Her Mountain Lion Mate
Summer Donnelly
“Are you sure you don’t need me to drive you to school, Tammy?”
Nineteen-year-old Tamara Brennan didn’t even look up from her suitcase. She had a perfectly good name. Why her mother insisted on shortening it, Tamara didn’t understand. “I graduated from high school and turned nineteen last week. I think I can handle driving myself to school, Mother.”
“Well, if you hadn’t missed a year.” Adele let her voice drift off. Anger burned in Tamara. Adele knew damn well why she’d missed a year of school.
“I know you’re old enough,” Adele continued. “But what will people think if your mother isn’t there?” Adele Brennan wandered around her daughter’s room, picking up small items and replacing them.
Tamara hid her flinch. Always worried about what people thought about her. Never at all worried about the truth or protecting her daughter. “No one in the school will even know me to think badly of you.”
Adele picked up a picture frame and examined it. Tamara swallowed nervously. Would Adele remember what picture had lived in that frame until a year ago? Trying to control her emotions, Tamara looked around her bedroom one last time. Devoid of additional pictures, accolades, or artwork of any kind, she still felt melancholy at the prospect of leaving.
“He’s dead, you know.” The vehemence in Adele’s voice no longer had the power to shock Tamara.
Apparently, she did remember what was in that frame. “Yes, Mother,” Tamara said, imbuing her voice with a calmness she didn’t feel. Nothing good could come from arguing with Adele. She’d learned that a long time ago and, in a place, far, far away.
Only someone else had paid the ultimate price.
“I did the right thing all those years ago. I had no idea what Mr. Elliot was doing to you. You didn’t tell.”
Tamara clenched her fists. Because you didn’t want to know, Tamara thought. She was sure her thoughts were broadcast across her face, but Adele didn’t comment on it.
“You’re taking your winter clothes?”
“School runs until mid-December, Mother. I’m sure I’ll need my sweaters and things by then.”
“You aren’t coming home for Thanksgiving?”
Nervously, Tamara bit her lip. “Just in case of a cold snap” she deferred. One by one, Tamara loaded up her car. Computer, clothing, and photos. She had zero plans of ever returning to her mother’s house.
From the time she’d been old enough to realize what her mother had done, Tamara had planned for this day. Ever since the day she realized Creole James was tossed in juvie for defending her. With the singlemindedness of a toddler, Tamara had planned for this day. She had worked. Saved. Sacrificed.
Lunch money was gleaned. Babysitting money hoarded. Back-to-school shopping was done at thrift stores. For nine years, Tamara had only one focus. To save enough money. To find Creole James. Beg his forgiveness. And, if she was honest with herself, live happily ever after with her mountain lion shifter husband.
Once everything Tamara owned was packed, she nodded to Adele. “I’ll let you know when I’ve settled down.”
“He was an animal, Tammy.”
Hatred dripped from the woman’s words, and Tamara fought to stop the involuntary flinch. “Why are we still talking about this, Mother? I gave up the search for Creole last year.”
After her mother had threatened to file a complaint against him with the Department of Shifter Services. If Creole had been found alive, they might have done an investigation, or they may have “eliminated” him on sight. All depended on the seriousness of the charges and how much due process the agents wanted to expend.
Tamara figured the threats were baseless. A last push from an impotent bully. She wasn’t, however, sure enough to risk Creole’s freedom a second time.
“Don’t embarrass me while you’re in school. And don’t even think about looking for that animal or his people. He’s probably long dead or back in prison. Either option would look very badly on our family.”
“I will not look for him while I’m in school,” Tamara promised easily. It was true, as far as it went. Because she had no intention of actually going to school.
She doubted Creole ever went back to prison. Tamara still remembered the hard fingers of his lawyer as they dug into the tender flesh of her upper arm. Forcing her to watch her best friend wander the prison yard. Telling her that if she didn’t tell the judge the truth, Creole would wither away and die behind a chain link fence. The sight of Creole in a yard full of people was enough to break her little girl’s heart. Her Creole was born to run.
After watching him for half an hour, Tamara had agreed to talk to the judge. Her testimony had both freed him and imprisoned her.
Creole was free from the confines of jail, but he was placed forever on the government’s watch list as an unauthorized shifter. After Tamara’s testimony, he was able to finish his time in a minimum-security facility. Tamara took solace in that even as Adele effectively imprisoned her when she packed the two of them up and moved them across the country.
Adele returned to the living room while Tamara finished a last look around her room.
“Talk to you later, Mother.” Tamara forced herself to say the words. She would be a better person than the one who raised her.
Adele waved from the couch, already caught up in one of her shows.
Tamara’s hands shook as she started the car. There was nothing here she’d miss and yet, she was leaving everything familiar and had no idea what was on the other side.
What if Creole hated her? Or if she found him married with kids? Tamara closed her eyes, letting brief tears slip down her cheeks. She resolved she would hug his wife, be an aunt to his children, and walk away to begin Plan B. The death of her dream would hurt, but she’d considered all her options.
The article she’d printed from the Silver Fells Gazette slipped out of her bag. They were standing in a group, arms slung over each other with several women smiling up at the muscular men.
“Whatever you find, you will accept,” Tamara reminded herself.
The Arizona desert stretched out for miles with no comfort or company except a broken radio and an occasional cactus. But at the end of this journey would be Creole James. She hoped.