Authors: Debra Smith
She’d thought she was all cried out but a fresh batch of tears burned her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. She’d never give Carlos the satisfaction. Putting on her best show of indifference
, she dropped the shovel at her feet and walked to Carlos’s side.
“I’m glad you saw reason.”
She felt as if her true self was looking down on the events from the sky. It wasn’t really happening, she was still nestled next to Clint in bed and it was just a horrific nightmare. Every step she took brought reality hurling back to her. She wasn’t dreaming.
“She isn’t going anywhere with you.”
Oh God, Clara
.
Carlos’s eyes narrowed, “I have to compliment your stealth. I didn’t hear your approach.”
Alex’s gaze fell on Clara. The older woman held a sawed-off shotgun. Her face seemed carved by a lethal calm.
“That’s not surprising the way you just kept jabbering on. Now let her go before I give you another way to breathe air.”
Alex flinched when Clara cocked the shotgun. Air seemed to lodge in her throat as the events unfolded.
“Pity we have to meet this way
, Clara. I really had intended to spare your life, but now you leave me no choice.”
Carlos signaled to the men Alex had scented earlier.
They lunged for the woman that had become like a second mother to her, but not before she got a shot off. The world seemed to move in slow motion. A spray of crimson filled the air like a fine mist. Thunder echoed around her and one of the goons dropped to into a bloody puddle.
Clara cocked the gun again but the other man fell upon her
, wrestling for the weapon. He wrenched her hand back, and she yipped. The other panther held her by the throat.
Carlos nodded and with a sickening crack
, the light in Clara’s eyes faded.
“
No!”
The word burned her throat like acid. Her stomach tried to relieve its contents but there were none to be disposed of.
She collapsed to the ground one hand folded over her stomach, the other clawing at the ground. With her eyes filled with hate and disbelief, she snarled at Carlos.
“Monster.”
He just laughed at her, making her claws prick at her fingertips. She remembered how much his pretty face meant to him. Her secret wasn’t worth protecting if she could claim a small tendril of justice.
Her hand partially shifted
, turning into a mix between her cat form and her human one. Her nails turned dagger-like as she brought her hand across Carlos’s face.
His horrified eyes widened as realization hit.
His beautiful face ran with four rivers of blood where her claws left a mark.
“What have you done?” he spat.
A satisfied smile filled her face. “I just made your face match your heart—Deformed and ugly.”
His face contorted with anger as he smacked her across the face. Agony exploded under her skin and blackness clouded her vision. The cold sting of the pain was swiftly replaced by a raging inferno
. It still didn’t compare to the torment of losing the woman that made the world a better place. She was probably bruising, but it was worth every second of discomfort. She only wished she could do more for Clara.
A menacing growl sounded to her right and she stared in horror. Clint had come outside.
~***
*~
“That’s no way to treat a lady. You okay
, Little Cat?”
His heavy heart lost some weight as Alex nodded.
But surveying the area, his heart seized when he saw Clara crumbled on the ground.
He gazed at Alex as she answered his silent question.
“You sonofabitch. You’re mine.”
He lunged for the greasy bastard as white-hot rage consumed him. One thought repeated in his mind.
Protect.
Two sets of large hands gripped his arms
, slowing his progress but only a little. He would not be denied his vengeance. A loud banging near Gus’s stall drew his attention for the briefest moment.
“
Stop him, you imbeciles.”
Clint’s vision turned red as he crushed on
e of the hands holding him back. The urge to shift pulled at his subconscious, but he managed to hold his wolf back.
Another asshole lifted Alex off the ground and started dragging her toward a blacked
-out SUV.
“Do not touch her,” he snarled, sounding more like an animal than a man.
The greasy bastard had the nerve to look unaffected by Clint’s presence. Well almost. A single bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
“I will rip you limb from limb.”
He looked at Clint and shrugged. “Will you take care of him already?”
More men circled him as he finally gave into the urge to shift.
“Clint, the gun!” Alex screamed.
Blistering heat seared his side as he collapsed to the ground. Faintly he could hear Alex calling for him, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t call out to her. W
hines conveyed his discomfort. Another bang sounded from Gus’s shed, but then everything turned hazy and he could barely breathe. The sound of doors shutting and the smell of exhaust filled his nose. Was he really going to die?
Clint groaned as someone put a soft cool cloth on his forehead.
“Hush now
, son. Don’t try to get up. You lost a lot of blood and had a nasty hole in your shoulder.”
Light nearly blinded him as he trie
d to get his eyes to focus. His head felt as if someone was trying to use it to split wood not to mention the hollow ache burrowing into his shoulder.
An old wrinkled face with brown eyes shifted into focus.
“Who are you?”
“Not surprised you don’t recognize me. I don’t recognize myself.”
Strands of matted gray hair fell in messy clumps from his head.
The old man had the decency to look ashamed.
“I know I look a bit disheveled but in the state I was, I didn’t really care about the way I looked.”
“I’m sorry
, sir, but who are you?”
“Oh I’m sorry, you called me Gus, but my name is Bartholomew. You can call me Bart or Gus whatever you prefer.”
“Gus the donkey?”
Something must be really wrong with his head if he thought he was talking to Gus in human form.
“Yeah, I have to say I was a bit surprised too but after that sweet girl started talking to me about love I felt myself kind of wake up. I remembered I had something important to do. Then I heard the commotion and knew something was terribly wrong.”
“Gus?” Clint still couldn’t believe it.
“It’s going to take some getting used to, but yeah it’s me. I know you have a lot of questions, but I really need to clean up now that you’re out of the woods. There’s some warm broth on the table next to the bed.”
“How long have I been out?”
The old man er… Gus played with his overgrown beard.
“
A day. I have to say I’m quite impressed with your healing. It must be all that noble blood in your veins. Your father was the same way.”
“My father?
How do you know my father?”
“Now, now, you need to finish your soup and I will tell you all about our story when I get out of the bath.
Your friend Clay, I think it was is in the next room. I found him bound and gagged, partially starved next to the road. They must have pushed him out when they left.”
Sadness pooled in the old man’s eyes as he gripped Clint’s good shoulder.
“I’m sorry about Clara. She was a good woman. I took the liberty and buried her under the large pinion tree. I figured we could hold a proper ceremony when you are on your feet.”
“Thank you for that.”
He pushed all the raw emotion away and locked it up. It wouldn’t do Clara’s memory or Alex any good if he wasn’t on the top of his game.
Clint wanted to make the old man sit down and tell him everything. He wasn’t in the shape to do anything but sit there and listen.
So he watched Gus walk out of his room as he set himself to the task of getting better. He needed to get to Alex so he drank the broth and ate the bread.
He risked a glace under the bandage and was great but angry red skin. The buckshot made his shoulder look like minced hamburger but Gus was right. It was healing pretty quickly.
By the time he was done eating a new but still aged Gus stepped through the threshold.
“
Good job, that will help get your strength back. Here drink this.”
Clint grasped the foul
-smelling liquid and stared at the fluid reassembling algae filled pond water. If it would help get him on his feet he would not only drink it but he would bathe in it as well.
“That is nastier th
an the bottom of a pig’s foot.”
“Yeah, but it’ll help you get better. We have a girl to bring home. Now there’s a long story I have to tell you. I have to warn you though this isn’t a bedtime story and none of it is happy.”
Clint steeled his nerves and nodded. If life had taught him anything it was when to be quiet and listen. It was better to have more knowledge than your enemy.
Alex had made it home. She had yet to see her father but a servant promised her mother would see her before the Presentation. She felt numb. The days that took her to get there all blurred together filled with crying and heartbreak.
Clara was dead and it was her fault. The kindest woman she had ever met fell lifeless before her eyes under the orders of Carlos. Clenching her jaw, she fought the urge to scream. Clint had been shot and the last time she saw him he fell in pool of his own blood. She hadn’t heard a word and assumed the worst.
Each day her heart shriveled up
, knowing she could never feel for another the way she did for her cowboy.
She should have told him. At least he would have known how she felt. He could have died knowing how much he would be missed in the
world. Even the days seemed less bright like a special light no longer burned.
She tried to escape the first day, she had to get back to the ranch but each time she was caught and Carlos threatened her with death. She told him to do it
—she was dead inside anyway. But despite her best efforts he calmly shook his head and patted her hair as if she was child throwing a tantrum.
She pulled the expensive duvet over her head. Staying bed, lost in a sea of
overpriced softness seemed the only way to go. She hadn’t eaten or left her room. What was the point? She was doomed. Her parents hadn’t even come to see her—the bastards. She hated them.
A gentle knock sounded at the door.
“Go away,” she groaned.
“Miss
, I’m here to get you ready.”
“I am ready.”
“But miss, I must prepare you properly for the ceremony.”
“No.”
She tossed the covers down, exposing her clothes she had on the day they took her from the ranch. She smelled, and her hair stuck up every which way. But not taking care of herself kept Carlos at bay. She wasn’t about to cooperate.
“If I’m forced to go I won’t wear the damn dress.”
Her gaze shot to the couture gown. If you could call the sheer white frock a gown. It was more like a peep show outfit.
“Your language my lady, It doesn’t befit your station.”
Alex unleashed a tidal wave of curses, enough to make her dearly departed grandmother roll over in her grave.
The maid’s face tuned a bright pink as she bowed and shuffled out of the room.
She pulled the covers over her head and prayed for the darkness to end her misery. But instead misery loved company.
The covers flew off the bed
, and she gasped in shock.
“Now this is no way for my future wife to act.”
“Go to hell, Carlos.”
A sick pleasure filled her stomach as she saw her hand
iwork across his face. Her claw marks had succeeded in making him into a monster for everyone to see.
He noticed her line of vision and pressed a finger to the snarled,
puffy slashes.
“You think you’ve won some kind of victory. Let me be the first to tell you you’re wrong. I have everything I’ve ever wanted. Tonight I’
ll become the leader of the most powerful Clan. Haven’t you wondered why your father hasn’t come to see you?”
She had, but she wouldn’t dare admit it.
“He’s being held till after the ceremony. If you cooperate I will release him.”
“What do I care? He only cares for himself.”
“Well then if that won’t sway you I’ll harm your mother. My men are a bit randy after all the exercise tracking you down. I know they would love a few hours with a beauty like her. And if that’s not enough I will start killing women and children. One every hour you continue to act like a child.”