ROMANCE: Lion Protector (Paranormal Shifter BBW Military Romance) (Shapeshifter Alpha Male Short Stories Book 2) (45 page)

Chapter 29: Razor

Though I was strung out from the ride back from Fresno, I couldn’t wait another minute longer to see Kelly. Though I’d never been there before, she had given me the address to her apartment. Eager to surprise her, I found myself standing on the landing in front of her door and beating on it to get someone’s attention.

“Jesus! What the hell?” I heard from whoever was coming to answer the door. It wasn’t Kelly’s voice, and I was afraid that I might have gone to the wrong apartment.

“Oh, hi.” The voice of the attractive young woman, about Kelly’s age, changed to a much friendlier tone when she saw me.

“Does Kelly live here?”

“Depends on who’s asking,” she smiled.

“Anthony. I’m Anthony.”

“You’re Anthony? Wow. What a surprise. Kel!” she called out over her shoulder. “I’m Destiny. I’m her friend and roommate. Come on in. I’ll go get her.”

Destiny wasn’t gone long. “She’s not here. She came in last night from work, but she must have left.”

“Thanks,” I said, stepping back out the door.

“You’re welcome to wait for her. I’m sure she’ll be right back.”

“No, that’s okay.” I didn’t want to have to engage in some roommate interview while I waited on Kelly.

I decided to head back to my place and swing by the Panhead on the way. I had just swung my leg over my bike when I got a call from Pepper.

“Hey Pepper, what’s up? Did you get your beauty sleep?”

“We got a problem,” he said without responding to my question. “I think Shovelhead has nabbed Kelly.”

“What? Why?” I knew that Shovelhead and I were enemies, but I didn’t think that he would pull Kelly into it. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch this time! Where?”

“Kelly came into the bar asking questions and looking for you. I told her that you were home or on your way home. When she went out the door, Jake told me that he’d seen Shovelhead skulking around like he was up to something, so I ran to the door and saw Kelly’s car pulling out.”

“So, where the fuck are they?”

“He took her to Sabre’s hou—”

I disconnected the call and started the Road King before he even finished his sentence. It was the longest fifteen-minute ride of my life. My mind was focused on killing both Shovelhead and Sabre, and I wasn’t having any misgivings about it. When I saw Pepper and his bike about two blocks away from Sabre’s house, I signaled for him to follow me. I led him to the grove of elm trees and shut off my bike.

“It could be a trap,” Pepper announced in a low tone as we peered through the trees toward the house.

“You’re damned right it’s a trap, and those two sons of bitches are in it,” I growled. I could hear angry voices and knew that there wouldn’t be a better time to cross the yard. “Let’s go.”

Though it had been several years since Pepper had been on an op, it was just like riding a bike to him. He didn’t argue or hesitate, he just moved. We hurried across the lawn and were listening in on the tail end of their argument, which was right on the verge of becoming violent. For a moment, I considered letting them kill each other and then coming in to clean up the mess, but their argument was actually creating the perfect distraction for Pepper and me to take advantage of. Crouching at the kitchen door, I slowly turned the knob, pushed it open and slipped through. Pepper came through behind me and I gave him a hand signal to move down the hallway while I moved toward the door to the living room.

Borrowing a play out of Shovelhead’s own book, Pepper scooped up a broomstick as he slipped down the hall. He came to the opening that led into the living room and swung it at Shovelhead’s head, breaking it as the blow landed. From that point forward, Pepper and Shovelhead were just a blur in my peripheral vision as I attacked Sabre.

I had reached for my knife before rushing forward. My plan had been to get him in an arm bar and bring the knife to his throat for a quick kill, but he had stepped aside just in time and rolled me past him. I stumbled over the corner of the couch and tumbled to the floor. I carried the motion through and was on my feet when Sabre drew his blade and started toward me.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ slit your throat, bitch,” he growled.

I didn’t respond. What was the point? It was time for action, not words. Not that I was ever particularly verbose to begin with.

Sabre was good, I have to give him that. In fact, his blade drew first blood with a shallow strike that scratched my ribs and burned like the devil. From that point forward, I was alert and studying him. I didn’t want to get too cocky and start playing with him to see how he reacted, but I had never seen him fight before and needed to look for his weakness.

We’d exchanged several scratches before I finally found how to beat him. It wasn’t going to be easy, but I knew where to hit him. He had a tendency to focus too much on the use of his blade. He was good with it and there was no reason why he ought to abandon it with most people he fought, but with me, it was how I would take him down.

Watching for the right opening as he thrust at my gut, I rolled out, feeling a pretty good knick from his blade as I did so. I caught him in the back of the head with a roundhouse kick. It staggered him, but he didn’t go down. From that point forward, I had him beat, not because he was weakened by that blow, but because he started to anticipate that blow coming again and it changed his whole thought process.

I paid for it with some pretty deep gashes, but I came around and hit him with a backhand left that sent him tumbling backward. Seeing my opportunity, I rushed him, but he kicked out and caught me in the gut as I was coming in. It was enough for him to get back onto his feet. I was still catching my breath as he tried a punch of his own that rattled my jaw. He was starting to learn from me. I didn’t have much time. If he caught on too quickly, then I’d lose my advantage.

I started into the roundhouse again, knowing that he would go to block that maneuver, but I reversed it, came underneath and drove my blade up under his ribcage and it went in deep. Having learned that a man is not dead until he’s dead, I pulled my blade, rolled across his back and brought another fatal blow down on the side of his neck behind his collarbone. With that one, he collapsed to the floor.

Knowing that Sabre was down, I spun to see what had become of Shovelhead and Pepper. When I turned, however, I saw Kelly standing beside Pepper, and Shovelhead collapsed on the floor, but leaning against the wall. He had lost a lot of blood and he wasn’t going to make it, but he was still alive.

“Babe, are you okay?” I asked rushing toward her.

She nodded. “You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah, he scratched me a few times,” I answered, pulling her into my arms.

I could feel her shaking as she began to sob against my chest.

“It’s over, babe. All of it. It’s all over.” They were the only words that I could think of at the moment.

“Razor?” I heard Shovelhead’s feeble voice calling toward me.

I turned to look at him. He was going to tell me something, but he couldn’t spit it out. Suddenly, I had an idea. I moved over to him and extended my knife toward him. “Here, hold this.”

Shovelhead reached up, took hold of my knife and looked up at me with confused eyes. He tried to speak again, but Pepper, Kelly and I were already on our way out the door.

Chapter 30: Razor

The feel of her squeezing me as she moved up and down upon me was perfect. I watched that little strip of red hair on her otherwise smooth mound as it moved in that special rhythm that was all our own.

I let my eyes travel up her body to her pale breasts with the erect, bright pink nipples on them and reached up to caress them. I loved the fullness of them in my hands and the way that she sighed whenever I touched them.

My eyes didn’t stop at her breasts and nipples, but continued upward to the features of her angelic face, her soft red lips, her button nose and the sprinkling of freckles that was scattered across her nose and cheeks. It was her deep green eyes that sent an even greater thrill through me. The way that they looked into mine spoke volumes to me and I knew that she was just as in love with me as I was with her.

She continued looking into my eyes, biting her lower lip as she rolled her hips back and forth on me. I could see that her pleasure was reaching a climax, not only by the way the expression on her face changed, but by the soft flame that began to spread over her eyes. Within moments, she closed them, rocked her head back and let out that odd eagle/bear combination that was uniquely hers.

We had made love throughout the night, fallen asleep a couple of times and then awakened once more with the sun streaming through the windows of our motel room. It had been the perfect way to wake up.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” I said after we had both finished our morning wake-up. Before that moment, not a word had been spoken.

“Good morning, my love,” she whispered.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. It was mostly because I was starving and hoping that we could grab something to eat in the restaurant that was attached to the motel.

“I’m starving,” she giggled. “You took it all out of me.”

“Let’s grab a quick shower,” I said, sliding out from under the sheets.

“I don’t know about quick,” she laughed. She was referring to the fact that our shower the night before was what touched off one of the wildest sexual encounters that we’d had to date.

It would have happened anyway, because the two of us had been playing and teasing each other all day long, and we were close to exploding. It seemed that our new freedom had fanned the flames of the fire and it was burning hotter than ever.

Miraculously, or because we were both starving, we finished our shower without incident. Okay, there was one incident involving my fingers and her smooth mound, some moaning and another orgasm for her. But we hadn’t ended up taking it any further than that. We dressed and stepped out into the morning light. We already smelled the fresh, cool air of Colorado as we walked to the restaurant.

While waiting on our breakfast to be brought to the table, I could tell that the reality of what we had done and were doing was beginning to sink in for her. I still hadn’t felt it necessary to bring up that I had been a hired killer for the Godfather. I wasn’t sure that it was ever necessary. It was no longer a part of me, and I had no intention of ever returning to it. So, I pushed forward with a question.

“Are you still up for Steamboat?”

“Of course,” she replied. Once she got started, she just kept going. “I’ll get a job and see if I can find somewhere to go to school. With your woodworking skills, you can open up a shop. We’ll make it work. We’ll make a new start. We may have to settle for a small place at first—”

“Babe,” I interrupted after a few moments. “What are you worrying about?”

“We don’t have anything but the clothes that we stuffed into your saddlebags and the cash in your wallet. I have a little bit, but—”

I interrupted her again, grinning. “They have ATMs in Colorado, and I’m loaded.”

“But you can’t use an ATM. You can’t even think about using your bank account. They’ll track you down for killing Viktor and Shovelhead.”

“Why would they do that?”

She just looked at me. It was the sort of look that someone gives when they think that something is just too obvious.

“First of all, they’ll match my knife, which I left in Shovelhead’s hand, to the wounds on Sabre. Since Shovelhead is a Silent Brotherhood and Sabre is a Lost Disciple, their first conclusion will be that the two of them fought each other, Shovelhead killed Sabre and then slowly bled out.”

She stared at me blankly, so I continued. “If they should connect Anthony Polizziano to it at all, they’d discover that Anthony Polizziano disappeared.”

“But your house, your bank account, your money?”

“My house is in Pepper’s name. It always has been.”

The wrinkle on her brow deepened.

“I bought it from him, but never changed the name on the deed.”

“Okay, the bank account from which you plan to be drawing money?”

“That was never in my name either.”

“But why?”

I could tell that she was beginning to wander down the path that I hoped we could avoid. I had to stop her before she went too far.

“I was a Navy SEAL,” I started out. “We are a very discreet bunch, even after we retire. You see, if I was ever connected to certain operations, there are people out there who wouldn’t hesitate to track me down—people much more dangerous than the FBI or U.S. law enforcement. It’s the same for all of us. So, we create separate identities to keep ourselves safe.”

“So, we don’t have to stay on the run and always be looking over our shoulder?”

“Not unless you want to,” I grinned. “It could be fun, but I sort of thought that you were stuck on Steamboat.”

My explanation had satisfied her for the moment. The arrival of our breakfast also pulled the two of us away from the subject, and we devoured it, hardly speaking a word. I paid the tab and we went back to the room to pack our stuff. It wasn’t until we were putting the last of our things into the saddlebags on the bike that she finally let it all go.

“Hold on a sec,” she said, shoving me back into the room, pressing me hard against the wall and kissing me furiously.

“You better stop that or we’ll never get on the road,” I responded when she finally stopped and looked up at me.

“I love you, Anthony, or whoever you are. I always have and I always will, even though I still don’t understand.”

“I love you too, babe. Relax, this badass of yours can handle anything,” I grinned.

She turned away, went out the door and swung a leg over the Road King. “Come on bad boy. Let’s not keep Steamboat waiting.”

We stopped at the front desk and she followed me in, which was suspicious in itself, because she usually stayed on the bike. She grinned up at me as if she was up to something the entire time.

“Thank you for your stay, Mister Fairchild,” the desk clerk said, handing my credit card back to me. “Please come visit us again.”

As we started out of the motel lobby, Kelly started giggling. I’d figured out what she’d been up to. “Fairchild?”

“Yes, William Fairchild.”

Thank God for the rumble of tuned pipes on a Harley Davidson. I flexed my wrist and felt the power of the iron horse between my legs kick in as we started out of the motel parking lot with the roar of the engine drowning out her laughter.