Chapter Four
Ginny watched Jaxon walk over to his Harley. The muscles across his broad shoulders flexed with each step he took, reminding her how powerful he really was underneath that cotton T-shirt. She remembered how it felt to be wrapped up in his arms, held against his chest. It was the safest place in the world. She’d not felt like that in a thousand years.
She studied his motorcycle. It was shiny chrome with hints of red painted on the gas tank and the fenders. It was a far cry from the ’69 Mustang he’d driven her around in when they were younger.
He’d gone from a motorhead to a badass biker.
As if feeling her eyes on him, he turned and looked over his shoulder. When he realized she wasn’t following him, he shot her a glare.
“Come on.” His tone was hard, and even from this distance she could see the muscle twitching in his cheek.
“I’m not going with you.” She clasped her shaking hands together and glanced around. They might look like they were out here alone, but it didn’t feel like they were alone. John always had eyes everywhere.
Jaxon rubbed the back of his neck and studied the ground. “I don’t have time to argue with you, Ginny. We’ve got to leave now.” His voice was even and calm, but she could still hear the anger concealed just under the surface, waiting for its chance to burst through.
She shook her head and swallowed. “I can’t go with you.” If she did, would be a death sentence.
He let out a string of colorful curses, words she’d never heard him say in front of her, and headed in her direction.
His face was a storm of dark emotions. She’d seen that look before. She’d seen it on John’s face right before his hand would strike her.
She took a step back and cringed.
“Do you think I would hit you?” Hurt flashed through his eyes, and he propped his hands on his hips and stared.
She swallowed back her fear. She hated herself in that moment. She’d hated what she’d become. Scared and unsure. She never used to be either of those things.
“Tell me, Ginny. When did I ever hit you?” His stare hardened.
“Never.” She lifted her chin.
“You don’t get the right to be mad at me. I’m the one who gets to be mad. I’m the one you destroyed,” he said.
And I’m paying for it every day of my life.
“I’m not mad at you, Jaxon.” She forced her arms to relax at her side and held his gaze.
“Well, you don’t look exactly happy.” He folded his arms over his chest.
“My car is stolen. I have no way to get home.” She narrowed her gaze. “You’d be a little put out if that happened to you.”
“I wouldn’t be put out. I’d be fucking pissed.” He arched his brow.
She snorted and then bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“Ah, see. There’s a glimmer of the girl I once knew.” A slight smile played at the corners of his beautiful lips.
She shook her head and let the smile go. “No, that girl is gone.” She’d been gone a long time.
He opened his mouth and looked like he wanted to say something. But then he shrugged and looked over his shoulder at his bike.
“Well, we both need to find that witch. She has your car, and I need to take her in.” He looked back at her. “Go inside the bar and call someone to pick you up.”
The flesh on the back of her neck crawled. She couldn’t go inside and call John. She was looking at a punishment as it was for being late getting home. But if she told him her car had been stolen, that punishment would be a thousand times worse.
“Do you really think you can catch her?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” She walked past him toward the Harley. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Jaxon shook his head and followed Ginny over to his bike. He didn’t get women. Honest to God, he didn’t know what made a woman tick.
First she was mad as hell to see him. Then she acted like she expected him to beat her. Now she was standing by his bike, wanting to go with him.
Something was up. Once they got the witch secured and on her way back to Mississippi, he was going to have a one-on-one talk with Ginny and get to the bottom of things.
He strode over to the bike. He wished he had a helmet for her, but he didn’t wear one.
“Your hair’s going to get all messed up.” He smirked. In her white pants and pink shirt, she looked like a Harley was the last place she belonged. “Need a bandana?”
“Yes.” She sighed and fashioned the material around her head.
“I’m ready now.” She held his gaze.
He fought a smile. She didn’t look like she belonged on a Harley, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.
He straddled his bike and waited for her get on.
Her hands rested on his shoulders as she climbed on behind him. His heart sped up, and his muscles tensed at her warm touch.
Despite all she’d done to him, he still wanted her in the most carnal of ways.
Sometimes being a werewolf was a bitch.
He started the engine and the bike roared to life. He never got tired of hearing that sound.
He pulled out of the dusty parking lot, turned onto the road, and increased his speed.
Her hands slid from his shoulders to his waist. She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight as they raced down the back roads of Arkansas.
The sun was fading fast. Soon they would lose daylight. He had no idea where the witch could be headed or how far she’d gone. The only thing he could go by was his heightened sense of smell and his gut instinct.
He approached a four-way intersection and stopped. The land was flat and each direction was surrounded by rice fields.
Ginny leaned closer to her ear. “She went to the right.”
“How do you know?” He frowned and shot her a look over his shoulder.
“I have a tracker on my phone.” She held up her cell phone.
“Why the hell didn’t you say that before we pulled out of the parking lot?”
“You seemed to know where you were going. Besides, you didn’t ask.” She smirked.
He faced the road.
She thought she wasn’t the same girl. But her last comment had proven something.
Ginny was there. She was just hidden under a whole lot of makeup and bruises.
* * *
“What’s been going on, Granny?” Ava tried to keep her tone casual as she looked at the older woman over the magazine she’d picked up and pretended to read. Ever since the Valentine Day disaster where Granny had gone on a blind date with a fugitive, everyone near the old woman had been keeping a close eye on her to make sure she didn’t get into any more trouble.
Granny put down her knitting and gave Ava a hard stare.
“Ava, I know what you’re doing, and it’s not working.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes widened and she blinked.
“You want to know if I’ve had another date since Valentine’s Day.” She narrowed her wise old eyes and pursed her lips. “You’ve been staring at me over that magazine you’re holding upside down for the past fifteen minutes.”
She frowned and glanced down at the magazine. Granny was right. She’d been holding the magazine upside down.
She threw the magazine on the coffee table and sank back on the couch.
“Fine. You’re going to make me beg. I’m not above begging, you know.” She gave Granny her best puppy dog eyes.
“No kidding.” Granny studied the ceiling before looking back at her.
“Well? Have you had any more dates?” Ava sat up.
“You’re too nosy for your own good, Ava,” Granny scolded.
“Says the pot to the kettle.” Ava smirked.
“Fine, sassy pants.” Granny sighed and relaxed back in her favorite green-and-white upholstered chair.
“After Valentine’s Day”—she narrowed her eyes—“I didn’t get back on that dating site. Sounded like a whole lotta fruitcakes on there.” She shook her head in disapproval. “My curiosity finally got the better of me the other day so I went and checked on my profile, you know, just for kicks and giggles.”
“And?” Ava leaned forward.
“I had four hundred hits.” She frowned. “Is that what you call it? Hits?” She cringed. “Sounds like doing drugs.”
“Holy crap, Granny! Four hundred? That’s a hella lot.”
“Language, Ava.” Granny pursed her lips together.
“Sorry. But seriously, that’s lot of responses.” Ava said. “Are you going to go out with any of them?”
“I don’t know. I read most of them and they all seem so… needy. Like they are looking for a wife. I’m not looking for a husband. Just some companionship from time to time.”
“Like a booty call?” Ava giggled.
“Really, Ava? I don’t need a man for that with all the merchandise I can get my hands on,” Granny deadpanned.
Ava barked out a laugh.
Granny sold adult toys and made damn good money too. She wouldn’t tell anyone exactly what she made, but Ava knew it was in the six figures.
“So are you going to answer any of them?”
“Probably not. I still can’t shake the one who lent me his RV.” Granny frowned. “I returned that thing in one piece, and he still had the nerve to call me a tease. He had no idea I was in deep cover.”
Ava bit back a grin. Granny had showed up in New Orleans and saved Barrett and his Guardians after Lucien had been captured and tortured. Granny had managed to commandeer an RV from an older gentleman who’d offered it in exchange for a little romantic time with Granny. Needless to say, Granny did not hold up her end of the bargain. She’d taken the RV, rescued the Arkansas Guardians, and driven them to safety. Barrett had returned the RV to the man so she didn’t have to see him again. But he was a persistent gentleman and had found her home phone number and left message after message.
“Seriously, if he’s bothering you, let Jayden or Damon take care of it.” Ava sat back in the couch and studied the old woman.
“I don’t need anyone to take care of it. I’ve got a concealed carry. I’ll shoot him right in the pecker if he dares to show up here.” She crossed her skinny arms across her chest. “I told him that too. I think he liked it. Seems like he’s into that BDSM stuff.”
Ava frowned. She wouldn’t classify shooting a man in the dick as the same as BDSM, but she wasn’t about to argue with Granny. She knew she’d never win.
“You and the boys should come over for dinner Friday night.” Granny relaxed. “I can make a pot roast. I know that Lucien is fully recovered from his injuries. We’ve haven’t had a proper dinner since all that happened in Louisiana.”
“I don’t know who all is in town. I know that Damon and Jayden have been working surveillance for Barrett. He won’t tell me where he is or what’s he’s doing.” Ava frowned. “It’s very irritating.”
“Hmm. It probably has something to do with Louisiana.” Granny raised her eyebrows.
“That’s what I thought.” After finding out that Louisiana had been behind the attacks on Arkansas Guardians, Barrett had been very close-lipped about what action he was going to take next.
“I’m not so sure I want to know this time.” Granny’s voice was but a whisper. Her eyes crinkled on the sides as she frowned.
“What do you mean? If Barrett gathers enough intel on Louisiana, won’t he just bring it before the other Southern Pack Masters?”
“It’s not that simple, Ava,” Granny said. “I’ve seen a lot of Pack Masters come and go. The bad ones always outlast the good ones. I’m concerned what kind of retribution Barrett will face if he pursues this.”
“But that’s not right. Louisiana can’t just commit a crime like that and get away with it.” The heat rose in Ava’s face.
“Life isn’t always fair, honey.”
“Well, I trust Barrett and I know that he always gets what he wants. He’s been the best Pack Master I’ve ever met. He won’t let us down, Granny. That I can promise you.”