Shifter Town 3 - Big Cats Don't Purr (21 page)

Sawyer smiled. “I got this.”

But when her eyes found Rift’s they softened. He wanted to scream at her, toss back his head and roar. Cane Creek wanted
him
. He should be the one waltzing into danger. His muscles bunched under his skin as he fought the urge to grab her and tie her to the nearest tree. Rift’s gaze skimmed down over the vest covering her chest, the mike settled in her ear.

For the first time since he’d met her she looked like a Hound.

Sawyer’s hand found the side of his face, her fingertips soothing over the rough stubble. Cupping the back of his neck, she pulled his head down for a quick kiss. It was harder than he thought to keep the kiss light and easy. When she was going to turn away from him and stride into danger.

Rift nipped over her bottom lip, almost demanding she stay, but he was the one who pulled back first. “Be careful.”

She nodded. And then, for the second time in as many days, Sawyer walked out of his life. But this time he knew she was coming back.

Or he was going in after her.

Chapter Twenty

Sawyer crept across the lawn, hoping like hell she was right and the pride males were still asleep. She couldn’t remember a time where they’d been awake before seven, but that didn’t mean a thing if they were expecting Rift. Easing around the side of the house, Sawyer made her way to the door the lionesses used. It would let her straight into the kitchen, and while they almost could have risked the pack following her in, Sawyer wasn’t sure she could keep the women quiet if anyone other than her walked inside.

Dougal made damn sure his lionesses were more scared of him than anyone else.

The door eased open under her hand and Sawyer slipped inside. Jenna stood in the kitchen, a pan in her hand. Sawyer barely stifled a whimper when her gaze landed on the other woman.

Bruises lined Jenna’s arms, crisscrossed her neck a mottled echo of a choke chain. Claw marks decorated her wrists, and Sawyer saw the red puckered lines disappearing beneath the baggy t-shirt Jenna wore. Sawyer bit her lip and looked Jenna in the eye. The other lioness stood there, frozen. Her whole body shook with tremors—from fear, from pain, Sawyer couldn’t tell.

She lifted a finger to her mouth in a gesture of silence, her gaze pleading.

One scream from Jenna and it could all be over. Chances were Sawyer could make it back to Brandt and Rift, but Kinsey...

She couldn’t even think about that.

“Please,” Sawyer mouthed, her finger still hovering her lips.

Jenna’s wide eyes took in the STE vest across her chest, the gun at her hip. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but Sawyer didn’t have time to explain. She glanced around the kitchen. Just them. Someone moved in another room and every nerve in her body lit with caution.

“Where is she?” Sawyer whispered.

Jenna shook her head, a tear sliding down her cheek.

“Jenna, where is Kinsey?” When the woman still didn’t say a word Sawyer crossed the kitchen to her, her steps quiet on the tile, and she gripped Jenna by the arm. “Please, for the love of God, protect your daughter. Where is she?”

Pain flickered through Jenna’s eyes, and for a moment Sawyer almost believed Kinsey was already gone. Then Jenna whispered, her voice so low Sawyer could barely hear her. “She’s not here. There keeping her at the cabin.”

Relief slammed through her. Kinsey was alive. For now.

Masculine laughter sounded from outside, followed by a boot hitting the wooden steps and Sawyer tensed, her eyes widening. Shit. Someone was up and on their way in. Her gaze slammed into Jenna’s pleading.
Please.
Sawyer slipped across the room and into the pantry, closing the shuttered doors behind her. They were whisper-soft as they slid into place.

“Sawyer?” Brandt’s whisper came through the mike, but she shushed him, just as she heard the kitchen door swing open and Jerome strode inside.

Sawyer watched Jerome through the pantry door slats. He shoved his phone in his pocket, his gaze raking over Jenna’s body, right before his lip curled into a sneer. His hair was still tousled from a night spent away from home, and he smelled like sex and booze. She wondered which of the pride women he’d dragged into his bed.

“What are you doing in here?” His words whipped out, and Sawyer flinched right alongside Jenna. “Dougal’s little prize bitch.”

Jenna winced as he stepped closer, her back bumping into the stove and Sawyer’s heart broke for her. Jerome reached for Jenna, his hand circling her neck over the bruises there, and Sawyer’s stomach twisted at the ugly light that flared in his eyes. Aroused. She wanted to vomit. “Maybe you’d like to come with me sometime. I show you a good time.” He grinned, his dark lips pulling back to reveal the sharp teeth of his lion-half. “Dougal don’t protect you anymore. So you could be mine, baby, any time I want.”

Jenna shuddered as his finger trailed a circle over her neck. Sawyer pressed her hand to her stomach. She didn’t want to watch this, but there was nothing she could do for Jenna. Nothing that wouldn’t get Kinsey killed.

He moved closer and Jenna dropped the pan with a pleading whimper, but he only laughed and tightened his hand around her neck. Sawyer fingered her gun, wishing like hell she could pull it. That she could stop this.

The floor creaked in the hall and her gaze darted to the kitchen door as it swung open. Tavis glanced at the scene in the kitchen, then cut his gaze to Jerome. “ Dougal wants you down at the lake.”

Anger coursed through his words, sharp enough that both Sawyer and Jenna flinched.

Jerome leaned in and nipped Jenna’s cheek, but he was talking to Tavis when he spoke, “I thought he wanted backup when the rogue gets here.”

Tavis gave a disgusted snort. “My brother and I will handle the rogue. You keep the girl alive until we’ve taken care of him.”

“Fine. But I get the bitch when we’re done.” Jerome tapped Jenna’s cheek before heading for the door.

Sawyer watched him go, wanting to follow, but Tavis was still standing in the kitchen, and she wanted to scream. Someone had to get to Jerome before he reached the cabin. Someone had to have overheard the discussion through her mike. If they could catch Jerome, there would only be one lion in that cabin with Kinsey. They could rescue easily in that case.

But as Tavis leaned against the counter, his eyes on Jenna, there was nothing Sawyer could do but wait and worry.

***

Rift crouched in the bushes, his thigh muscles screaming. Brandt had had the pack surround the houses to the best of their ability, and Rift had been given an earpiece and a job, just like everyone else Brandt commanded. He’d have argued, but at least the Hound had given him the vantage point with a clear sight to the door Sawyer had disappeared into.

But simply watching as Jerome strode up those steps, his phone pressed to his ear, had been the hardest thing Rift had ever done. His hands kept fisting at his sides and the Hound next to him kept sidling further away from him, as if he expected Rift to explode any second. Of course, the longer the bastard was in there, with Sawyer silent on the communication system, the harder it was for him
not
to explode.

He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to wait it out.

Voices crackled over the earpieces, and Rift tried to focus on them, but they were hushed, muted. No one was screaming, though. That had to be a good thing, right? The muscles in his shoulders were locked so tight he half expected them to snap any second.

The door opened again and Jerome came out. Sunlight glinted across his greasy black hair as he jerked the door shut behind him, then flipped it off. “Watch the kid,” he muttered and Rift froze, his breath locked in his throat.

The Hound next to him glanced Rift’s way, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was hearing whatever else spewed from this idiot’s mouth.

“I’ll fucking watch the kid.” Jerome kicked at the grass and headed across the lawn and toward the forest edge.

Rift exchanged a look with Mace and Cutter. If they could take this one out... He sidled closer to the Hound paired with them. “What’s that way?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m going after him.” Rift had started through the trees when the Hound caught his arm. A snarl flashed through him and Rift bared his teeth. “If he’s leaving open ground, we could take him out. Three instead of four guarding my daughter. I like those odds better.”

The Hound cringed but nodded. Touching his earpiece. “Boss, one of the pride males is heading into the back cover. Callahan and I are going after him, the other two will be holding position. Copy?”

“Got it.”

Mace and Cutter agreed with a nod. That was good enough for him. Rift snaked through the trees, careful to keep to the shadows. The Hound trailed at his back, weapon drawn. Not that Rift planned on using a gun. Too noisy. No, he intended to take Jerome down the old-fashioned way.

A quick slice of claws and one gurgling last breath.

***

Tavis smiled at Jenna. The woman was trembling like a leaf, utterly terrified. She should be. Dougal was still pissed at her for smuggling Rift’s kid in, pissed enough that he really would let her go to his little goons. “I thought you were cooking breakfast.”

She flinched when he spoke, and Tavis shook his head, disgusted. So weak. So scared. He didn’t get what about that turned Jerome on. She’d probably weep and sob the entire time she was in bed with him. Yeah, that just made Tavis hard as a fucking rock.
Not
.

“I wanted eggs, or did you forget that already?”

“No, sir.” Her answer came out breathy, but she still didn’t reach for the pan.

Useless. Absolutely useless.

“Maybe I should just settle for toast.” He turned toward the pantry and she jerked into action.

“No. I got it.” Jenna scooped up the frying pan and stepped toward him, holding out one trembling hand toward the kitchen door. “Just...just go.”

A growl rumbled through him and she flinched.

“I mean, I’m so sorry. I just needed a moment.” She pressed her fingertips to her forehead and took a deep steadying breath. “Omelet or fried eggs?”

She smiled, finally looking more like a woman than a waif. Tavis sneered.

“Omelet. Ham.” Then he turned and strode out of the room. At this rate, he’d have to check in to make sure she actually made him one. Otherwise he’d starve before she remembered how to use that fucking pan.

Chapter Twenty One

Sawyer’s breath left her in a rush. That had been so close. She waited until the footsteps receded past the dining room before toeing open the pantry door. Jenna stood there, still half in front of it, her whole body shaking.

“Thank you,” Sawyer whispered.

Jenna gave a jerky nod, tears filling her eyes, and Sawyer stepped closer. She touched the other woman’s wrist. “Come on,” but even as she said it, she knew Jenna wouldn’t go. She recognized the fear in the other woman’s eyes. The unwavering certainty that Dougal would always find her kept her from leaving. Every time.

At least last time she’d let Sawyer take Kinsey away from here.

“Brandt,” Sawyer whispered. “Pride male left, Jerome. Take him down before he reaches the cabin if at all possible. It’ll leave only one guard with Kinsey.”

“Already on it.”

“Come on,” Sawyer whispered again, her fingers tightening over Jenna’s wrist, but the woman stepped back. She shook her head.

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

Jenna lifted the pan in explanation.

“I can buy you time. Save her.” Jenna’s voice broke over the last word, and this time, the tears that slipped over her cheeks seemed to be shed for Kinsey. Sawyer swayed, shaken. “Please.”

It was the first motherly thing Sawyer had seen her do. With a nod, Sawyer darted out the back door and ran for the trees. Tavis was up now, Dougal probably, too. Somebody would be eyeing the cameras soon enough; she just hoped it wasn’t now.

“Brandt, status,” she whispered as she hit the tree line and slipped into the underbrush. Fading into the trees, Sawyer turned, trying to get her bearings.

“South of the door, heading deeper into the trees. Rift and Tank are already tracking the male that left before you.”

Sawyer spun and ran in the direction of the lake house. Her steps were light, easy, practiced as she wound her way through the trees. She knew the way to the cabin. She’d had to ferry food there more than once for the men when they’d been out hunting, or spending ‘special’ time with a particular pride female. Sawyer shuddered, remembering the bruises circling Jenna Slade’s neck. A crash sounded ahead and she put on a burst of speed.

She heard a muffled snarl and she spotted the pair of men struggling on the ground. Rift rammed his fist with Jerome’s chin just as the other man opened his mouth to scream. A Hound, Tank if she had to guess, slid to a stop beside them and slammed the butt of his gun down on the side of Jerome’s head. The man jerked, dazed, and then Rift wrapped an arm around his neck and squeezed.

Jerome sputtered, gasping. He twisted and kicked, his hands clawing at Rift’s arm.