Wolf at the Door (11 page)

“Yes, sir.”

“And call Tate and order a phone tap.” Timber
might not like it, but Brandt couldn’t think of any other way to
keep her safe. He wanted to know where this bastard was calling
from, wanted to know everything he said to her. Because somewhere
along the line, Charles Wolfe was going to slip up, and Brandt was
going to be right there to bring him down.

Brandt left them both on the lawn and strode
up to Timber’s porch. The door was locked, and he had to knock
several times before he heard the lock turn over. Timber opened it
for him, her shoulder braced against the hallway wall. In the dim
light of the narrow room she looked so vulnerable. Shaken.

Brandt took a step closer and she stiffened.
“You okay?”

“Better.”

She shoved away from the wall and walked
toward the kitchen. The smell of citrus teased at his nose, but
underneath he caught the acidic reek of vomit. Shit. She shouldn’t
have been alone for that call. Brandt saw the mop and bucket
sitting beside the refrigerator. “We’re still looking into how he
got your number.”

“He knows where I live, knows how to call me,
how long before he makes it the rest of the way in?” She didn’t
look at him while she asked the question. Instead, she stared out
at the pair of Hounds still standing on her lawn. Hell. Brandt
couldn’t help wondering just how much she knew. Had she seen Wolfe
out there today?

“He was here, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Because lying to her wasn’t an
option. She deserved better than that.

She turned so that her back was to the
counter, her palms braced against the edge, and looked at him.
“Teach me how to shoot.”

A spurt of surprise slammed through him.
“Timber...”

“I’m not asking, Brandt. You’ll teach me, or
I’ll find someone who will. But I won’t have him coming up on me
before I’m at the point where a gun feels comfortable in my hand.
When he comes for me...and you know he’s going to...I want to make
sure he’s the one lying dead instead of me. I want to be able to
fight back. I will not be weak. He doesn’t get another chance to
break me.”

“All right.” A niggling voice in his mind
tried to convince him he was being an idiot, that he’d regret this.
But right now Timber needed confidence. Not necessarily in him or
the Hounds who worked for him, but in
herself
. She needed to
know she stood a chance. “Have you thought about self-defense
classes?”

“I took a few shortly after I got far enough
away from Charles to feel safe. Time encourages you get lax,
though.” She shook her head. “I thought this was over.”

Brandt studied her a moment. The skin around
her eyes was drawn tight, pale. She’d been holed up in this house
like a trapped rabbit. She needed to get out, get some space, some
air, and feel like someone who could defend herself.

Sitting here at home, she had to feel like
bait.

If he took her to Shifter Town Enforcement,
she’d be safer there for the next several hours than anywhere else,
and just maybe she’d lose that hunted edge to her eyes. Hell, it
was worth a shot.

“Do you want to go now?” He tilted his head
for the door and saw the flash of relief shoot through her. She’d
expected a refusal, expected to have to fight for it.

Timber jerked her head in a small nod.
“Please.”

“Then let’s go.” She started for the door
when he caught her arm. This time she didn’t flinch. Already, some
small ounce of confidence was bleeding back into her. “You’re going
to be okay.”

“You’ve done well up to now, Brandt, making
sure you don’t make statements or promises you can’t keep. Please
don’t—”

He couldn’t help but smile. She’d seen that,
understood his hesitancy. “This isn’t a promise of protection. I’m
telling
you, you’re going to be okay. You beat him once, you
can do it again. And I know you don’t want to have to do it again.
I know that. But the woman you are right now, right here, is ten
times the woman you were when he first grabbed you.”

“You didn’t know me then.”

“I’m getting to know you now. And the woman
standing in front of me will fight harder and longer than the woman
you were four years ago. Sometimes fear isn’t a bad thing.
Sometimes it makes us stronger.”

Her gaze met his, her eyes glinting with
tears. “Are you ever scared?”

“Yeah.”

“About what?”

Brandt let her arm go. There were a thousand
things he could say, little white lies that were tempting, just to
make her feel better. But she’d been nothing but honest with him,
so she deserved nothing less in return.

Brandt glanced at the window. He could see
the bush where Charles Wolfe had hidden and watched this afternoon.
Wolfe had been so damn close to her. “Right now? I’m scared that no
matter how hard I try, no matter how badly I want to keep it from
happening, he’s going to get to you before I can stop him.” Brandt
forced himself to look back at her, his gaze meeting hers. “I’m
worried that, no matter how much I want to keep you safe, how much
I want all of Shifter Town Enforcement to have your back, that he’s
going to beat us all, and that, in the end, it’s really going to be
up to you to save yourself.”

He watched her throat squeeze as she
swallowed. “I’m scared of that too.”

He didn’t tell her he was terrified that
she’d die if Wolfe caught her this time. And not just her, but
others, too. How many were going to die before he caught this
bastard? How many families would he have to talk to?

Instinct, the same kind that motivated his
inner canine, demanded he protect those around him. It was a desire
imprinted in his bones, into every fiber in his body, into his
soul. It was the reason he’d been driven for as long as he could
remember to be the alpha, to be the one to make sure everyone
around him was safe. But dominance, power, it all came with a
price.

And the price of failure could weigh heavier
than anything else.

“Timber,” Brandt said softly, and he waited
for some of the fear to ebb from her face. “I don’t give up.”

“Nor does Charles.”

Brandt shook his head and stepped closer. The
heat of her skin warmed his as he leaned into her. He didn’t want
her able to look away, not right now. “I don’t care about him. What
I need to know is, are
you
going to give up?”

Strength flooded back into her then. There
was an edge of steel to her eyes, a hardened line in her jaw, a
tension in her shoulders. “No,” she whispered, and that one word
came with all the determination anyone could wish for.

Brandt couldn’t help it, then. He ran his
knuckles along her cheek. Her skin was soft, but he could feel the
cord of muscle in her jaw, still locked and tense. “Then you’re
going to be okay.”

And, God, he hoped he wasn’t lying.

“And know this,” he continued. “If he does
get you out from under our protection, you won’t be alone, because
I’ll still be fighting to get to you.”

The corners of her mouth edged up in a small
smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good.”

Because that was one thing he
could
guarantee. He wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself like the
Hounds before him. That was one faith she could cling to. That,
even if every other thing they feared came to pass, at least this
time there was someone fully committed to getting her back.

Chapter Eleven

Timber
thrashed awake, her legs tangled in sweat-stained sheets, a scream
lodged in her throat. She fisted her hands against her pillowcase
and bit down on the fluff, refusing to scream. Just a dream. It was
just a fucking dream. And she was so tired of having them. She
closed her eyes, ignoring the wet streak as a tear slipped down her
cheek.

She couldn’t keep doing this.

Couldn’t keep hiding. She felt like a kicked
pup, constantly feeling sorry for herself, whimpering in the
corner. Today had been a start, at least. She flexed her hands,
remembering the feel of metal against her palms, the kick of the
gun when it went off. The stink of gunpowder. Brandt had made her
wear earmuffs, but it’d done little to muffle the noise.

Timber gusted out a long breath. She’d ripped
that target to shreds, until there was nothing but a gaping hole in
the silhouette’s chest. For the first time in a long time, she’d
felt powerful. Strong. Unbeatable. She’d never been much of a gun
person. She could shift into a wolf, had fangs and claws that could
tear a person apart. But at the Enforcement’s shooting range, she’d
felt more powerful than she could have imagined.

Yeah, it was a start. No more letting
nightmares ruin her life. She’d locked herself in solitude. Oh,
sure, she’d helped people. But Bear Creek had never been a
permanent pack. The women had come and gone throughout the years,
the pack just a stepping stone to a different life. She hadn’t had
a friend, someone constant in years.

Not until Brandt.

Her fingertips brushed her cheek, and she
could almost feel his rough knuckles skimming along her skin. He
made her want to have someone in her life again, made her want to
be touched. To laugh and smile and have someone to share new
memories with. Her breast tingled as she remembered how close he’d
gotten, his breath against her lips, when he’d made her that
promise.

Her fingers slid to her lips, recalling his
kiss, and heat pooled between her thighs. She wanted to kiss him
again. Timber leaned back in her bed with a groan. And now she
definitely wasn’t going to sleep. At least this time it wasn’t
because of the nightmares.

With a sigh, she shoved off the bed. Slamming
her feet into her slippers, she made her way down the stairs.
Brandt was sprawled out on her couch. A loose sheet hung around his
hips, his bare feet sticking out one end.

It was the other end that made her mouth
dry.

The silver moonlight drifting through her
curtains seemed to carve him out of alabaster, every muscle, every
hard line of his torso, was sketched out in the soft light. A few
stray dark curls fell across his temple. His jaw was shadowed with
stubble. A dark line of hair made a trail down his lower abdomen
until it disappeared beneath the sheet riding his hips. She
swallowed, suddenly parched. There was no un-seeing the man
sleeping on her couch. Though even if she could, she wouldn’t wipe
the memories clean.

Seeing Brandt like that woke her up,
electrified things she’d long thought dead.

Timber sighed and leaned back against the
wall, just watching him sleep. The steady rise and fall of his
chest. Everything inside her tightened, desire curling through her
in a fiery rush. She barely held back a wry laugh.

Shoulda stayed in bed, girl
.

But there was no way Timber could haul
herself back up those stairs, not with Brandt sprawled out like a
banquet in front of her. Her throat went dry. She wanted to run her
hand over those lean muscles, feel the smooth hair under her
fingertips, the heat of his body against her skin.

She closed her eyes. How long had it been
since she’d even thought about sex?

God, she couldn’t remember.

And yet, she’d kissed him yesterday and
wanted to kiss him again. A complete stranger, and here she was
staring down at him while he slept, but even as the thought crossed
her mind, she couldn’t help smiling. A stranger who already knew
more about her than she’d ever told anyone. A stranger who hadn’t
walked out the door, no matter how many outs she’d given him, or
how badly she’d treated him in the beginning.

He’d already proven to be more important to
her life than anyone else in many years.

And she was a fool if she thought it wasn’t
going to hurt when he finally walked away. It had to happen sooner
rather than later. Charles was a patient man, sick as fuck, but
patient. Brandt couldn’t sleep on her couch for weeks on end,
hoping to outlast him. He might not give up, but he couldn’t live
like this forever.

Even if he did make one heck of a pretty
sight.

Running her hand over her sleep-tangled hair,
Timber tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling. It didn’t have
to be forever. Once upon a time, she’d been a forever kind of gal.
Wouldn’t have considered dating if she hadn’t been looking for The
One. Relationships had never been casual to her.

Then she’d endured hell with Charles, and
relationships had ceased to exist.

She wasn’t sure she believed in finding a
perfect match anymore. But occasional, casual, just
someone
in her life, however fleeting...that didn’t sound so bad.
Especially if it meant another kiss or two from the Hound stretched
out on her couch.

“And you are bad,” she whispered to herself,
shaking off the fantasies before she did something very foolish.
“Thinking thoughts you have no business thinking.”

She was halfway across the room when she
paused, her gaze drifting over his sun-bronzed skin again, the lean
cut of his torso, the dark curl of his hair. There was nothing in
the kitchen that would slake her sudden, burning curl of need.
Timber bit her lip, wavering.

Upstairs, she could finger herself off, but
the thought of Brandt waking, of him hearing, made her knees
tremble, threatening to give out from under her. Fuck, but after
everything, what she wanted was
him
. One night, two rational
adults.

It was a stupid idea, one Brandt might not
even go for. After all, she was supposed to be a job. People
weren’t supposed to sleep with their assignments. She rocked back
and forth on her heels, debating, when Brandt stirred, one muscled
arm rising to rest across his forehead just as his dark eyes
blinked open. In an instant they seemed to cut through the darkness
and land on her.

Suddenly he was awake, his body tensing. He
slowly sat up. “Everything okay?”