Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
CHASE
I’m all the way inside my house before I realize I forgot my toolbox. And my flashlight. And my monkey wrench. All because of a tiny human with big green eyes and a smile that could bring me to my knees.
Just the thought of her makes my wolf whine with the urge to be near her. I can feel him pacing restlessly within me, begging to be let out.
For some reason, he’s decided that the tiny blonde next door is ours.
Ours to claim.
Ours to care for.
Ours to protect.
It’s ridiculous. I just met Lizzy, and my wolf has never expressed any interest in a woman before, beyond pure physical attraction. It makes me think I’ve been deployed a little too long.
Maybe I need to take a trip to the beach to sit by the ocean and drink a cocktail with an umbrella in it.
Unwind.
That’s something people do, isn’t it?
Not that I would know. I can’t remember the last time I boarded a plane to go somewhere for fun. Riley would say it’s the stick they shove up your ass when you first enlist. She’d say I never figured out how to remove it.
Maybe she’s right.
Maybe I have been away too long.
Glancing out the window at Lizzy’s A-frame, I forget for a moment that I just completed my re-enlistment paperwork. I’ve basically resigned myself to another four-year stint, which will give me full retirement benefits. And then . . .
That’s where my life plan starts to look hazy and a little lonely.
In four years, I’ll be forty. I never saw myself as a family guy. And yet, as I was fixing things around Lizzy’s cabin, I found myself imagining what it would be like to take care of her as my wife.
The thought should scare the shit out of me or at least make me question my sanity.
I’ve been with women in the past, but never anything serious.
Then a sweet human in cat pajamas comes running out of her house on a cloud of smoke, and suddenly, I’m fantasizing about being someone’s husband with a honey-do list as long as my arm.
I need help.
Unbidden, my mind drifts back to Lizzy’s phone and that string of messages I so stupidly glanced at. I wasn’t trying to be nosy. I only looked out of habit. But then I saw all those texts from someone named Bryce, along with a bunch of missed calls.
Seeing another man’s name pop up on her phone shouldn’t have been a big deal. I only just met her, and she lives next door. Even if I didn’t plan on re-enlisting, no good would come from a fling with my neighbor.
But it wasn’t jealousy that sent my beast into a frenzy. It was white-hot animal rage.
I will find you, Lizzy.
This isn’t over.
Someone — an ex-boyfriend, maybe — is threatening my girl. And it might be more than threats, if those texts are related to the strange scratches on her arms.
Scratches that looked a helluva lot like they were made by wolf claws.
Just the thought makes my beast snarl and pace.
There’s a special place in hell for men who hurt women. Men who use intimidation to get what they want.
I could see in Lizzy’s eyes that she knew I’d seen those texts, and she was . . . embarrassed.
Embarrassed.
The thought makes me want to hunt that motherfucker down and rip him to shreds.
It’s not as if I’d expect Lizzy to confide in me, a total stranger, but the fact that some bastard threatened her and she was ashamed . . . It’s seriously fucked up.
Just like the beast within me, I start to pace the length of my cabin. The hair along the back of my neck prickles, and my skin suddenly feels much too tight.
I need to shift. I need to run. I need to get a last name out of Lizzy so I can hunt that piece of shit down and —
My own phone buzzes in my back pocket, and I dig it out to look at the name. It’s Jonas, my pack brother and my best friend.
Who am I kidding? Jonas is my only friend.
“What is it?” I growl into the phone, too wound up to check my tone before answering.
“It’s Riley.”
At the mention of my sister — my very pregnant sister — I feel all the fight drain out of me at once. It’s replaced by cold, grounding terror.
“Is she all right?” My voice sounds as though it was scraped over gravel, and my heart skips a beat.
“Y-yeah. She’s fine.”
A child’s high-pitched squeal sounds in the background, followed by “no kicking your sister!”
Jonas hesitates, and I hear him say something soft to my niece, who’s started to cry. “She’s in labor.”
“In labor?” I repeat, my mind going unhelpfully blank.
“Yeah.” Jonas sucks in a hiss through his teeth, as if he’s gearing up to ask a big favor.
He doesn’t need to.
“I’ll be right there,” I say, my voice immediately steady. If he’s at home, I know he must be calling because he needs someone to watch Alice and Wilder. Otherwise, he’d be calling me from the car. Or the hospital.
“Are you sure, man? We had another sitter lined up, but she’s got food poisoning.”
“Of course I’m sure,” I say gruffly, wheeling around and scanning the kitchen counter for my keys.
“We can always call Claire.” My sister’s best friend since childhood. “But she’s a couple hours away, and since it’s Riley’s third pup?—”
“I’ll be right there,” I say, cutting him off.
“It could be all night,” my pack brother warns. “You’ve never done bedtime with Wilder, and?—”
“I said I’m coming,” I practically growl.
Riley’s my little sister, and those two pups are my family. I might not have been there for her when she was a kid, but I can be there for her now.
LIZZY
A feeling of loneliness swamps me as I watch Chase drive away. Of course the guy has a life of his own. He’s a sweet, jaw-droppingly sexy Marine who’s handy around the house.
I’d be surprised if he doesn’t have plans for the evening. Probably with a woman.
The thought shouldn’t make my stomach pinch with jealousy, but it does. There was a part of me that hoped he might invite me over to his place for dinner, but I realize now how pathetic that is.
We only just met, and the guy spent most of his day helping me fix my crap-tastic cabin. He probably thinks I’m some charity case who either doesn’t have the money or the common sense to rent a halfway decent place to live.
Stop, I growl to myself. You’re better than this.
I’ve learned the hard way not to rely on other people — especially men. I’ve resolved to be independent, but it already feels so lonely.
I just wish there was someone I could talk to.
Before my dad died, he was the person I called whenever I was feeling sad or alone. And even though I had friends back in Denver, they weren’t women I’d call to unload all my pitiful feelings on.
Trying to put my sexy neighbor out of my mind, I slip my earbuds in and crank up some music to start cleaning the bathroom. Every surface is covered with a layer of dust and grime, which tells me my landlord did absolutely nothing to prepare for my arrival.
I still haven’t heard back from the bastard, and I’m concerned I may have to pay for a handyman if I don’t want to rely on Chase for every little thing.
Once the bathroom is clean and the floor is mopped, I get into the shower to wash away the grime and stress of the day. The showerhead makes a weird groaning noise, and the water isn’t exactly hot, but I manage to get myself clean.
Adding a few logs to the fire, I pull on an oversized sweatshirt and grab my laptop to watch a show in bed. But just then I hear the crunch of gravel outside, and a pair of headlights beam through the curtains.
Feeling nosy, I creep over to the window to see if it’s Chase, and my stomach drops to my feet.
An all-too-familiar blue truck is parked in my driveway, barely fifteen feet from my porch.
My heart stutters, and I briefly consider calling the cops. But I don’t even know where the closest police station is or how long it would take for them to arrive. Besides that, Bryce hasn’t done anything illegal. What is a police officer going to do?
But then he gets out of the truck, and my heart starts to beat faster. Panic claws its way up my throat, and I briefly consider my options.
I could call the police, but having the cops show up will only make him angrier. They can’t arrest him for coming to my house. And the next time he shows up, he might bring friends.
It would probably be better to just ask him to leave.
But then Bryce approaches the front door, and I start to panic. I glance over at the door to make sure it’s locked as his footsteps crunch in the gravel outside.
Cinders hisses and darts under the bed, and I wish I could do the same.
The door rattles as Bryce pounds it with his fist, the sound making my whole body tense. “Open up, Lizzy. I know you’re in there.”
Heart racing, I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing that I’d wake up and this will all have been a dream.
“Think I wouldn’t find you here?” he booms, pounding on the door again.
His taunt raises a very good question — one I was too panicked to ask right away. How did he find me here?
I was careful not to tell anyone where I was moving. No clients. No neighbors. I even changed the password to my email so he couldn’t snoop through my messages.
Unsure what to do, I crouch down on the floor so he won’t see my shadow behind the window. My SUV is parked out front, so he knows I’m here. But if I ignore him, maybe he’ll leave.
“We need to talk,” he murmurs, sounding for an instant like the man I fell for. Intense, but patient. Loving.
But I’m not stupid. Talking is the absolute last thing on his mind. He just wants to scream at me. Berate me. Hurt me.
“It wasn’t hard, you know,” Bryce continues. “You stole my headphones when you ran off.” He lets out a dark chuckle. “The location app led me right to you.”
My mind reels, and I curse myself for being so stupid.
I’d forgotten that my earbuds were a gift from Bryce. He’d won them in a work raffle. Things had been good between us then, and he’d given them to me because I like to run with music and I didn’t have any wireless headphones.
I should’ve known they’d be registered to him and hooked up to the app he uses to find his phone when he loses it.
Bryce pounds on the door again, rattling the old windows.
“Open up, you fucking bitch.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
He’s getting angry. And the last time he was this angry . . .
Hand shaking, I reach for my phone, but then there’s a deafening bang, accompanied by the sound of splintering wood.
The door slams open, and I gape in horror. Superhuman strength isn’t a good sign.
Scrambling back, I cast around the cabin for something — anything — I could use as a weapon. My gaze snags on my wrought-iron lamp, and I yank the cord out of the wall socket and throw off the shade so I can bludgeon Bryce with the heavy base if he comes any closer.
My ex stands in the doorway, his eyes glowing an eerie yellow that sends a chill racing down my spine. My chest constricts, making it hard to draw a full breath, and my blood feels charged with electricity as it pulses through my veins.
“You’re coming with me.”
“The fuck she is,” comes another low voice from behind my ex.
The voice is familiar, but in my panic, I can’t place it.
Bryce wheels around. I lean forward, craning my neck to find Chase standing just a few feet behind him.
“Filthy slut. You already found yourself some other loser to fuck?”
I shiver at the malice lacing his tone. I don’t even recognize this man.
“Don’t you speak to her. Ever. Again,” Chase growls. His blue eyes practically glow in the dark, the irises reflecting the light from the two sets of headlights.
“This is none of your business, Griffith.”
I blink. Griffith? Bryce and Chase know each other?
“You made it my business the second you pulled up here and started threatening Lizzy.”
“Sweeping in to play the hero, are you?” Bryce gives a cruel chuckle. “You been fucking her behind my back this whole time? Nah. I would have smelled your stench on her.”
“If I had been, you never would’ve put your filthy paws on her,” Chase replies.
My heart is still pounding so hard I can hear it, but my confusion is quickly overriding my panic.
“Get in your car and go home, Bryce,” Chase snarls.
“Or what?”
Chase makes a low noise in his throat that doesn’t sound entirely human. With the headlights beaming behind him, he looks huge and terrifying. “Or you’ll be leaving here in pieces.”
Another shiver runs down my spine, but for a different reason.
Bryce’s nostrils flare, but he stalks back toward his truck, never once taking his eyes off of Chase.
“This isn’t over,” he says, and I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or Chase. I don’t even care. I just want him to leave.
I hold my breath as he climbs into the driver’s seat and slams the door shut. He peels out of my driveway in a cloud of dust, and I watch him go with a sense of foreboding mixed with a wave of relief.
I know Bryce isn’t done tormenting me, but I’m safe for now.
Then Chase looks at me, and his expression softens. That wrathful gleam winks out of his eyes, and that tiny shift in him causes something inside me to crack.
All the adrenaline leaves my system, and I start to tremble as tears well in my eyes. Terror, fury, and humiliation mix with the relief and gratitude I feel that he showed up when he did.
Chase moves toward me slowly, the way he might approach a skittish horse. Those blue eyes soften with every step until he’s standing right in front of me.
Ever so gently, he pries the lamp out of my hands. I hadn’t even realized I was still gripping it. Then he tugs me against his hard chest with a sigh and wraps his arms around me.
Damn.
If I’d thought he looked big standing on my stoop, it’s nothing compared to how it feels to have this mountain of a man holding me. His arms feel strong enough to crush me if he wanted, and yet they’re so gentle with me.
I shouldn’t want him to hold me, I tell myself.
I should be stronger. Tougher.
I should be able to stand here and not let the terror of Bryce’s visit overwhelm me.
Apparently, I’m not as strong as I thought, because being in Chase’s arms just feels right. I feel safe in a way that I haven’t in months, and I try not to think about what that means.
So, I decide to stop fighting it.
Burying my face in his chest, I breathe in Chase’s fresh cedar-and-sunshine scent and let him hold me as I fall apart.