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The Moose Shifter's Fake Wife: A Steamy Shifter Rom-Com

Page 15

by Candace Ayers


  It was cruel. Depraved.

  I took another step back, my eyes darting frantically, scanning for a weapon. The pitchfork hung on the far wall, but it was so heavy that I struggled just using it to lift hay. I couldn’t exactly brandish it like a sword.

  “What do you want, Robert? Why are you here?” Now I was just trying to stall for time, hoping my brain would come up with a plan to get away from him. I had an idea of what he wanted. He probably wanted to kill me. With me dead, I’d never be able to prove that he was the conman responsible for swindling so many people. His guilt and my innocence would go to the grave—my grave.

  “Look at you. My, my, how you have fallen. You used to at least have a little class and grace. Now you look like you rolled around in hay and chicken feathers. Whoo!” He pinched his nose. “And cow shit.”

  I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest. “You need to leave.”

  “No.”

  I swallowed the scream that wanted to rip free from my mouth. Screaming wouldn’t do any good.

  The last time I saw Robert, he threatened my life—and almost made good on his threat. The only thing that stopped him from killing me was that he wanted something from me. But he wouldn’t say what. He just kept asking where the rest of my belongings were. Right now, based on the look on his face, I’d say he felt fine about murdering me and burying my body in the pasture.

  “I want what’s mine, Shay.”

  “You’re nothing but a criminal, a phony hustler. And newsflash, I’m not yours.”

  He threw his head back and huffed a humorless laugh. “You think it’s you I want? That’s rich. Not a chance. Been there, done that.”

  I don’t know why his words still stung, but they did. Yes, I did know why. They made me feel stupid. Stupid for not seeing the truth. Stupid for trusting him. Stupid for not trusting Clint when I’d had the chance.

  And now it was too late.

  “Then w-what do you want?” I hated how my voice quivered and cracked.

  Robert took another step closer, hands balled up at his sides. “The money, Shay. I want my money. I’ve earned it.”

  “What are you talking about? I don’t have any money.”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Shay.”

  I wasn’t playing. I honestly had no idea what he was talking about. I was nearly broke. The only money I’d ever had was my savings account, which was virtually depleted after purchasing the ranch, the truck, and feed and supplies.

  Was he talking about the money he stole? He must be, although I had no idea why he thought I had it. The last time I saw him, he kept referring to access codes for multiple bank accounts.

  What made this slimy self-centered, narcissistic, turdnugget think that money was his? He’d swindled young couples trying to make a life for themselves, hardworking men and women just trying to provide for their future retirement, the elderly who had worked hard all their lives. He stole life savings from grandmas and grandpas!

  Now I was pissed.

  “It’s not your money.” So many months of fearing him, of pain and guilt and shame, rose from deep inside and emerged as fury. “You stole that money. You’re a thief and not even a good one.”

  “Give. It. To. Me.” Robert took another step closer, hands balled up at his sides. He looked ruffled. His pants and shirt were wrinkled, with dark sweat stains around the neck and armpits. His hair was greased back but in a messy way that made the expensive haircut look sleazy and poorly done. His face was bright red and covered in sweat. And he wanted to talk about me looking and smelling bad?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have any money, and I have no idea why you think I do.”

  “The microchip, bitch. The access codes for the offshore accounts. You’ve always had them.” His hand reached out, and I stepped back to avoid him. My shoulder blades hit a hard surface. He’d walked me back so far, I was pressed against the wall—cornered.

  He reached out. I flinched. His fingertips grazed the locket dangling just below my collar bone. I slammed my fist down on the crook of his elbow and ducked to the side and away from him.

  “My locket?”

  “It’s where I hid the microchip. Right behind Daddy’s picture. I figured if anyone else found it, the fact that it was in your locket would serve to further implicate you. And you never put it together, you stupid cunt. Hand it the fuck over, Shay. I worked damn hard for that money. I earned it.”

  “Over my dead body.” Oh shit. Why’d I say that?

  “Those terms are quite acceptable to me.”

  “You’d kill me?” I already knew the answer to that.

  He shrugged as though I’d just asked if he’d squash a pesky mosquito. An icy chill snaked down my spine. Killing me had probably been his plan all along—frame me and then kill me, probably make it look like a suicide from guilt. That way there would be no loose ends left. No one would ever know the truth about his guilt or my innocence. There would be no one who might one day be able to implicate him and lead the authorities to him.

  I was going to die.

  The only question was, would it be sooner or later?

  I swallowed down my fear and lifted my chin. If I bolted, made a run for it, there was a chance I could make it out of the barn and to the house.

  “What’s it going to be, Shay? Hand over the locket or I’ll rip it off your fucking neck? Either way, it’s mine.”

  It was then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Artemis move overhead. Artemis, my mischievous, playful prankster. If Robert got a few steps closer to the barn doors, he’d be in target range.

  Artemis had been perfecting this skill. There was no doubt in my mind that the goat would do his surprise death drop on Robert. It would give me the chance I needed. I just had to keep Robert talking and get him to move into position before he noticed Artemis.

  “Why’d you do it, Robert? Why did you steal from all those innocent people and then frame me?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t go getting all holier-than-thou on me, Shay. No one is innocent in this world. The world isn’t black and white. It’s all in shades of gray, and everyone harbors their own brand of evil. I don’t lose a second of sleep over a few overly naïve dumbasses not keeping a tighter rein on their money. If it was that important to them, they wouldn’t have been so careless with it, so trusting of a stranger with it.”

  “And me? Was I just an easy mark? A naïve idiot?”

  Yes, that was exactly what you were, Shay.

  “Easy? You think it was easy for me to pretend to be in love with you? You were a means to an end. That’s all. A means to a motherfucking end. You were easy to despise—weak, cowardly, needy. That was the only thing easy about you.”

  I shook my head and slowly took another step back and to the side, just a little closer to target range. “Wow. Well, that’s honest.”

  I was only trying to keep him talking, keep him distracted, but it was then that I realized something. I’d grown stronger while living on the ranch with Clint. Clint believed in me. He taught me and pushed me and expected me to work alongside him. I knew he gave me the easier, lighter chores, but he never devalued me or made me feel as though my contribution was somehow less than his.

  Clint. If I didn’t make it out of this, I was going to miss him terribly.

  Robert took an angry step forward and scowled. One step. “You were just that stupid, I guess.”

  “No. I was that kind, that trusting. I believed in you, or who I thought you were. Turns out you were just a rabid wolf in sheep’s clothing.” I stepped back and to the side another foot.

  “Hmph. Interesting.” Another step. “Looks like this place may have hardened you up a bit, Shay. Given you a backbone. No worries. I’ll break it.”

  I laughed and stepped back another few inches. “You can try, but I don’t intend to make it easy for you.”

  Robert had apparently had enough. He took one giant stride toward me, hands reaching out like he was ready
to strangle me. In a swift, angry move, his hand wrapped around the chain of my locket and ripped it off my neck. The moment he did, though, he was in perfect range. Artemis, whose little goat eyes had been watching him like a hawk, saw the perfect shot, and he took it. He leaped off the loft, straight to his target—Robert’s head.

  Robert must have seen movement from the corner of his eye because he glanced up just in time to get a face full of one—surprisingly heavy with full momentum—little goat. He went down hard, squirming and swearing.

  I didn’t wait around to watch what happened next. I took off running full speed toward the barn doors. Just as I got on the other side of the doors, I felt Robert’s hand lodge in my hair. He yanked hard. My head flew back, and Robert tackled me to the ground. I let out the loudest scream my lungs could manage. A scream I hoped they could hear all the way in town.

  I wasn’t giving up. I may die out here today, but I would damn sure not go down without a fight. I rolled over, punched and clawed and kicked and bit Robert, lashing out in every way I could, while he tried to pin my arms to my sides.

  His face was red and veiny and contorted in anger. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as his face hovered inches above mine. He was there one second, and the next, he was gone. The weight of his body vanished.

  I blinked slowly. Twice.

  The face I saw didn’t belong to Robert.

  It was Clint’s.

  He wasn’t looking at me, though. He was staring at Robert.

  Not staring—glaring.

  “Touch her again, you’re a dead man.”

  Chapter 24

  Shay

  I climbed to my feet and stood behind Clint, my fists full of his shirt. I didn’t know how he’d managed such impeccable timing, but I’d never been more grateful to see anyone anytime ever.

  Robert wiped at his face. It was dirty, scratched, and bleeding, and he had bits of straw sticking to the mix of sweat and blood. “I know you. Sheriff Eastwood from the diner. This is a private matter, Sheriff, between me and my fiancée.”

  Clint’s body was rigid, every muscle coiled tight, ready to spring. “Shay is not your fiancée.” He reached back and put one arm around me, pulling me against his side. “She’s my wife.”

  I had to give Robert credit. He was good—as a con artist. Only the barest hint of surprise flitted over his face before he masked his features with his best poker face.

  “Ah, so you’ve been blinded by her conniving schemes too, huh?” Robert shook his head. “Sorry to hear that. Have you forgotten what I told you? That she’s wanted by federal law enforcement—a fugitive from justice?” He behaved as though he was commiserating with Clint. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Sheriff. She conned me too.”

  Clint lunged like he was going to hit Robert, but I wrapped my arms around Clint’s waist and held him tightly. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my face into his chest. Robert wasn’t worth it.

  “Clint, he has the information that will allow him access to the money he stole. It was in my locket the whole time. Hidden. I had no idea.” I glared at Robert. “He was going to kill me.”

  Clint’s was shaking with fury, and I had to hold him more tightly to keep him standing still.

  Robert was no dummy. He knew when it was time to scram. He swung on his heels and ran. No, he attempted to run. He didn’t get in a single step before his eyes bugged out and he let out a startled yelp. His expression contorted to one of horror. “What the fuck is going on in this freak town?!”

  Clint growled low in his throat and shook his head. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re not getting any money. And you’re definitely not hurting Shay. She’s under my protection.”

  I craned my head to peer around Robert and just beyond the barn doors, curious as to what had Robert looking as though he’d just seen a ghost.

  The sight had my eyes widening as well. Never had I ever seen such a strange, incredible, marvelous, heartwarming sight. There were moose, bison, wolves, bobcats, bears, several large birds, even a rhinoceros—hundreds of animals were lined up outside, encircling the barn.

  I knew instantly who they were.

  The townsfolk of Rattlesnake Canyon.

  “W-what the hell am I looking at?” Robert’s fists clutched his hair. His voice was high pitched and frantic.

  “You’re looking at my backup, asshole.” Clint still looked as though he wanted to tear Robert’s head off his neck, so I kept my arms wrapped around him.

  Robert was standing, mouth agape one minute, and the next, Frida’s fist was in his face. I didn’t see where she came from, but she was stark naked.

  Robert’s eyes rolled back in his head. He swayed, then went down—a crumpled heap on the ground. Frida stared down and grinned at the man she’d just coldcocked with seemingly no effort. Badass.

  To add insult to injury, Artemis, who must have climbed back up into the loft, jumped down again on top of the pile that was Robert and shouted a few happy little bleats that I found incredibly endearing.

  Frida grinned at Artemis and patted him on the head. “You did good, little goat. You gave him hell. He’ll wear those battle wounds on his face for a while.”

  Only then, when Robert was knocked out and on the ground, did I feel safe releasing Clint. Except when I let go, I discovered that I hadn’t been the only one holding on. He’d been holding me. Tightly. And he wouldn’t loosen his grip. “It’s okay, Clint. I’m fine.”

  Still, he neither released me nor loosened his grip. Stroking my hair, he growled against the top of my head. When I managed to pull away slightly and get a good look at him, Clint’s eyes were wild, crazed. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. He just held me tightly and shook.

  When Frida noticed, she touched my arm, only to have Clint snarl at her. “Take him inside and just stay close to him until he calms down. He’s fighting a fierce animal instinct to lash out and kill the man who threatened his mate. You might want to wash all traces of the asshole’s scent off you too. That’s not helping any.”

  I nodded and gently walked Clint away from the barn, up the steps to the front door, and then inside. He was still holding me tightly as I led us into the small bathroom. Because he wouldn’t let go, even for us to undress, I walked us both under the stream of hot water fully dressed.

  Clint finally released his grip, but he braced his hands on the wall behind me, caging me, and his head fell to rest on my shoulder. I kept my arms around him.

  “I’m okay, Clint. I’m okay and you’re okay.” I stroked his back and pressed kisses to his neck, jaw, face, and lips. “Look at me. Not a scratch on me.”

  He growled as, finally, he leaned back and looked me over. His hand caught my chin and tilted my face up to his, his eyes full of unspoken emotion.

  I nodded and stretched up to kiss him. “I’m so sorry, Clint. I’m so sorry I lied. I thought I had to stay silent about it. I wanted to tell you. I wanted your help, but I was scared.”

  He closed his eyes, let out a long exhale, and pressed his forehead to mine. His words, when he finally spoke, came out coarse and gravelly and barely human. “No more secrets. No more lies.”

  “No more secrets. No more lies,” I agreed. “Even though I lied, you still came to save me. Thank you.”

  Clint seemed to have gotten a handle on his emotions somewhat because he tore at my wet clothes, ripping them from my body. “I will always come to save you. You are my wife. I love you.”

  My heart melted. I hadn’t lost him. He loved me.

  After Clint removed my clothes, he made quick work of his own. He ran his hands down my body and gripped my ass in his large hands, easily lifting me so I could wrap my legs around his waist. He stared into my eyes, his still slightly wild. “From now on, you best remember that you are my wife—for real, and in every sense of the word. We are spending the rest of our lives together, Shay.”

  Our relationship may have started with lies and false pretenses, but I loved this man wi
th all my heart. Lies or no lies, he’d proven I could trust him when it counted and in the way that mattered.

  So, when he moved so that our bodies lined up, I angled my hips and he slid into me in one hard stroke. I shuddered.

  My arms locked around him and my head fell back against the shower wall. Our coupling was fast and hard. He needed to feel me, to know that I was real, and I wanted him to take exactly what he needed. I held him, kissing his neck and shoulders as he growled against my ear. When the water turned cold, he stepped out of the shower without releasing me and pushed my back against the bathroom wall. He adjusted his grip slightly, but he never stopped his pounding rhythm.

  This was sex with a clear purpose. It was sex to affirm life, to seal a bond, and to claim one another.

  Too fast, too wild, but so right.

  His hand moved between us and his thumb circled me in the perfect spot. In seconds, we both screamed and panted our release. I left fingernail scratches on his back. He left fingertip bruises on my ass.

  Clint and I still had a lot to discuss.

  I didn’t think he’d let me out of his sight long enough to get dressed, and I was right. We didn’t dress. We lay in bed skin to skin and talked all night long. About everything.

  No more secrets. No more lies.

  Chapter 25

  Clint

  Shay’s exoneration came quickly.

  Once Robert Rosemont was in custody, his complete confession spilled out of him like water through a sieve. The man was terrified of the Variants returning in their animal forms. I may have fibbed a little and told him the large animals were trained to obey my every command, including tearing him to shreds if he didn’t tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  There were several hundred residents of Rattlesnake Canyon that would swear they were witness to Robert’s confession, and he spilled everything, even stuff he’d done in the past that had no connection to this particular case.

 

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