The Alpha's Daughter (32 page)

"Who? Who did this?" Jazz asked as she,
without thinking, picked up the cloth and began to wash his
back.

"God, that feels good," he said and hunched
his shoulders so she could rub harder. "I don't know for sure, but
I have a good idea. If I was beaten that badly, I sure as hell
wouldn't call my girlfriend for help." He chuckled when the rubdown
stopped and he looked up into Jazz's glaring eyes. "Right. You, I'd
call. I'm talking your average girlfriend. Why not call his father
or Cho. They'd be of more use than Livvy."

"Unless he thought he was going to die." She
told him about Livvy's wolf, but decided to save Donna's story for
a time when he could fully enjoy it. Jazz set the cloth aside and
began to knead the knots from his shoulders and neck.

"No." Griz shook his head. "That wolver
survived through sheer willpower. If he hadn't believed he was
going to live, he would have died. He only came to once. He kept
mumbling something about saving her and help her."

"You think he was talking about Livvy?" Jazz
handed him the towel. "Does Tom know?"

"He does and so does the Alpha and Harvey and
Roger. They'll keep an eye on her just in case. I'll write a note
to keep her out of school for a few days, but they feel like I do.
He wasn't talking about Livvy."

A crash from the other room sent them
running. Brad had rolled from the bed and was trying to pull
himself up.

"Damnit! Are you trying to undo everything
I've done?" Griz hoisted the young man back up to the bed.

"You have to help her," Brad said with a
voice more breath than sound. "She has cubs."

His eyes started to close and Griz tapped his
cheek lightly to rouse him. "Who? Where is she?"

"I didn't tell," Brad said groggily. "I
didn't tell."

"I know you didn't, but you've got to tell
me, son. Where is she?"

"Cozy cabin…" Brad's eyes rolled up into his
head before his lids closed.

"Shit," Griz muttered and wiped his brow.
"Call Tom. No, call Roger. Tom's got enough on his plate. Tell him
we need his van and to pick me up out front. I don't know how long
she's been in that place, but ten minutes would be too long. I have
to get dressed."

"What do I tell him? Should I call the Alpha?
What place? Where are you going?" Jazz followed him to the
stairs.

"Tell him we're picking up a woman and her
cubs. Don't call the Alpha. He needs his rest. Tonight's been too
much for him already. Brad's evidently stashed the woman at the
Cozy Cabins Motor Court. It's an old abandoned motel about ten
miles down the main road. It's falling apart and infested with God
knows what."

"Isn't that the place you wanted to send
me?"

Griz turned at the top of the stairs, reached
down and ruffled her hair. "That was then. This is now. Go make the
calls, Jazz."

She did, but not before grabbing some clothes
for herself. She dressed while she called, using the rolodex next
to the phone. When it came to the pack, Griz was organizational
perfection. When it came to himself, the man was a mess.

"Calls are made. Roger's on his way and Donna
will let herself in," she said when she came out to find Griz
already waiting on the porch. "I'm going with you," she explained.
"Donna can sit with Brad until we get back."

"You're not…"

"I am. She doesn't know you and a woman might
make it less frightening."

*****

Griz was right. The place was a shambles of
collapsed porches and caved in roofs. Each door they opened let out
a waft of unpleasant odors; mold and mildew and the acrid smell of
toilets left too long unflushed. There were burn marks and broken
bottles everywhere. No cabin was left untouched by vandalism and
decay.

Her name was Opal and they found her huddled
in the corner of the worst looking cabin with one toddler in her
lap and another held close beside her. Her face showed the yellowed
bruises of a recent beating.

Jazz knew that face. She'd seen it on dozens
of women in the past. Just a few short months before, she would
have accepted that face as simply a consequence of being mated and
therefore owned. Now, it made her stomach churn and sent a sudden
fury boiling through her veins.

"Brad sent us from Gilead and we're here to
help," she told the frightened woman. "Whoever did this to you
won't touch you again and if he does, I'll kill him."

Roger took a step away from her as if he was
afraid she'd turn her anger on him, but Griz gave her a quick
squeeze and stepped forward.

"I'm Doc Goodman," he said. "We're going to
take you home with us. You and the pups need food and sleep and
then we'll talk about what to do next."

*****

Opal was the kind of woman who jumped at any
sudden move. She was a rabbit among wolves and didn't know which
way to run. It was no wonder. She'd tried running from her mate
before.

"Once," she told Jazz. The pups were playing
under the dining room table. Opal wouldn't let them move beyond
arm's length. "I ran once before, not long after we got tossed from
the pack."

She'd already told Jazz that her mate had
been outcast as a thief. "Why didn't you stay with the pack?"

Most packs, even her father's, allowed the
family of the outcast to stay if they chose to. Some did. Some
didn't.

"He stole and I knew it. I turned a blind eye
to it. I-I was outcast, too." Opal hung her head in shame.

"Did they know about this?" Jazz touched the
woman's swollen cheek. Griz had taken care of some of it. Others he
left to heal on their own.

"The Mate did, at least she hinted at it, but
I didn't say nothin' and kept myself covered. So no, they didn't
know. I was too ashamed." Opal's eyes were bleak. "He didn't do it
often and he was always real sorry later, but he always made sure
he aimed for places folks couldn't see. This," she pointed to the
spot Jazz had touched, "This didn't start until after we were
outcast and it got worse.

"I took the cubs and ran when I couldn't
stand it no more, but we had no money and no folks to turn to. He
found us and I thought I'd like to die when he finished with me. I
kept my mouth shut and laid low after that and I thought when Cho
took a liking to Ray and said we could move in over yonder, maybe
things would go back to the way they was. They treat their women
good over there."

What kind of life had this poor woman led if
she saw getting beaten three or four times a year an improvement?
Jazz bit her tongue.

"Didn't work out, huh?"

Opal shook her head.

*****

"What do we do if they come for her?"

The Alpha sat on his front porch in the same
chair he used when Jazz first saw him. He was old then, but there
was a vibrancy to him that gave her a glimpse of what he once was.
Now he was shrunken and gray. Sleep wouldn't cure the tiredness she
saw in his eyes. In spite of the warmth of the bright, sunny day,
he wore a sagging blue cardigan sweater and a blanket covered his
lap.

His Council had been arguing for twenty
minutes and Jazz was tired of listening to the endless back and
forth.

"We can send her back," Roger suggested.

"Are you fucking crazy?" Jazz leapt to her
feet from the step she'd been sitting on next to Griz.

He yanked her back down. "Mouth," he said,
giving her a look, "And you're a guest at this Council, not a
member of it."

"Sorry," she said in a way that told Griz and
the rest of them she didn't mean it.

"The man has a point. It would keep the
peace," Griz said to the Alpha.

The Alpha nodded. "There's that."

"Of course," Griz continued, "There's no
telling what would happen to the woman if we send her back."

"Wouldn't be our concern, now would it?" the
Alpha said reasonably.

Jazz was biting her tongue so hard she tasted
blood, but Griz's firm hand on her shoulder kept her quiet.
Something was going on here that she didn't understand.

"I'm too old to go battling over a woman that
don't belong to Gilead," the overalled Milt complained, "But I
don't hold with beating up on women. We could promise to give her
back if they promise to see it don't happen again. Make 'em give
their word."

Roger shook his head in disgust. "When did
you turn stupid, Milt? You think those rogues are going to stand by
their word?"

Tom Dawson looked disgusted with the whole
Council. Jazz could have kissed him.

"We send that woman back, her blood's going
to be on our hands. I can't believe what I'm hearing here. How do
we even know they'll come for her? Doc, I'm not asking you to name
names, but you see their women down at the clinic. Have you seen
any indication that they treat their women poorly?"

He colored a little and when he glanced down
at Jazz, he colored more. Ellie must have told her mate what Jazz
told her.

"Can't say that I have. I don't think there
are that many women up there. I've seen maybe a half a dozen,
mostly bringing in their cubs. There's no Alpha, no Mate, so no
pregnancies. From what I've seen, they're tough as nails, but I
don't see them suffering. Of course, that doesn't mean they'll stop
her mate from doing what he's going to do. Folks are funny about
that." Griz shrugged. "But like Rog said, it's none of our concern.
We should send her back."

Roger bristled with indignity. "Now wait just
a daggone minute there, Doc. I didn't say any such thing. No sir,
no I didn't. I was just opening it up for discussion. For
discussion, that's all. Why, we don't know as they'll come for her
at all. Maybe her mate is as happy to be shut of her as she is of
him."

"Then why'd they beat the holy hell out of
him to find her?" Harvey asked. "That gang has been up on that
ridge for more than twenty years. We've never had any trouble with
them before. Why now?"

Jazz knew the answer and looking around at
the Alpha's Council, they knew it, too. The Alpha was old and weak.
If the rogue leader thought he was capable of carrying the mantle,
this pack was ripe for the taking.

"We wait," Griz said decisively. "But we wait
with our eyes open. Pass the word to keep the cubs close to home.
No woman leaves Gilead alone. We don't want to give them the
opportunity for an eye-for-an-eye situation. We keep watch. Milt,
you set that up. Talk to folks. Let them have their choice, but
make sure we're covered around the clock."

Griz looked up at the Alpha who gave an
imperceptible nod. No one else seemed to notice. They were all
talking about what needed to be done.

"You knew," Jazz groused on the walk home.
She punched Griz's arm. "You sneaky old bear, you. You knew what
the Alpha wanted from the very first."

Griz was a million miles away. "Huh? Oh,
yeah, what the Alpha wanted."

"All that bullshit back there was for show.
Why didn't the Alpha just put his foot down and tell them the way
it was going to be." It was wasted time as far as Jazz could
see.

Griz was finally paying attention. "Because
when you're all in the same boat, it's best if everyone is rowing
in the same direction."

"Hmph, my way would be faster," she said.

Griz laughed and ruffled her hair. "I
realize, Hellcat, that you're a
kick-down-the-door-and-shoot-whatever-moves kind of woman, but I
prefer to knock softly and see if they'll come quietly. Saves money
on doors and bullets."

"Smartass."

He did have a point. Without any real
antagonism, he quietly made them all row in the same direction. It
was another moment before she said, "I suppose you're right."

Griz stopped and cocked his head. "Did you
feel that?" he asked.

"What?" She stopped and waited to feel
whatever it was Griz had felt.

He stooped down and felt the ground with his
hand. "Yep, Hell just froze over."

Jazz pushed him onto his ass. She heard him
laughing behind her as she marched off home.

*****

With Opal and the cubs sleeping in their bed
and Brad fading in and out of sleep in the dining room, Jazz
volunteered to sleep on the floor while Griz used the lumpy couch.
Neither was happy with the arrangement and when Griz left for the
clinic the next morning, Jazz was determined to rectify the
situation.

Technically, she was in charge of Brad's care
and monitoring their houseguest, but Livvy arrived five minutes
after Griz left. Livvy wasn't about to relinquish her seat beside
the young man's bed and she could watch him sleep as well as Jazz.
After her confession, Opal didn't have much else to say. Being
quiet and unobtrusive was probably ingrained in her after living
with Ray or The Fucking Bastard as Jazz preferred to call him in
her mind. The woman was, however, more than willing to help as long
as her cubs were near at hand and that was fine with Jazz.

There were two more bedrooms upstairs that
were loaded with junk, some of it useful junk. Her mission was to
clear the rooms enough to set up beds for patient and guests and
reclaim her own.

The first and larger of the two rooms was
easy. She'd already moved some of the furniture into Griz and her
room and the mix of odd chairs surrounded the table below. It was a
matter of rearranging what was left and moving boxes, most of which
belonged to Griz.

They were filled with clothes, enough to fill
every closet in the house. One box, as high as her waist, contained
only dress shirts, something she'd never seen Griz wear. Another
contained only suits, a dozen of them and all of good quality.
Underwear, handkerchiefs, sports shirts and khakis; everything a
well-dressed man would need. She recognized the labels from the
clothes her father wore, though his taste leaned toward
well-dressed gangster.