How can one intense moment of pure beauty turn into such horrific nothingness so quickly?
In the blink of an eye, everything I ever knew about my life has been shattered into a thousand pieces.
Atticus.
He ruined everything.
As soon as the words left his mouth, I ran to my room in nothing but the blanket he’d wrapped me so lovingly in. The proof of our coupling running in rivulets down my legs.
Lord, I should hate this man who’s tossed my life into a meat grinder. I should resent him. I can’t. Everything in me screams he’s the good guy even though he’s oh so incredibly bad.
My mother had always said that my father passed away shortly after I was born. There were pictures of them, us, for goodness sake! She’d insisted he was such a great man. She set him up on such a high pedestal meant only for the Gods that this makes much more sense. She wanted me to have the picture of goodness in my heart for the man who sired me. Not some twisted son of a bitch who raised psychopaths.
It’s all so confusing, not knowing what image to trust. The one my mother gave me of perfection or the one Atticus is telling me of mayhem. So many secrets are being revealed. The lies are building like brick walls.
After a night of tossing and turning, I’m up before the sun and dressed. I need to be outside. Physical labor has always helped clear my mind.
Quietly, I make my way out to the living area. Seeing Atticus asleep on the couch with the kittens on his bare chest, I smile. It’s the iconic picture of tough love. East and West always sleep by my side, but this morning, they’re on the floor by my lover’s feet.
As soon as they hear me, they’re up and waiting by the door as I pull on my boots and parka. The bitter cold from the wind and continuous snow falling pierces my clothes as I step outside.
Even realizing I shouldn’t be out here, that the frigid temperatures could give me frostbite, doesn’t stop my forward momentum as I head towards the shed. We powered through a lot of the wood from the porch yesterday, and I know we’ll need more before the storm passes completely.
With the heavy snowfall, the sun still tries to peak out and give just enough warmth from its rays to make the task at hand bearable. East and West are dashing through the trees as they play in the snow. To a stranger, they’re acting like regular dogs, but to me, they’re doing what I trained them to do. Being out in the wilderness with no one around leaves a person vulnerable to predators—as yesterday proved with Charles—so not only are the dogs running around, they’re sniffing for foreign scents. Searching for things that shouldn’t be there.
Until Atticus showed up, I hadn’t had any issues. Now, as I haul the wood to the block, I see them weaving in crisscrossed patterns that allude to some presence.
Whistling, neither of them look up. Tension enters my frame as I slowly walk back to the shed for my shotgun. “I’ll take that, little lamb,” Atticus growls from behind me as he guides me towards the house. “Inside, now. We’ll talk about you sneaking out once I’m done.”
I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to the fact that it’s hot as hell watching the way he prowls into the woods with gun in hand. Deadly intent in the way he moves.
Rushing to the porch, I stand behind one pillar as I observe from a distance while Atticus follows slowly behind East and West as they search for the source of the trail they’ve picked up. He’s alert in a way only a predator knows how to be. He’s ready for the strike to come swiftly so that he can be the one to kill.
Atticus is the man all others fear, and yet, I trust.
I do…trust him. He’s had plenty of chances to end my life; however, he’s done nothing but enhance the way I see the world. Even being the bearer of bad news, I feel his sincerity in the way he looks at me.
I know in my heart of hearts that even with his sinister ways and deathly moves, he won’t harm me.
“Catalina!” His rough voice startles me into nearly slipping on the icy steps. “Get your ass inside, now!” I can feel his glare from here as he watches me.
I don’t know what his deal is, but I don’t feel the danger he obviously does, so I step towards the door just as the dogs start barking erratically.
I turn, and my heart stops in my chest. There, just ten feet in front of him, is a small pack of wolves. They scrutinize with teeth bared as East and West growl and bark, trying their best to scare the wild beasts off.
“Catalina, inside,” Atticus shouts once again.
“I can’t leave you!” I call back to him, but he’s not even watching me. His sight is set on the animals in front of him.
Clear as a bell. Directly in front of me, I can see the loss of my whole life if I don’t do something.
I need an object that will scare them. Rushing inside, I run to the cabinet in the bathroom with my emergency supplies. Finding the flare gun, I slip back out the front door and around to the back of the cabin. Taking aim, I can only pray I don’t hit a tree and set the mountain on fire.
Seeing the creatures posing in a standoff with Atticus holding the shotgun steady, ready to take a shot with any movement, I aim the gun close to the wolves’ feet and fire. The whistling sound as the flare whooshes across the open field seems slow until it hits its peak and flashes bright. East and West startle but don’t move. Atticus turns his deadly glare on me, but the wolves scatter back into the trees. A sigh of relief blows past my lips as I see all traces of them gone.
“What the fuck did I tell you?” Atticus stomps over to me, giving the dogs a hand command to stand guard. “Did I tell you to get the fuck inside, Catalina?”
I don’t care how mad he is right now. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if I stood by and did nothing. On weightless legs, I run to him. “You’re okay,” I say as I jump in his arms. He catches me with one hand around my waist, the other still holding the shotgun. “You’re okay,” I repeat, kissing along his neck and jaw. I need to feel him, to know he’s not a figment of my imagination. The adrenaline running rampant through my system has me reckless, and I know it.
“What the fuck, Catalina?” Even through his anger, I hear his worry.
“I’m okay, too, Atticus.” Gripping his face in both of my hands, I crash my mouth on his as he holds me tighter.
“Don’t you ever fucking ignore me like that again, little lamb.” He controls the actions, our movements, how deep the kiss goes. I’m just along for the wild ride. “Get your ass in that house and fucking stay there.” He drops me to my feet and waits until I’m inside before I see him head back to where West and East are standing stoically in the pelting snow.
It isn’t until I see him bend down and pull something from the ground that I let worry filter into my thoughts.
Atticus
If I weren’t so fucking enamored with Catalina, I’d throttle her sweet little ass for ignoring my directive. The slightest possibility of her being in danger had my heart attempting to rip free from my chest.
The wolves weren’t in the wrong. They had the blood scent in their noses and were following their instincts. I’d have only shot if it turned out to be necessary.
Some sick fuck left fresh meat buried just beneath a thin surface of the snow, and we’re lucky it hadn’t brought a bear around, too.
McCray is here. I’m positive of that more now than yesterday when I sent Manning looking for the bastard. I need to get Cat off this damn mountain sooner rather than later. The biggest problem hindering that is the storm we’re trapped in. She has a four-wheel drive truck that could make it in an ordinary storm, but Alaska is a whole other type of weather phenomenon. They’re bigger, deeper, more dangerous than in the lower 48.
“Fucking hell.” Both dogs look at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Home,” I snap. I need to do a more thorough inspection of the perimeter before I head back. I have to check in with King, find out what the fuck is going on and see if Cas can get his sniper-ass up here. He’d have a better shot at nailing this bastard from a distance than I would.
I just want fucking peace. Is that so goddamned much to ask for? I’ve spent the better part of the past 15 years fighting for one thing or another and now that I have something, someone, that is wholly mine, some son of a bitch wants to take that away from me.
“McCray! You scared little weasel, show your fucking face!” Even yelling into the woods, I know he won’t. He likes to wait to strike when you aren’t prepared. He likes thinking he has the upper hand. Yet, on multiple occasions, we’ve shown him he doesn’t and never will have it.
We’ve got him beat, and he knows it. He’s scrambling now. There isn’t a hole big enough on this earth for him to hide in that we won’t find.
Catalina is the last straw. She’s mine, and I won’t let a fucking thing happen to her. Over my dead body will his filthy hands touch her.
Marching back to the cabin, I see her in the window watching me. Her gaze follows my every step as I increase my pace. Wanting out of this snow before I freeze to death, I stomp up the steps as she opens the door.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” She doesn’t need to say his name. I nod. “There’s more I don’t know about him, them, isn’t there?”
“Yeah, lamb, there’s a lot more.” Lying won’t do the woman any good. She needs to be aware of the family she comes from.
“Tell me everything.” I’m not sure she’s ready for that one yet.
“You’ll want to sit down for this.” I nod towards the couch. She sits as I remove my coat and boots. Shaking the snow from my hair, I walk towards the fireplace and begin staking the wood I’d brought in the night before. “McCray wants the Adair Empire,” I begin as embers spark in the fireplace. “He thought he could send some lackey in to spy on us.” I look over my shoulder at her. “He thought wrong. At every turn, we showed him he was fucking with the wrong men.”
She sits, rapt attention on me. “When he took Lilith from King, he waged a personal war. It was no longer just about our dealings and what he wanted. He took the queen. I doubt he knew what she was when he did, but by the time King was finished with his men, they knew. Lilith is the one who keeps King in check. With the flick of a finger, she can take a life as quickly as she can spare one.”
I notice from the look on her face that she doesn’t know whether to be horrified or envious. “I assume she’s okay now?”
“Physically, sure. She still has nightmares, scars she’ll bear the rest of her life. But she’s gained her power back.” I pause to recline next to her on the couch. “When we discovered Timothy, we had no idea what they were into, how long they’d been here in the U.S.” I really don’t want to tell her this next part. “You have a niece, a year younger than you. Though not by blood, I suppose. Ariel and her mother were kidnapped when she was just a baby. When Luther found her, she was about to jump off a cliff.”
“Suicide?” She gasps, and I see tears brimming again.
“Ariel is an innocent soul. She’s one who should be bathed in light. Timothy shrouded her in dark. Buried everything good about her by forcing her to watch the atrocities of their organization. He made her participate in handing over children to men who meant them harm.”
“Oh, my god.”
“That doesn’t even touch the worst of it. Thomas disappeared in the bayou with plans to sell one of our adversaries’ daughters for a hefty chunk. When Castiel got his hands on her, they ran. Cas got pissed when they thought to leave her in the swamp for death. He lit her father on fire—alive. It was an incredibly spectacular display of ownership on his part.” I can’t hide my pleasure in remembrance of that day.
“That’s horrific.”
“Not for all that bastard has done it’s not. Talia is a fighter. She did not go down without a battle. In fact, she’s still swinging. Between her and Ariel, they’re tracking Thomas’ movements from the past few years to find out anything we don’t already know.”
“Like me?”
“Like you. Though one of his minions spilled the beans about you. Timothy even had his man Dimitri up here watching you at one point.”
“What’s happened to him?”
I’m so absorbed in the deaths that I forget for a moment that they are her brothers, her family. “Timothy’s dead. Carver had his wicked way with him, and as soon as I get my hands on Thomas, he will be, too. The world is better off without them in it.”
“Excuse me.”
It isn’t until I hear the water running in the bathroom that I realize what I’ve done.
“Fuck. Atticus, you fucking moron.”
“Open the door, lamb.” My words are soft as I hear her light sobbing. The knob turns, and I slowly push my way into the small room as she blows her nose, tears freely falling.
“I know they’re bad men. They deserve everything they’ve gotten for what they’ve done. But I didn’t know I had them, and suddenly, they’re gone.”
“You have a sweet heart, lamb, but try to remember Thomas isn’t here out of the goodness of his heart. You are the last remaining member in his family, the only link to your mother. He holds bitterness towards you, not love. If he gets his hands on you, I shudder to think what he’ll do. What I’ll have to do to get you back.”
Pulling her from the room, I cradle her in my arms as she cries for the family she never got to know. For the mother she lost and the remaining brother that will be taken away.
“Once this storm has passed, I’ll get this figured out. I’ll keep you safe, Catalina.” She only nods.