called out.
“Add extra butter,” she called back. “I’m picking an action movie. I need to see things blown apart.”
Samson snickered. His mother was the daintiest, most feminine woman he knew, but there was a hidden warrior inside her. Now that James was no longer around, Samson couldn’t wait to see her back to her old self. He knew it would take time, but he couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
He shoved the bag of popcorn into the microwave and was headed toward the bathroom when he heard a low thump. “Mom, are you okay?”
Had she wacked her foot on the coffee table?
“Mom?” Instead of going into the bathroom, Samson walked the rest of the way down the hallway. He froze when he stood in the archway, staring at Mr. Lumberjack. And then his gaze shifted downward. His mom was lying unmoving on the floor.
“Mom!” Her blonde hair was fanned out around her head, and she had her back to him, but if she’d been conscious, she would’ve put up a fight.
“You did this,” Cameron snarled at him. “This is all your fault.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” That was when Samson noticed the gun in the guy’s hand. He wanted to go to his mother, but she was lying at Mr. Lumberjack’s feet, and to get that close, he would have to put himself right in front of the lunatic.
Like you’re not already in front of him.
“They’re people watching this apartment,” Samson snapped. Where in the hell was the wolf that was supposed to be keeping an eye on them? Had he gone for a smoke break? Shifters were supposed to have superior smell and hearing. Why hadn’t Micah noticed Cameron before the guy had broken into their home?
“One guy,” Cameron said. “And he was easy to slip past.”
Samson cocked his head. “What did you do to him?”
“Does it matter?” Cameron stepped over Samson’s mother and moved toward him, forcing Samson to take a step back.
It did matter what had happened to Micah, but Samson shook his head. He wasn’t about to argue with a guy holding a gun. “Why do you keep coming after me? What did I ever do to you?”
Cameron swallowed, and it looked as though he was fighting back tears. His Adam's apple bobbed, and his jaw clenched as he clearly struggled to keep his composure and not break down in front of the man he intended to kill.
“You told them where to find James. You sent those men to his house to arrest him. You took him away from me, and for that, you’re gonna pay with your life.”
Samson slowly raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “He was your mate, wasn’t he?”
“He…” Cameron swallowed again. When he spoke again, his voice was a little rough. “Yes.”
“Then why did James stay with my mom?”
Cameron’s eyes narrowed. “I told him he didn’t need her money, that I would take care of him, but he said he couldn’t let his mate do that. He had to prove that he could stand on his own
two feet.”
“But he didn’t,” Samson said. “He was too comfortable with my mom—”
“Shut up!” Cameron scrubbed a fist over his head. “Just shut the fuck up!”
“How is this any of our fault?” Samson asked, unable to keep his mouth closed. “He lied to my mom and told her they were mates. He made our lives a living hell. He abused a sweet and caring woman.”
“I told him not to do that.” Cameron sounded almost apologetic. If he hadn’t tried to kill Eric more than once, Samson might’ve felt sorry for the guy. But all he wanted was for Mr. Lumberjack to go away. He also wanted him to pay for nearly killing Eric.
“This is partly your fault, too,” Samson snapped. Fire ignited inside him. His mother was lying on the floor, and this deranged bastard was holding a gun on him. Cameron had no right to blame them for what had happened. “If you had stood up to James, had put your foot down, had told us what was really going on, things might’ve turned out differently.”
“But we’re gonna change what happened,” Cameron snarled. “You’re gonna help me free James.”
“I’m gonna what?” He stared incredulously at the guy. “He’s in the underworld. That word alone should tell you breaking him out is impossible. Do you even know where it is? Because I sure as fuck don’t.”
Cameron fired the gun. Samson screamed, waiting for the pain, but it didn’t come. The guy had missed, but that didn’t stop Samson from wanting to wet himself.
“The next one will go in your head.” Cameron waved the gun. “We’re gonna walk out of here and find someone who can take us there, and if they refuse, I’ll fill you full of lead.”
Mr. Lumberjack was off his fucking rocker. He had to be insane because he had zero chances of succeeding. Was he that desperate to free James? Then again, they were mates, so Cameron would probably do anything to get to him.
Samson wasn’t heartless. He did feel for Cameron. This entire situation was truly fucked up. Cameron didn’t see any right or wrong. He didn’t care what kind of man James was. All he wanted was his mate.
And Samson felt him on that one. All he wanted was Eric. His body ached to be in his deputy’s arms, to hear his voice, and to feel their lips touching.