Feral Seduction (Feral Protectors 2) (14 page)

She hardened her heart. When he woke up, she’d be prepared for his rejection. At least she knew what to expect.

A few minutes later, Stryde stirred. He stretched and settled his head into the valley of her breasts. “Did you sleep well?”

She tensed. “Fine. We should get going. The police station opens at six a.m. I want to be there right when they open.”

Stryde rolled onto his side and stared at her. “We can wait a little bit, can’t we?”

She shook her head. “No.”

He frowned. “No strings, right?”

“Right.” She slipped out of bed and pulled a robe around her. “I’m going to take a shower. You can jump in after me. My father’s clothes will probably be a little short, but they will fit you well enough.”

Before she could change her mind and plead with him to let her move into his den with him, she hurried to this shower. Tepid water rained down on her. She stared at the drain as rivulets of dirt-laden water swirled away. She needed to stop thinking about Stryde and focus on what she’d say to the police.

She still didn’t have any proof of Hugo’s attacks. Based on Stryde’s experience with her uncle, either the police wouldn’t believe their story or, worse, they’d lock Stryde up as if he was some kind of freak.

She stepped out of the shower and into the freezing bathroom. She quickly dressed. When she opened the door, Stryde practically fell into the room.

She gasped and stepped back. “You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to. I heard the water turn off and just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” His soft gray eyes tugged at her heart.

“I’m fine. There are towels on the rack.”

She sidestepped him and hurried into the bedroom. He didn’t follow. She knew he wouldn’t. He’d been very clear about his feelings toward her.

She sat on the bed and dropped her face into her hands. A web of pain enslaved her heart. She couldn’t stop thinking that maybe she was making a huge mistake. Maybe she should confess her love for him.

She laughed bitterly. Who was she kidding? And since when did she live in fantasyland? Hadn’t life showed her again and again that people would leave when she least expected it?

After she changed into a clean blue t-shirt and jeans, she padded into the kitchen. She turned on the coffeepot, put some bread in the toaster and scrambled some eggs. She set thick strips of bacon in another pan. The aroma wafting off the pan made her stomach grumble. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until the toast popped up. She slapped it on a plate, lined the toast with bacon and dumped a heaping spoonful of eggs on top. She buttered a second piece of toast and used it to form a sandwich.

She’d lifted it halfway to her mouth when Stryde walked into the room. With her mouth hanging open, she stared at his near-naked form. A fluffy white towel hung low across his hips. Droplets of water clung to the ends of his hair. His coppery skin glowed in a way that accentuated his muscular chest.

“Bacon! I’m starving. Thanks for making breakfast.” His husky voice sent shivers down her spine.

A clump of egg fell out of her sandwich onto her jeans. She quickly scooped it up and tossed it in the sink. “Uh, yeah. Take as much as you want. I mean, I can put something together for you.”

She wanted to smash her face into her palm. She was acting like a blubbering fool. If she were still sixteen, it wouldn’t be so strange, but she was a grown woman.

After making a sandwich, Stryde slid a barstool across from where she stood. “I have to admit, there are a few things I miss about living with humans.”

She smiled. “Let me guess… bacon?”

He chuckled. “No, toast.”

“Interesting.”

“We don’t make bread. It’s all meat and berries.”

Meat and berries.
She flushed and look away from him. How embarrassing. She was acting like a teenager in heat. Well, she was in heat, so maybe she had a right to think such thoughts. She stifled a giggle.

He smiled. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” She cleared her throat. “So, you have pigs in the woods?”

“Not many, but enough to enjoy a slab of bacon from time to time.” He bit into the sandwich, and a tiny piece of crust settled into the corner of his lips.

Entranced by his mouth, she stared until she couldn’t take it any longer. She set down her sandwich, sauntered around the island in the center of the kitchen, and stopped just inches from him. With her thumb, she reached toward his face. She flicked the crumb away but didn’t remove her hand. She traced a thumb along his bottom lip.

His eyes turned a stormy gray. He set his sandwich on the counter and brushed his hands across the towel.

She caressed his cheek with the pad of her thumb. Her heart pounded in her chest. She’d never wanted to kiss a man more than she wanted to kiss him in that moment.

He reached for her waist, slowly running his hands along her sides before hooking them behind her back.

He pulled her closer. “Don’t look at me like that if you don’t intend to kiss me.”

In a sultry voice she said, “I intend to do far more than just kiss you.”

She brushed her lips across his cheek on the way to nibbling his earlobe.

“You drive me crazy,” he growled.

She whispered kisses along his neck. “I could say the same about you.”

Her lips sought his and when she found them, she melted into his arms. His lips parted. She knew kissing him would only increase her pain, but she didn’t care. She had to taste him one last time. Once they left the house, she might never get to kiss him again.

She deepened the kiss, encircling his neck with her fingers, drawing him down. His hands slid lower to cup her butt. When he pulled her roughly against him, she moaned and pressed her hips into his thighs.

He scooped her up and was halfway to her bedroom when she realized they were about to make a huge mistake.

“Wait,” she gasped.

Chapter 14

Stryde continued to the bedroom and set her on the bed. He couldn’t think of anything other than tearing her clothes off and making love to her. Her scent overwhelmed him and even though they’d just made love hours ago, he already wanted her again.

She scurried into the corner and held up her hand to stop him. “Wait.”

“What?” he asked in an exasperated tone.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.”

His lips pressed into a thin line. This couldn’t be happening. “A second ago, you were all over me and now you want to stop?”

She jumped to her feet and fisted her hands at her hips. “We agreed that last night was a onetime deal. No strings, remember?”

A muscle at the side of his jaw twitched. “I remember.”

“You need to get dressed so we can get to the station.”

He narrowed his eyes for a second before relenting. “Fine.”

Damn woman. She’d drive him insane by the time she was done with him. One minute she was all over him, and the next she was pushing him away. He shouldn’t have entertained any hope that she might want more with him. He turned and walked out of the room.

In her father’s room, he opened three drawers before he found a pair of pants. Each drawer held a bottle of liquor. He slammed each bottle onto the top of the dresser so hard he almost broke them.

Brandy stalked into the room. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Looking for pants.”

Her gaze landed on the bottles. “Where did you find those?”

“In the dresser.”

She grabbed the bottles and ran into her father’s bathroom. He followed her to see what she was up to.

As she uncapped each bottle and poured it into the sink, she swore. After emptying the final bottle, she tossed it into the trash where it smashed against the others.

She placed her palms on the edge of the sink and leaned over it. Her back rose and fell rapidly with her breath. She trembled and started to cry.

All the frustration in his body disintegrated. He stepped into the bathroom. “Brandy…”

“Get out. I don’t need you, just like I don’t need my father. I do just fine on my own.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I thought you—”

“—wanted me to make love to you again only to have you tear up my heart?” In the mirror, her gaze rose to meet his.

Stunned by the pain reflected in her eyes, he stepped back. “I never meant to hurt you.”

She shook her head, then stood and wiped the tears from her eyes. “You don’t have to go with me to the police station. I can handle it on my own. I always have and I always will.”

“You don’t have to do everything alone,” he said softly.

Her brows furrowed. “Why are you being so nice to me? Is it the sex?”

“I like you, a lot. More than a lot. But things are complicated and I’m not ready to deal with more than friendship. I’ve been alone a long time too. When Leah died, we hadn’t been together for almost five years. I’m not sure I know how to be in a relationship anymore. I’m not sure that I want to be. But I also don’t know if I can take the pain of losing you.”

He hung his head, ashamed that he’d confessed more than he intended. Something about her made him want to share his most intimate feelings with her. Maybe it was the way she stopped and listened to every word he said. Maybe it was the way she never made him feel inadequate.

She turned to face him, leaning her butt against the counter. “What if being with me isn’t about pain? What if we’re good together? I know what you mean about not wanting to take a risk, but don’t you feel the connection between us? Don’t you feel something more?”

The hopeful look in her eyes made his heart soar. “I do feel something more. But we’ve been through an intense few days. How can we know that what we’re feeling is real?”

The light in her eyes faded. “We won’t know until my stalker is caught. Maybe then we can figure out what’s going on between us.”

He took a tentative step forward. “I wish I could be the kind of man you want, but I can’t lie to you.”

She gave him a half-smile. “I’m glad you’re being honest. At least I know where things stand.”

He closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her head. “Let’s go to the station and get that settled. One step at a time, okay?”

She pulled away enough to tilt her head up to look at him. “Okay.”

He gently kissed her soft lips. Inside, he was a jumbled mess. He never imagined wanting to risk a relationship again. But maybe it was time to take a leap of faith.

***

On the way to the police station, Brandy glanced down a side road toward Hugo Lorenzo’s house. He lived just three blocks away, but it could have been a million miles. His Spanish ranch-style home sprawled across a corner lot. She’d passed by it every day on her way to work, never imagining her father would kill one of the inhabitants.

The wrought-iron fence stood on the edge of the property like a ten-foot-tall sentry. As she passed, the half-open gate caught her eye. It was never left unlocked. She stopped in the middle of the street.

Stryde stopped behind her. “What’s up?”

“The gate’s never unlocked.”

“So? Maybe he forgot to close it when he left to stalk you.”

She shook her head. A shiver of trepidation shimmied down her spine. “I think we should check it out.”

“What? Why? We should let the police deal with him.”

“I just have a feeling…”

“We don’t know what we’d be walking into. Let’s go get the cops,” he said.

“Yesterday, you were gung ho on confronting him.”

“Yeah, but I realized how stupid it would be to confront an armed man. There’s a fine line between stupid and brave.”

The door on the side of the garage cracked open. A man peered out at them. When he stepped into the light, she breathed a sigh of relief.

“It’s my uncle.”

Stryde’s eyes narrowed. “Great.”

“I wonder what he’s doing here.”

Her uncle approached them. He wore his uniform, along with his gun belt. His hand rested on the butt of the gun. “What are you two doing here?”

Brandy said, “We were passing by on the way to the police station. Hugo tried to kill me again yesterday. I know you don’t believe me, but he did.”

Sherriff Watkins stepped outside of the gate. He glanced up and down the street. “You two better come with me.”

Brandy glanced at Stryde and shrugged. She had no idea what to make of her uncle’s behavior. Maybe he’d talked some sense into Hugo. He should still be put in jail for trying to kill her, so maybe he was in cuffs inside. Maybe her uncle had finally arrested him.

As they walked into the foyer, her uncle said, “Don’t touch anything.”

The fear snaking around Brandy’s gut constricted. A metallic scent hung in the musky air. As they followed her uncle down the hall, Stryde grabbed her hand and squeezed it. She relaxed slightly at his reassuring touch.

Her uncle stopped outside the entrance to a room at the rear of the house. “Before we go in there, I need to ask where you were the last three days.”

Brandy glanced at Stryde before answering. “I was in a cave in the forest, with Stryde.”

Sherriff Watkins arched a brow. “A cave?”

“I was hiding from Hugo.”

“Can anyone else corroborate your story?”

“No.”

The sheriff sighed. “Don’t touch anything.”

He stepped into the room.

Brandy followed him, then froze. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh my God.”

In the center of a huge bed, a man lay face down in a rust-colored pool of blood. She screamed.

Stryde was instantly at her side, pulling her against him. “Is that Hugo?”

The sheriff responded in a grave voice. “Yes, and by the looks of things, he’s been dead at least three days, maybe more. I won’t know until the ME gets down here.”

Brandy’s entire body shook with adrenaline. “That’s impossible. He was in the forest with me. He shot at me last night.”

“Did you see his face?”

She thought back to the brief sighting. “No.”

Stryde grabbed her shoulders and turned her toward him. “Did you ever see the face of the man stalking you?”

“No, he always wore a hooded sweatshirt and had a bandanna across his face.” The room swayed.

Stryde caught her in his arms and held her steady. “If it wasn’t Hugo, who could it be?”

“I don’t know. It could be anyone.”

The sheriff said, “We’ll need to go through a list of everyone related to the trial. I’m convinced that the person stalking you wants revenge. We should probably go to the station to sort this out.”

Stryde narrowed his eyes. “Why should we trust you? Your niece came to you for help and you didn’t believe her. How do we know that you’ll keep your word if we go with you to the police station? What would stop you from locking us up and charging us with Hugo’s murder?”

The sheriff’s gaze switched from Stryde to Brandy. “As much as I hate to admit it, I can see why you don’t trust me. When you came to my house with the story about being stalked, there wasn’t any evidence to back up your claim. I didn’t believe you. I thought you were making up stories to get attention.”

“But you believe me now? Why?” Brandy asked.

“Call it cop instinct; call it whatever you want. The whole situation wasn’t sitting right in my gut. Something was off, so I went to your house yesterday afternoon. I wanted to talk to you. When I arrived, a knife had been staked to your front door with a note. It said, ‘You escaped for now, bitch. But you can’t run forever…’”

Brandy blanched.

“I put it in an evidence bag and took it to the local sheriff. He said he’d talk to you about it today. I waited at your house for a few hours, but when you didn’t show, I left. I drove into town this morning, hoping to find you at the house, but on the way over, I decided to stop here. The front door was open, so I called out a few times. When I didn’t get a response, I went in to check it out. I found Hugo on the bed.”

In the distance, a police siren screamed.

Sheriff Watkins said, “I called it in a few minutes ago. If you don’t have an alibi, they’ll take you in. I believe you, but I don’t know if they will. I could lose my badge for this, but you’re right to want to avoid the station. This isn’t my turf, so I might not be able to keep the local boys from charging you with Hugo’s murder. You’d better get out of here. Go to your house and wait for me there. But know this—if I get there and you’re gone, I’ll hunt you down myself.”

Brandy nodded. “We’ll be there.”

“Go out the gate in the back. It’s unlocked.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it… to anyone,” he added.

She nodded and raced toward the back door. Once outside, she and Stryde found the back gate and hurried along a long drainage ditch until they reached the barren land behind the houses. Once they were safely inside her house, she collapsed onto the threadbare sofa in the living room.

Stryde perched on the edge of her father’s wingback chair. “What the hell is going on? Can you think of anyone else who wanted to hurt you?”

She cringed. “Everyone in the courtroom when the verdict was read.”

“How many people?”

“At least a hundred.”

“Dammit.” Stryde stood and paced the living room. When he reached her father’s desk, he grabbed a pen and paper. “Make a list of everyone who would want to hurt you.”

Her hand trembled as she wrote a list of names. The more she wrote, the deeper her despair. There were so many people.

She stopped writing and stared at Stryde. “I’ll never be safe.”

He moved to sit beside her. “I won’t leave you until we catch whoever is doing this.”

She leaned against his shoulder. She didn’t want him to ever leave. As fat tears rolled down her face, a sound coming from the back of the house made her heart stop.

Someone was in the house.