Chapter Ten
Hell Hath no Fury
Rachel Williams
I storm back toward the cabin, boots crunching through gravel, breath tight in my chest. I’m so angry I can barely see straight.
He wants to send me back to Dallas, and for what?
High and mighty, sanctimonious asshole.
I slam the cabin door open and march inside, pacing like a caged animal. Replaying the argument and thinking of a few things I wish I had said. Moving on to things I want to do.
Like slap him. Or tell him that I wont be his field support going forward. Or tie him up and strip him naked…… this isn’t helping.
This is the problem. When he’s growly and angry, I don’t get offended, I get turned on. It’s the reason Ive lasted so long as his support agent. None of the others last long. But me? I like it.
Of course he follows me.
The door crashes open. “Rachel-”
“No.” I whirl around so fast he actually stops short. “Do not ‘Rachel’ me right now.”
He steps inside, shutting the door behind him. “We need to talk-”
“You already did all the talking! You did all the deciding too, and since you decided, I don’t see why you would need any input from me now!” I snap.
He tries to stay calm, that infuriating, stoic, controlled calm, but I’m done with it. I’m done with him deciding what I can handle.
“You don’t get to order me back to Dallas,” I shout, stepping right into his space. “You don’t get to tell me what I am and am not capable based on your feelings. You don’t get to send me packing because you’re scared!”
His jaw tightens. “I’m not scared.”
“Yes, you are,” I fire back. “You’re terrified. And instead of dealing with it, you’re trying to shove me out of the way like I’m some fragile little girl.”
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Then what are you doing?” I demand. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re trying to get rid of me.”
His eyes flash; hurt, frustration, something deeper.
“I’m trying to keep you alive.”
I freeze.
He steps closer, voice low, strained. “I can’t lose you.”
I feel that like a blow to the chest and I don’t know what to do with it.
Loose me?
Looking up at the intensity of his expression makes my core clench, a breathless sound escaping me.
I see the moment his restraint snaps and he reaches for me.
I finally broke his calm veneer.
His arms wrap around me bringing my body flush against his, his hands cradling my head. Just shy of violence, he crashes his lips down on mine. Stunning all my senses, he dominates the kiss, wrapping his tongue around mine, forcing me to submit, and its everything I could have ever wanted.
The feeling of him against me, his hard body molding mine, and I lose all sense of my surroundings. He is all I can feel, all that matters.
My job, the fact that he is Gemma’s father, all the reasons this is a bad idea fade into the back of my mind with each stroke of his tongue on mine.
My body feels like it’s on fire every place it touches him and I throw myself into the burn. His thigh slides between mine and I shamelessly rub myself against him, feeling the hard outline of his cock against my belly. Desperate to get closer.
A scream cuts through the compound.
High. Panicked. Terrified.
Out of the fog of lust that enveloped us, we both snap apart, looking toward the window.
God damnit! We were busy!
Another shout follows. This one louder, frantic.
“I saw it!” Rings out through the compound
Bishop and I lock eyes, the moment evaporating instantly.
He moves first, yanking the door open. I’m right behind him, adrenaline slamming through me along with a few other feelings.
Half my mind still back in the kiss and considering creative ways to kill whoever is screaming if this is a joke.
Outside, one of the younger rangers is stumbling backward near the tree line, pointing wildly into the woods. His face is white, eyes huge, and his chest heaving.
“I SAW IT!” he screams. “I SWEAR TO GOD, I SAW IT! IT WAS HUGE…IT WAS…”
Beth grabs him by the shoulders. “Kyle! Kyle, look at me! What did you see?”
Kyle’s voice cracks. “A werewolf.”
The compound goes dead silent.
Bishop steps forward, posture rigid, eyes scanning the dark woods. “Where?”
Kyle points with a shaking hand. “Right there. It was watching me. It had…it had glowing eyes.”
My blood runs cold.
Bishop’s hand finds my arm instinctively pulling me slightly behind him. This time I don’t mind so much. I don’t argue. Not this time.
Beth swears under her breath. “Everyone inside. Now.”
Kyle keeps shaking, Bishop’s grip tightens on my arm.
And for the first time since we arrived, I’m not sure he’s wrong about the danger.
But there is absolutely no way this is a werewolf. That’s insane.
This case makes absolutely no sense at all.
Bishop sets up a perimeter immediately, barking orders with that clipped authority that makes everyone snap to attention. Something about him being dominant in charge is giving me ideas.
Flashlights are passed out. Radios are checked. A rotation of rangers circling the compound in pairs is assigned. Its turning me on.
And the entire time he doesn’t let me out of his sight.
Not for a second.
This is the strangest form of foreplay I have ever engaged in.
Every time I move, he’s there; a shadow at my shoulder, a presence at my back. It should annoy me. It should make me snap at him again. But instead, it makes my pulse jump and my center throb. He has transitioned from overbearing to possessive in my mind, and that’s a change I can appreciate.
Possessive I can handle.
David, arriving to the scene, takes us to the security room.
The monitors flicker with grainy footage from cameras mounted around the compound tree line, parking lot, cabin row, ranger station.
We go through all the footage frame by frame.
Nothing.
“Whatever Kyle saw,” David mutters, “it’s not showing up on the cameras.”
Bishop’s jaw tightens. “Or it’s smart enough to avoid them.”
I swallow hard. “Or it’s watching us from the blind spots.”
He looks at me sharply, not angry, but alert. “Exactly.”
Animals wouldn’t do that. But a person would.
We stay in the security room for an hour, maybe two. The rangers rotate outside, flashlights sweeping the dark. The woods stay silent.
“This suggests a level of intelligence that only a human has. Is this a practical joke?”
Bishop doesn’t look like he thinks it’s funny.
Eventually, David sighs. “We’ll keep the rotation going all night. Just in case. Everyone is panicked. You two should get some rest.”
Rest. Right. I have some restful ideas.
Bishop doesn’t argue. He’s exhausted. I can see it in the tightness around his eyes, the stiffness in his shoulders. He didn’t sleep last night. Neither did I.
We walk back to the cabin together, the air cold enough to sting. The woods loom around us, massive and dark and alive. I keep expecting something to step out of the tree line.
Bishop stays close. Close enough that I can feel the heat of him even through my jacket.
Inside the cabin, the silence is suffocating.
He locks the door. Checks the windows. Checks them again.
I sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing my arms. “You think it’s still out there.”
“I know it is.”
He says it with absolute certainty the kind that makes my stomach drop.
He looks at the floor where he slept last night. Then at the bed. Then at me.
“We’re not splitting up,” he says quietly.
I blink at the change of subject.
“If something comes through that door, I’m not far enough away to stop it.”
It takes me a second to understand. We’re sharing the bed.
For safety. Not for anything else.
I try to hide my disappointment.
But my heart still stutters. He’s going to be close enough to touch.
I nod, trying to keep my voice steady. “Okay. That makes sense.”
He doesn’t move until I pull the blanket back. Only then does he sit stiff, tense, like he’s afraid to touch me or the bed or the air itself.
Does he regret it now?
The thought stings.
I try to rationalize it. Before I do something stupid like cry.
There are more important things happening. This is an investigation; an agent has died. He is my boss. He’s my friends father. He is old enough to be my father.
This shouldn’t happen.
But all I feel is rejection.
We lie down facing opposite directions, a careful foot of space between us. I can feel the heat of him at my back. I can hear his breathing slow and controlled. Forced.
The cabin creaks. The wind brushes the windows.
I wish he would stop, Im not going to attack him. Im not that desperate.
Bishop shifts closer, just an inch. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. “I’m right here.”
I close my eyes. Because if I look at him now, I’ll fall apart.
I’m not scared of what’s outside. Im scared he will tell me it was a mistake.