That shit was going to stop. “Go on.”
“When Bru was killed, this guy”—she waved toward the still gasping Craven—“raised my rent again. People like me don’t get rental agreements. We get a wink and a nudge. So he raised it and I can’t pay it. I’ve been doing the best I can, but…” She shrugged and the insecurity and unease in her gaze made him want to hug her close. “But it’s not enough. I got home this morning and found an eviction notice on my front door and my place was empty.” She focused on Craven and before Keen could blink, she kneed the asshole in the balls. “You took all my cash, dickhead.”
Had the man been able to breathe, he probably would have cried out in pain. But he couldn’t. So he didn’t.
“Your things? Your money?” Rage suffused him, filling his every breath. “What made it worse tonight?”
“I at least had a couch, a table, and a bed in there. They came with the apartment. Now I’ve got nothing.” She rushed forward again, but this time Keen managed to catch her with his free arm.
“Easy now.” He noted the trembles that wracked her body. She was pissed and—he breathed deep—scared as hell.
Yup, not happening. Not to his Trista.
“I left the SUV running. Why don’t you go get in there for me?”
The shakes increased. “But—”
“I’ll take care of this, you go.”
“I—” She stared at him, hope, fatigue, and anxiety filling her gaze.
“I’m going to chat with Craven and then you and I can talk in the SUV. Let me help you, Trista. You don’t know me, you have no reason to trust me, but take a deep breath and know I’m just trying to help.” He prayed she could smell past his rage at Craven and discover he spoke the truth.
“Keen…”
Carefully, so damned carefully because he valued his junk, he pulled her close to him and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Let me do this and then we can speak.”
She took so long to reply that he wondered if she could suddenly no longer form words.
“Okay.” The word was barely a whisper, but his beast rejoiced in her small measure of trust.
He watched her walk away, watched the sway of her hips—damn she was something—and the way her hands trembled as her arms hung limply at her sides. That took the small ounce of pleasure he’d experience away in a heartbeat.
Hand still wrapped around Craven’s throat, he focused on the male. “Now, with very small words, explain to me why you felt your behavior was acceptable.”
He eased his hold enough to let the male to breathe. “That bitch—”
“Ah, ah, ah.” He allowed his nails to prick the man’s skin. “That was too big. Try again.”
A good fifteen minutes later, Keen left the male in a quivering, whining mess. When he rounded the corner and spied a decidedly pale Trista huddled on his front seat, he wondered why he hadn’t slaughtered the asshole landlord. The bear wanted to know why, too.
Good point.
Keen spun and headed back the way he came. Trista could wait five more minutes.
*
Trista had one thought whirling through her mind as Keen placed the SUV in reverse. It had nothing to do with a plastic bag filled with her belongings that he’d tossed into the backseat. Nor were they centered on the wad of cash he’d pushed into her hands.
No. The only thing she could focus on was the fact his knuckles were bloody.
Because of her.
Not because he’d hit her, but because he’d fought for her. He’d fought and then gotten back some of her things. Staring at the ball of money in her lap, she realized she wasn’t poor any longer.
Okay, she wasn’t rich, but she could at least spring for a hotel for a few nights and actually
eat
.
It made her wonder if there was more to Keen than a pretty face and quick, seductive smile.
“Thank you.” Her words broke the silence. “I know I didn’t deserve your help and I’ve been nothing but a bitch, but thank you.”
Keen grunted.
He drove farther along Sunwell and then turned onto Main Street. They traveled along in silence, the rhythmic thump of the tires rolling over asphalt warring with the sound of their breathing. Moments passed and she spied the sign for the single hotel in their small town.
They approached and he didn’t slow, the SUV maintaining its speed as he flew by.
She half-turned in her seat, pointing behind them as she faced him. “You passed the hotel.”
“Yes.”
That was it. A single word, a single syllable.
“And amazingly enough, I’m staying at the hotel for the next few days.”
He flicked his blinker and the harsh clicking of the indicator stung her ears. “Not really, no.”
The SUV eased right and she gripped her seat to remain steady. “What do you mean ‘no’?”
“Well, my discussion with Craven—”
She snorted. Apparently bloodied knuckles constituted a “discussion” in his world. He grumbled something about not killing males who deserved it, before he spoke.
“After my
discussion
”—he glared at her—“with Craven, it’s best if you stay with me at the clan den for the time being.”
“You?”
“Me.”
“But you… I’m… It’s just…” She shook her head. “I really appreciate what you did for me. I mean…” She swallowed past the lump at her throat and stared at the money once again. It wasn’t a lot to some people, but it was huge to her. “Thank you. But I’m not staying with you. I’m not going anywhere with you but to the hotel. You and I being near a bed ain’t happening.”
Ever. Because he was too tempting and probably knew a million ways to seduce someone. Not that he’d seduce her or want to seduce her, but she did have a vagina…
“Uh-huh.”
Trista tried again. “Don’t you remember? You’re supposed to be running me out of town on a misguided concept of authority and righteousness, not leading me to my potential death and dismemberment. Hopefully in that order if it has to happen.”
This time they turned left, bouncing over the rutted road, but she couldn’t be bothered with their surroundings. The important thing was to get him to swing his happy SUV-driving ass around and take her to the hotel. Going anywhere with an Abrams was a bad, bad idea.
Really bad.
“Misguided?” He glanced at her, a single brow raised.
Trista winced. “Misguided may not have been the right word. Maybe ignorant. That’s better. It’s more ignorance and authority than anything.”
Based on his frown, she didn’t think she’d made things better. A closer look revealed she may have made it worse.
“I’m ignorant? Do you know who I am?”
“Is that a trick question? We’ve already established you’re Keen Abrams. Your brothers are Ty, Van, and Isaac. The Itan, Enforcer, and Healer respectively. Also, in case you were wondering, they’d probably enjoy me being on the ‘die today’ menu.”
Suddenly the SUV came to a jerky stop, the action causing her to thump against her seat with a grunt. He cut the engine and shoved his door open, leaving her to gawk at her surroundings. The house that loomed before them was massive and yet it appeared welcoming. It had that old-world, southern charm thing going on with its high pillars and white exterior.
It also had a very large glaring male standing next to a very pregnant female who was bracketed by a familiar, very evil bear cub.
Keen appeared at her door, tugging it open before reaching across her and freeing her from the seatbelt.
“You really did bring me to the clan den.” He didn’t deny it and her doom stood on the porch and crossed his massive arms over his chest. “Please remember: death
then
dismemberment. That part is important.”
Yup, dying, dead, and gone.
“Hush.”
She shook her head. “Keen—”
He placed his finger over her lips. “Hush. You need a place to stay and, for now, this is where I’m at. So, you’re crashing here. I’ll keep you safe.”
She licked his finger to get him to stop touching her. No matter their age, boys did not like getting licked by surprise. “You’re tying the words ‘you’ and ‘where I’m staying’ together and I don’t like that.”
“Trista,” he sighed. “Right now, I need you to let it go.”
She looked at him then, stared into his eyes that should be brown and were now black. Allowing her gaze to shift to the male on the porch, she quickly redirected it to Keen.
“I’m going to be safe? I’m really not ready to die.” She wasn’t prepared to join her mother.
“You’re going to be safe,” he nodded.
“Even from him and the spawn from the seventh level of hell?”
Keen glanced over his shoulder and then turned back to her, a smile on his lips. “Yes, even from the spawn.”
“Why should I trust you?” That was the big one. When she moved past everything that’d happened in the last several hours there was one thing glaringly obvious.
Token protests. She’d given half-hearted objections when he’d done this or that. For some reason, that snarly part of her wanted to be near Keen and worked to push aside every objection she had.
Keen brushed strands of her hair from her face and tucked them behind her ear. His fingertips skimmed her cheek, callused skin abrading hers, but she didn’t want him to stop touching her. The scent of Craven’s blood hit her nose, but beneath it lurked Keen’s and she was okay with that.
Okay with his nearness, his touch, his decisions…
Stupid animal thing that trusted him and accepted that he could—would—defend her.
“Because I understand the laws of visitation and you know the textbook definition of purge. Because I think dealing with people like Craven is pretty standard for you and maybe I’d like to show you it doesn’t have to be.” He cupped her cheek and his tenderness nearly brought tears to her eyes.
Nearly.
“And worst case, I’ll take you wherever you want to go in the morning. For right now, give in and sleep.”
Rhinos stomped through her stomach, bringing along a good dose of panic and fear.
“I won’t be safe here, Keen.” She wheezed out the words.
“Yes, you will. You’ll be here as my guest.”
She snorted. “Of the bears? The ones who drove out an entire pack of hyenas? Which, by the way, I happen to be one.”
So was her mother. Kind of. Sorta, but not really.
“Trista?” His gaze remained focused on her while he caressed her cheek. “I’ll take care of you.”
She wanted to believe him so, so badly. For once in her life, she wanted to be able to lean on someone else. Just once…
Making a decision, she brushed aside his touch and straightened. She drew her emotions back into her body, hiding them. She’d try and believe in him, but she’d keep her heart locked away and out of reach. “I have to be out of Grayslake and at the gas station by eleven.”
He frowned, but nodded. “I’ll get you there. C’mon.”
C’mon. Like it was so easy to crawl from the SUV and follow a man toward the male who may have ordered her mother’s death.
Right.
Keen kept his grip tight on Trista’s hand, twining their fingers together as he held her captive. He sensed her resistance, her desire to flee, but he couldn’t let that happen. Not when this simple touch of skin on skin soothed his bear like no other. How many women had he been through while searching for this sense of calm?
Too many to count.
Yet, with this simple connection, his bear was focused on
protection
and not
destruction
.
A novel experience for him.
He drew her closer to the clan den, his feet crunching over the pale gravel driveway. Eventually the rocks gave way to grass, the soft earth welcoming him, and then he stood before the steps leading to the home.
Steps that led to the porch which, in turn, led to Ty and Mia. Mia’s expression was open and welcoming with a touch of wariness. He couldn’t blame her for the emotions, her reaction to Trista.
Hyenas had ripped their lives apart, had been responsible for deaths and scarring wounds, but that wasn’t Trista’s doing.
“Ty, Mia.” He bared his neck and his bear snarled in protest. He was stronger, faster, and bigger than his older brother.
But they sure as shit didn’t want to be in charge. Which was why he showed Ty the deference due the clan’s Itan and kept a lid on his beast. Unless the fucker wanted to lead the Grayslake clan, it’d shut its trap. Reminded of that, the animal quieted pretty damned fast.
Ty narrowed his eyes, attention shifting between Keen and Trista before finally settling on Keen. He tilted his head toward Trista. “What’s she still doing in town? I purged Boyne Falls. I think it’s pretty obvious that I don’t want hyenas anywhere near here. Redby either. This part of Georgia is closed to them.”
Keen nodded. “Yes, if she were making her home in Boyne Falls, she’d be violating your decree. Since she’s not,” he shrugged, “she’s not. She’s abiding the laws of visitation.”
“You can spout laws all day, Keen”—Ty’s glared hardened—“but she’s not coming into this house. Hell, I don’t want her in Grayslake.”
Keen raised his eyebrows. “Not coming in? Amazingly enough, she is. Laws of visitation with a dash of occupation. It boils down to the fact that she can visit the territory and she can safely stay with anyone who grants her shelter. Since I live here, I’m granting it. Step aside, Ty.” Focusing on his older brother, he placed his foot on the bottom step and then rose to the second. Ty didn’t look like he was gonna budge. “Move. Aside.”
Finally, Mia spoke. “Ty,” she whispered. “You know he’s probably right.”
Keen almost snorted. Probably right? There was no question. He’d happily flip through the books in his office, his ex-office, and point out his justification for Trista’s presence.
Ty breathed deeply and then froze as a ripple, a gradual wave, overtook his skin. Brown fur quickly followed in its wake, coating his brother’s arms and neck. It snaked higher, slithering until his cheeks were equally covered. “I know that scent, Keen.”
“I’m sure you do. You met a lot of hyenas that day.”
That day. The day Ty waded into Boyne Falls and with the help of the wolves, rid the town of their infestation. Rid the area of shifters like Trista. He had no doubt there were many who deserved to die at the time, but what about women like Trista? What about them?