Cougar Needs [Cougarlicious 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (7 page)

“My bad girl needs to be punished before I can forgive her for fucking another man,” he said. With only that for explanation, he pulled his other hand back and slapped the right side of her face, causing her to cry out once again.

“Owww, what are you talking about?”

“I saw that young buck leave out of here awhile ago. What the hell do you think you’re doing fucking someone else. You’re
my
woman until I say differently. Just because I haven’t been around lately is no reason for you to go slutting around behind my back.”

Slap. Slap. Slap.

The slaps were getting harder, but instead of giving into the panic that was bubbling up in her chest, Stacy pushed it down and away. Digging deep, she grabbed for a calmness she only hoped would get her through whatever was about to happen.

“What would your wife say if she saw you like this, Wayne?” she asked when he stopped and looked around.

“She’s learned her place and knows better than to question anything I say or do. And when I’m through with you, my naughty bitch, you’ll know your place as well. Come on. I need another beer.”

Climbing off of her, he grabbed her hair at the back of her head and dragged her across the bed, causing Stacy to cry out and scramble to keep up with him. She had barely stood up when he headed for the door, with her stumbling along behind him. She tried to get him to release her hair even as she worked to keep him from pulling it all out.

When they reached the kitchen, he slammed her head into the refrigerator, momentarily stunning her, then shoved her out of the way. She tripped and ended up on the floor, fighting to maintain a tenuous hold on her emotions when what she really wanted to do was curl up and cry.

But you are not that woman any more. You are stronger than he is. You will not give up. You belong to KJ now.

The voice in her head sounded a lot like KJ, but the words were her own. Except for the last sentence, she had told herself these same things every time she felt down, overwhelmed, or trapped in the past. Sometimes a man was involved, sometimes it was work, and other times it was just the loneliness of being single getting her down.

Though she questioned whether she really belonged to KJ or not, Stacy knew she had to fight like she did. Later, after she had dealt with Wayne, she would track her shifter down and let him know in no uncertain terms that she would not be played any more. If he was her mate that was fine, but if not, that was okay, too. She would get along without him if she had to. She had done it in the past, and she could do it again.

Trying to remember where she left her cell phone, she vaguely remembered laying it on the counter by the door that led to the garage and her office. While Wayne stood between her and that door, his attention was on finding a bottle opener, which was hanging on the side of the refrigerator door just a foot from his nose.

Moving slowly, Stacy got her legs under her and slowly crawled toward the counter. She moved to the far side of the kitchen so the island was between her and the drunken man who was now raging about her lousy housekeeping skills and not being able to find the bottle opener.

Reaching the far side of the room, she straightened slowly and patted the counter until she found her phone and the keys beside it. She then continued crawling toward the door that led to the driveway. If she could get outside, she could either run or hide long enough to call the cops.

She continued out into the utility room before standing. As her hand wrapped around the door handle, Wayne bellowed behind her. With a twist and a jerk, the door was open, and she was out and running down the steps to the driveway.

KJ’s Mustang sat alone in the driveway, adding to her underlying hope that he would eventually return from wherever he had gone. When she reached the driver’s door, she paused long enough to pull his cell phone number up and hit
send.
Her hesitation cost her.

As she reached for the door handle, Wayne caught her. She thought she heard KJ speak, but could not be sure. She screamed as Wayne’s fist slammed against the side of her head. She only hoped KJ had answered and was listening.

“You dumb bitch,” Wayne roared. “Think you can get away from me, do you?”

He jerked her around, and after shoving her up against the car, he slammed his fist into her stomach. Stacy doubled over then crumpled to the driveway, hoping her assailant did not see the phone before KJ got the message that she was in trouble.

“No, Wayne,” she gasped as loud as she could. “Please don’t hurt me anymore.”

His answer came in the form of his work boot kicking her in the ribs, taking her breath as pain exploded in her ribs and she heard a snapping sound.

She had just enough time to push the phone under the edge of the car before Wayne grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to her feet. She grew lightheaded as he dragged her behind him back into the house.

Stacy prayed that KJ was on his way. Otherwise he might return to find a corpse instead of a mate.

* * * *

When his phone rang, KJ answered automatically, smiling when he saw it was Stacy. Before he could apologize for leaving without waking her, a loud scream blasted into his hear, causing him to wince in pain. Setting the phone to speaker, he listened to each cry, each word as he radioed the dispatcher to report an assault in progress and that he would be handling it.

Once the dispatcher replied, he flipped on the lights and stepped on the gas. Though Stacy’s neighborhood was not part of his current patrol area, there was no way anyone else was taking this call.

Thankfully, there was no traffic, and he flew down her street doing twice the legal speed limit. A block from Stacy’s house, he turned off the lights and slowed just enough that the tires would not squeal when he stopped so he was blocking her driveway. As he had driven, he had listened as her cries grew faint, and from the man’s words, they were back inside. Would either of them notice him walking across the front lawn?

Deciding to err on the side of caution, KJ slipped out of his car and quickly moved across the neighbor’s lawn until he was out of sight of the front of the house. Then he cut across to the side of Stacy’s garage before he crossed over into her yard.

The exterior lights were all out, and in his dark uniform he blended into the shadows. He moved quickly and quietly as he approached the door by the garage. Opening the screen door just far enough to slip through, KJ was not surprised to find the interior door unlocked. Though it was a plus for him since Stacy’s key ring was in his jeans in his locker at the station.

It also meant that whoever the shithead was who was beating on his mate was so far out of control he was not thinking straight. Otherwise he would have stopped long enough to lock the door.

Hearing scuffling and muttered cursing from the living room, KJ flipped off the lights in the kitchen, knowing no one would notice. Then he moved through the room to a point where he could see what was going on. His cat roared at the sight and pushed for freedom and its need to hunt and kill that which had hurt his mate. KJ fought him back with everything he had as he watched for another few seconds.

The man she had called Wayne was older, average-looking man. He stood over the crumpled body of his mate finishing one of the beers KJ had brought earlier that evening. Another one sat on the coffee table. As soon as he put the one in his hand down, he picked up the other and started it in on it. From the way he was swaying, he had had quite a few before showing up at Stacy’s house.

Turning his attention to his mate, he noticed her chest was moving. She was breathing, but barely. Her face was red and puffy. He wondered what other injuries she had suffered in his absence. He watched as the man pulled his leg back and kicked her in the shoulder. Thankfully there was no power behind the move, and the man almost fell over in the effort.

“No bitch is gonna tell me when we’re through. That’s my call. Got it?” His words were slurred, and he was spitting as he pointed his finger at the unconscious woman.

Stepping back out of sight, KJ stripped as fast as he could. Shifting to his cougar form ripped clothes, and it was going to be hard enough to explain this situation without having to add a torn and tattered uniform to the list.

As soon as he was naked, he released the iron-tight control he normally held over his cougar and shifted. As soon as all four paws hit the floor, he stalked into the living room, giving a snarling growl when he saw the man was about to kick his mate again.

“What the fuck are you?” the man yelled, lifting his hands to rub his eyes before looking at KJ again.

KJ gave a snarling roar for an answer and began to stalk the man who had hurt his mate. From what Stacy had told him and the man’s own words on the phone, he had hurt at least two women tonight. After tonight, he would hurt no one else.

As KJ crossed the living room, he never took his eyes from the man who began to back away. When he reached his mate, he took a moment and nuzzled her face. She opened her eyes and said, “KJ,” before her eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp. This time she was unconscious.

Jumping over her body, KJ continued after the man who seemed to be quickly sobering up. Of course, the sight of a two-hundred-pound cougar on the hunt in his ex-girlfriend’s living room might have something to do with it.

“Good kitty. Go away now. I was just leaving,” the man said as he took several more steps. “Good kitty. Shoo, go away.”

Yes you are, and you won’t be back again, ever,
KJ thought to himself, his pace quickening so that he was almost on the man when he reached the door.

But he could not attack while they were in the house. He did not want Stacy to have any reminders of this part of the evening. He wanted her to focus on earlier, on him, on their mating. So, he would drive this man out of the house and yard and into the woods that bordered the development.

The man was drunk enough not to realize where KJ was herding him to. All he saw was a big reddish-gold cougar coming at him. Trying to keep himself and his cat under control so they did not attack too soon, KJ continued stalking until he successfully drove the man into the woods behind Stacy’s house.

Once there, he allowed his cougar to take complete control and deal with this animal who walked on two feet and had hurt his mate. When the man stumbled and fell over a log that crossed the trail, the cougar sprang, determined to avenge and protect his mate and whoever else this scum of a man had hurt.

Stacy woke in pain, but it did not feel like the pain of fresh injuries. It took her a few minutes of closed-eyes thinking to remember what had happened. KJ left without saying good-bye. Wayne drunk and in a rage. Running and trying to call KJ. Pain.

She also vaguely remembered a big cat nuzzling her gently.

Then nothing but pain.

Opening her eyes, she blinked several times before her eyes could adjust to the dim light of the room. Looking around, she did not recognize the room. The walls were a light blue-gray and devoid of any decoration except for a couple of red signs she did not bother to read. Across the room, a television hung high on the wall with a clock below it. The time was nine thirty-four, making her wonder if it was morning or night.

Turning her head caused her to suck a breath at the pain that ran across her back. She found a tall, narrow window in the far wall. Looking through the miniblinds, she saw blue sky with a couple of small clouds. It was morning. But how much time had passed since Wayne’s attack? Hours? Days? Longer?

Pulling her gaze from the window, she looked down and saw she was lying in what had to be a hospital bed, covered with a white cotton blanket and light-green sheets. Okay, she was in the hospital. When her awareness expanded another level, she realized there was someone in the room with her.

“How are you feeling, baby girl?”

Turning her head in the direction of the voice caused her to moan softly in pain. KJ sat in the recliner, which he had turned to face the bed. He was wearing his police uniform and looked good enough to eat if it did not hurt just thinking about getting to what was underneath.

She licked her lips and tried to take a deep breath, but the pain in the left side of her chest spiked as she did. Shifting to a more comfortable position, she opened her mouth to speak.

“Shhh, don’t talk yet. You need some more time to heal,” he said as he stood up and approached the bed.

In a move that told her he had done this before, he lowered the side rail of the bed. He settled on the mattress slowly, obviously trying not to jostle her or cause her pain. Reaching for something out of her line of sight, he brought a plastic cup with a straw into view.

“What? Where? How long?” she demanded in a barely there voice.

“You’re in the hospital. I brought you here about six hours ago when you would not wake up. They just settled you into this room a couple of hours ago. Do you remember being attacked?”

Stacy closed her eyes as she nodded. “Wayne was pissed.” She swallowed and then whispered, “Tired.”

She felt KJ brush a soft kiss on her forehead. “Sleep, mate. It’s the best thing for you. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Okay,” she breathed before slipping back into the darkness.