I’m not taking Brady’s warnings lightly. Threats to our lives come from all sides, making it hard to trust anyone. But sitting in the house all day and night, waiting to see if something happens, is ridiculous. A quick run shouldn’t be a problem. It’ll relax me and help me think.
Stepping off the back porch, my mind already starts clearing as I inhale the crisp night air. I yank my T-shirt over my head and shove my yoga pants down my legs. If those weren’t my favorite comfortable pants, I would have let them shred. Either way, there are more clothes tucked away nearby.
Before my foot hits the cool grass, my gut twists while sweat drips off my forehead. Bones snap and muscles stretch. My breathing saws in and out as I drop to my knees. My wolf bares her teeth and pushes forth. Darkness shrouds any remaining fragment of human thought as I sprint toward the woods.
Hungry and thirsty, I turn around. The tall trees creak and groan as they sway in the breeze. Something cracks in the distance. My pointed ears twist back and forth, attempting to identify the source. Probably just rats or some other vermin rooting around in the underbrush. No need for concern. I continue the trek toward home.
As I get closer to the watertight box buried in the ground, the fur recedes, and I’m walking upright again. Something’s not right though. The dirt is disturbed, and there are footprints leading away from it. I stoop down, lift the lid, and find the container empty. Who the hell stole my clothes?
Dead pine needles and twigs crunch. Something reeks, but it’s not me. Sniffing the air, I detect something akin to burnt rubber mixed with garlic and rotten eggs. Slowly, I stand. I know that odor, and the beast it belongs to. Question is, what is he doing here?
The rank bandit steps out of the shadows. My clothes, including the ones I left at the house, are in his grubby hands. “Looking for these?”
If I were human, I’d waste seconds panicking about being naked. Thankfully, shifters are only half human. My nudity has never been an issue for me, but I’d prefer it if Calhoun Ryder wouldn’t ogle me like I’m on fucking display.
“News flash, Cal. You’re too big for my things. You’ll have to shop somewhere else to fulfill your cross-dressing needs.”
He eyes me for a moment longer like he doesn’t understand English. Come to think of it, that might be a real possibility. Ryders aren’t the smartest cats in the cattery. Seconds pass before recognition dawns, and Calhoun roars with laughter.
“Oh, you got jokes. Good one.”
Folding my arms over my breasts, I tap my foot on the ground. “Glad you enjoyed it. Keep the clothes. I have more.” This fool is holding up progress. I need to pee and get something to eat and drink. In that order.
As I step forward, Calhoun grabs my upper arm. “Not so fast. You and me are going to have a little heart-to-heart.”
My gaze travels from his face to his hand on my flesh. “If you don’t want me to break it, get your damned mitt off me.”
Calhoun, ignoring my warning, leans into me. Hot, stale breath like an overflowing latrine scorches my face. “Here’s a news flash for you. You’re going to do anything and everything I tell you to do.”
I don’t know which is worse—smelling this fool from a distance or up close and personal. Through clenched teeth, I ask, “Why’s that?”
“Because if you don’t, my friends will fuck up your pretty little sister. When they’re done partying…” Calhoun tightens his grip. His claws surface and poke my skin. Warmth cascades down my arm as blood slowly pours from the wound. “I’ll make sure you get to watch as they rip her throat out.”
I stare at the were-panther. “My sister isn’t in town.”
“Nice try.” Calhoun’s mouth twists into a smile. He calls over his shoulder. “The wolf needs proof!”
The back door tears open, and a muscular moron lumbers onto the porch. Struggling at his side is Tia. Her eyes bulge with fright. Wrapped around her neck is a metal collar. Magic, dark and deadly, reaches out to me from within the band. I’m sure it’s keeping Tia from shifting. How did they get her away from Brian?
I won’t endanger my sister. It’ll take some time to figure a way out of this, but I will. Swallowing hard, my gaze returns to Calhoun. “What the hell do you want?”
He continues eyeballing me. “To take away everything and everyone the Romeros hold dear.”
What the hell does that mean?
Another one of Calhoun’s brutes approaches us. He hesitates for a moment, giving me an elevator glance, before snapping a collar around my neck. “We’re good to go, boss.”
What is it with these damn fools? They all act like they’ve never seen a naked female before.
“Cal, you must have a death wish. Brady’s going to rip you apart and bury you so far deep you’ll land in Hell.”
He ignores me and shouts out, “Let’s go!”
Long minutes pass as the Ryders transport us to wherever it is we’re headed. Still nude, I sit in a corner of the van. Chains secure my feet to a raised metal rod in the floor. Another set of chains keep my hands attached to the sides of the vehicle. Tia isn’t with me. Instead, I have Calhoun for company. Thankfully, the van isn’t airtight. Otherwise, I’d pass out from the stench.
“Why do this, Cal?”
Crouching beside me, Calhoun runs a chubby finger alongside my jaw. “You know the answer, but I’ll play along. Your boyfriend and his family robbed from us.”
“Brady’s not my boyfriend. Remember, we broke up?”
“That’s what you want everyone to believe. We both know that’s not true.” He leers at me. His light-colored eyes rake over my nakedness. Suddenly, I want a bath.
I try to put more space between us, but there’s no place to move to. “What did the Romeros steal from you?”
Calhoun holds his fist up. He flashes a thick finger. “First, the Romeros hid that bastard who killed my brother.”
Is this fool serious? Did he forget what happened? “And Jackson killed Hank’s sister. Tit for tat.”
“Ha! Ha! Tits!”
The buffoon is so fucking immature.
He holds up a second finger. “That same bastard killed my father.”
Cocking my head to one side, I say, “How are you going to blame the Romeros for that one?”
“If they hadn’t hid the asshole, he’d be dead, and my father would be alive.”
The Ryders are the real assholes. They can’t seem to understand that everything happened because they initiated it.
If Jackson hadn’t beaten his wife…
If Elijah hadn’t sought revenge…
Both males would be alive today. End of story.
“Third…” Calhoun holds up a third finger. “Brady Romero took what should be mine!”
Those last words snap me out of my thoughts. “Excuse you?”
Calhoun points that finger, with dirt beneath the nail, into my cleavage. “He took you from me.”
It’s confirmed. Calhoun Delroy Ryder is certifiable. “Since you’re fond of countdowns, here’s one for you. One, I’m not anyone’s goddamned property. Two, you never stood a chance with me. Not when we were in high school and not now. Three, I was not and still am not interested in your fucking ass. And here’s the last one! Pay attention!” I take a deep breath and exhale. “There is no competition between you and Brady. I. Don’t. Screw. Cats!” I spit in Calhoun’s face to punctuate my point.
A resounding crack echoes around the van as Calhoun’s hand connects with my cheek. My face stings and tears surface. I hold my chin high. No tears. No weakness.
“Lucky for you,” he says. “I don’t discriminate!”
We ride for so long that I lose track of time, but I’m guessing we’re outside of Falls Creek. As the van door slams behind me, I take in the surroundings. I breathe a small sigh of relief, realizing we haven’t left town. We’re at the waterfront. An abandoned apartment building sits near the water’s edge. Behind us is the highway overpass.
What took so damned long to get here?
A breeze blows off the water, and goosebumps pepper my flesh. Calhoun pushes me toward the building. Broken glass cuts into my soles. I stumble. My captor grabs my elbow and steadies me.
“Can’t you walk?”
“If you had given me my damned clothes and shoes, this would be easier,” I bark.
“Quit your bitchin’ and go on!”
We enter the decrepit building, and I’m greeted with smells that make the Ryder stench almost bearable. Urine, stale cigarettes, and alcohol permeate the air. Bile shoots up my throat without warning. Calhoun moves just in time as puke lands next to his boot. I lift my shackled wrists and wipe at my mouth.
He grumbles something unintelligible and drags me into a room. In the center of it is a human version of an exercise pen for animals—chain-link fencing in an octagonal design without a roof. Calhoun inserts a key into a padlock and opens a rusty, mesh door.
“Inside.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I say, refusing to go in there.
I take a long look at the oversized cage’s interior. A thin, soiled mattress is in one corner with a bowl meant for a dog beside it. Protruding from the center of the floor is a U-shaped piece of metal embedded in the concrete. An exceedingly long chain is wrapped around it.
“Do you see a smile?”
When I don’t move, Calhoun pushes me in. He attaches the cuffs on my wrists to the chain. “Play nice, and I might reward you.”
“With what?”
He grabs his crotch and winks at me.
“No thanks.” Not knowing what’s on the mattress, I choose to remain standing. I calculate the distance between Cal and me. If he’d move just a little closer, I could drop a well-placed kick.
As if he knows what I’m thinking, he stays near the door. “Might as well get comfortable. You’re gonna be here for a while.”
“How about my clothes or at least a blanket?”
Calhoun leaves the enclosure. He walks toward a darkened corner and returns with a ratty, gray blanket. He tosses it on the mattress. “There you go. I’ll be back.”
“You’re leaving me here?” I say with an incredulous stare.
Before I can protest, Calhoun quickly crosses the floor and crashes his chapped lips against mine. His tongue traces the seam of my mouth, but I refuse to open it. The smell of him mixed with the odor in this room is sickening. When I gag, Calhoun breaks off the kiss.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. After a while you’ll be craving me. All females do.”
“I’ll die first.”
“That can be arranged.” He slaps my butt before walking out. He removes the padlock from his pocket and slams it shut on the gate. The dim light bulb over my head goes out.
Right about now, I sincerely regret not performing the bonding ceremony with Brady. If I bore his mark, he’d easily find me. None of this would have happened. Reluctantly, I go over to the mattress and sit down, doing my best to put the blanket around me. When this is over, I’m going to need an extended soak in a tub of piping hot water. A piece of steel wool wouldn’t hurt.
Poor Tia. I can only imagine what she’s going through. She has no idea why the Ryders dragged her into this. Suddenly it dawns on me that we do have hope. Tia and Brian are bonded. That supernatural GPS will kick in, and we’ll be found. It’s just a matter of time.