Chapter 7
Cliff’s lungs burned as he pushed himself down the bridle path loop circling the reservoir of Central Park for probably the twentieth time that morning. The sun rose high up from behind the buildings on the Upper East Side, but it had been dark when he left his apartment in Midtown. Restful sleep had evaded him for the last couple of days, and since the only way he could get some shut-eye was when he was dead tired, he’d pushed himself physically in an attempt to exhaust himself and his wolf.
It was the only way he could stop himself from giving in to his desires, to prevent himself from saying, fuck it, and hopping on the next plane to Las Vegas. The only way he could get peace.
Not that what little sleep he had was peaceful. No, it seemed when he wasn’t awake thinking of Stella, he was also dreaming of her. Of all the things he wanted to do to her sweet little body if he ever had the chance. In one of his dreams, she said yes to every dark, dirty fantasy he could think of. When he woke up, his cock had been rock-hard, and he had to jerk off twice so he could get some relief.
And his wolf would not let up on him either. If it wasn’t furious at him, it sulked in the corner, refusing him when he called. He wasn’t even aware Lycans wolves could just do that.
After finishing his twenty-first loop, Cliff decided he was done and headed toward home. He strolled through the park, which at this time was still quiet, save for a few joggers and dog walkers, and made his way out.
He allowed his thoughts to drift away—to the upcoming cases he’d been assigned, the presents he was planning to get his mom for Christmas, Thanksgiving plans, last night’s football game he had watched with his dad—anything and everything else that would not remind him of her.
“Fuck.”
Cliff slapped a hand to his forehead—he was standing on Seventh Avenue, right across from Carnegie Hall.
Huffing, he hunched his shoulders and hurried along, making his way toward the Lone Wolf Investigations offices instead of his apartment. Maybe he’d actually be able to find some peace and quiet there and go through that pile of paperwork he’d been meaning to do. In his defense, he did start it on Monday, but he got frustrated and irritated, and he hadn’t showed up at his desk all week.
He told himself it wasn’t because he shared an office with Jacob.
Nor was it because it took every ounce of his strength not to smash his cousin’s fucking pretty boy face in.
Just the memory of Jacob touching Stella made Cliff’s blood pressure rise.
Sure, it was been an innocent touch to help her through the crowds of his oftentimes loud and gregarious family, but something about it just rankled Cliff.
His wolf bared its teeth. It didn’t want any other male near her and definitely not touching her. It goaded Cliff, telling him to tear Jacob apart and?—
Ignoring his animal, Cliff jogged all the way to Midtown and then made his way to the offices of Lone Wolf Investigations and Security. Since it was a Saturday morning, it was quiet, but he did notice that the light in his father’s office was on and the door was ajar. There were also at least two other voices there.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Cliff poked his head through the door. “Dad? Charley?”
“What are you doing here, son?” Connor asked. “It’s Saturday.”
“I know.” He strode over to them. The look on his sister’s face and the way she wrung her hands together told him something was not right. “Why aren’t you on tour with Devon?”
“I was about to join him but …”
Alarm bells set off in his head. “What’s wrong. Is it Devon? The press?”
She bit her lip as worry marred her face. “It’s Stella.”
Calm down, he urged his wolf before it could react. I’m sure she’s okay. “Did the paparazzi find out about her?”
“N-no, I mean, at least, I don’t think so …” She bit her lip as her entire body shook. “Oh God, Dad.” She let out a heart-wrenching sob and threw herself at their father. “Dad, it’s my fault …”
“Shh, baby, it’s okay …”
“What the fuck is going on?” Cliff could barely keep himself from shouting. “What happened to Stella?”
“She’s fine … now,” Connor added. “But someone tried to kidnap her. Somehow she escaped, and the state police found her wandering down the highway. Took her to a nearby hospital.”
“Motherfucker!”
Rage tore through him as his vision went red. He wanted to break something apart and tear it to pieces. His wolf, too, wanted to rip out of his body and make whoever hurt Stella pay.
“Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you found out? I wouldn’t have known if I hadn’t come here …” He clenched his fingers as he began to pace. “Who’s with her? Is she alone?” Visions of Stella lying in a hospital bed, hurt and in pain, only fueled his anger.
“Son, calm down. We just found out ourselves.”
“Hospital called … parents, and they called Devon,” Charley blubbered. “Called … Dad.”
“Charley asked to meet us here, and we’re waiting for your Uncle Killian and Uncle Quinn so we can start planning on what to do to protect her.”
“Damn right we’re protecting her. What’s the plan?”
“First, we’re going to have someone with her at all times.”
“Send Jacob.” Charley wiped her cheek with the back of her hands. “If anyone comes near her, I want them burned?—”
“Jacob?” Cliff burst out. “Why the fuck would you send him?”
“It’s not a bad idea. He’s family and a senior agent,” Connor pointed.
“I’ve been here longer,” he pointed out. “Which makes me more senior than him.”
His father and sister looked at each other, neither saying a word.
“What?” He bit out. “What’s wrong?”
It was Charley who finally spoke. “Cliff, you do know Stella lives in Las Vegas, right?”
Fuck, did he know.
Gritting his teeth, he spun on his heel and strode toward the door. “I’m gonna grab my stuff and head to the airport. Fill me in on the way.”
A mixture of dread, fear, and fury coursed through him, but mostly it was guilt. He knew whenever there was a job anywhere near Vegas—hell, anywhere on the West Coast—they never even considered him because of what had happened. If he hadn’t thought to come into the office, he wouldn’t have known that Stella had been hurt.
But who would try to kidnap her? Did someone figure out her connection to Devon? Were they thinking to ransom her?
Thankfully, Cliff always had a to-go bag in his closet in case he got called for jobs that required travel. He’d been in some hairy situations before, but the few hours flight to Harry Reid International Airport in Las Vegas had been one of the most harrowing experiences of his life, mostly because his imagination conjured up the most terrifying scenarios of what could have happened to Stella.
His phone rang the moment he stepped out of the terminal. “I’m here,” he greeted into his phone as he saw his father’s name pop up. “I’m on my way to pick up the car.”
“Good. Your Uncle Quinn just sent you the exact location of the hospital—some town thirty minutes from the airport.”
His steps faltered, and he had to stop in the middle of the busy airport. “Did … did Charley get a chance to talk to her?”
“She just woke up, according to her. There’s something else.”
“What?”
“We don’t know if it’s connected … but check your phone when you can.”
“All right.”
Cliff made his way to the car rental location, and as he waited for his vehicle, he opened up the link Uncle Quinn had sent him. It led him to a social media sharing site, and a video filled the screen—one with Stella’s face on it. He paused it, took a breath, and pressed play.
“… we were separated, I don’t know why. But if she is my identical twin then maybe … maybe you’ve seen our face before. Maybe she’s your daughter, your sister, your friend, your coworker, your wife … and all I really want to know is if she’s okay. That she’s happy and safe. Thank you.”
Cliff swallowed the lump in his throat as the video went black.
Damn it.
Stella was a soft-hearted, kind soul, but also a fool for going public like that. Of course she’d attract all kinds of crazy people with that stunt.
Gnashing his teeth together, he shoved the phone back in his pocket. He wanted to wring her neck for putting herself in danger like that.
Or maybe put her over his knee and spank her until her pretty ass turned pink.
Fuck.
Now was not the time to think about that.
* * *
It was a miracle Cliff made it to the Brisbee Town Medical Center without getting a ticket or into an accident. Razor wire wrapped around his throat as he raced in through the door, ignoring the stares of the nurses and patients around him as he practically tore up the stairs to the third floor where Stella’s room was located.
He was about to yank the door open when he stopped himself.
Calm. The fuck. Down.
Stella and her parents had been through enough. He didn’t need to charge in there like a raging bull and traumatize them. He would go in there calmly and tell them that Devon sent him here to watch over Stella until they could be sure there was no more threat.
Clearing his throat, he knocked on the door. He didn’t hear anything, but he entered anyway. The antiseptic smell of the room hit his nose, but the sweet scent of lavender and sage in the air told him Stella was definitely inside. He strode in and followed the smell—to where Stella lay in bed like a doll, looking frail and delicate, head to one side with her eyes closed.
Goddammit!
He was beside her in a second. “What the hell happened?”
“I—Cliff?” Surprise crossed her face as she opened her eyes. “What are you—” When she tried to sit up, she winced.
“Damn it, stay down,” he growled.
“I’m fine—ouch.” She clutched her side.
“I said stay down, damn it.” Stubborn woman.
“I said I’m … fine. And stop cussing at me.”
“I’m not—fuck! I mean … I’m sorry.” He reached for her. “Stella?—”
Waving his hands away, she slowly sat up. “What are you doing here? I called?—”
She gasped when his thumb touched her chin, and she resisted when he tried to make her turn her head toward him. When he insisted, he saw why—the entire left side of her face was covered in purple and blue bruises.
“Mother—who the fuck did this to you?” He could barely say the words as pure, unadulterated rage filled him.
“I don’t know,” she said in a soft whisper that broke something in him. “There were some men …”
“I—” A ringing sound and a buzzing in his pocket made him pause. Retrieving his phone, he answered the video call from his sister. “Charley?”
“Are you there?” It was Devon’s face on the screen, the anger and worry on his face evident. “Where is my sister?”
“Yeah. She’s right here.” He handed the phone to Stella, but planted himself right next to her where he could still see the screen.
“God, I was so worried … are you all right?” Devon asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine now.”
“Someone busted up the whole left side of her face,” Cliff interrupted.
“What?” Devon looked ready to explode.
Good.
“It’s nothing!” Stella turned the left side of her face away. “It’s already healing, they said.”
“That’s your Lycan healing,” Cliff explained. “Looks like it’s a few days old.” Not that it made it any better—Lycan healing or not, that shit still hurt like a motherfucker.
“Do you know who did this to you?” Devon asked.
“I d-don’t. Someone ran me off the road a-and put me in the trunk of a car.”
“Tell us what happened. From the beginning.”
“I was heading down to Keywoods ….”
Cliff’s hands shook as she relayed what happened to her. It was illogical, because she was here now and safe, but still, he couldn’t help but imagine how frightened she had to have been. And how much pain she felt when that motherfucker hit her in the face.
“… the highway patrol found me and brought me here. The nurses called my parents, and they’ve been here all day. I just told them to go back home and get some rest.” She glared at Cliff. “I was trying to get some rest, too, until he came.”
Cliff could have laughed—Stella sounded so brave, considering what had happened to her. Except he was still so furious that he’d let this happen to her.
Because what if he didn’t ignore that urge to follow her all the way here just to see her? What if he’d gone with his instinct and kissed her during that dinner? What if he wasn’t so hung up on the Vegas thing that he just said fuck it and followed her back here that day she left?
“I’m sorry, Stella,” Devon said. “I wish I could be there right now and make sure you were okay.”
“And so do I,” Charley interjected.
“I know why you can’t, it’s okay.” She sighed. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”
“Don’t be sorry for that,” Devon said. “And I’ll always worry about you.”
“Cliff is there just in case,” Charley added.
“Just in case, what?”
“In case whoever tried to hurt you comes back,” Cliff finished.
Big blue eyes stared up at him. “C-comes back?”
“Yeah.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “They tried to kidnap you, and you escaped. That means they failed.”
“And they could try again,” Devon said with a growl. “Stella, I saw the video. Why?”
Her pretty face turned even paler. “I didn’t think … I never mentioned you or Charley or the train station. I just thought … this was the best way to find her, Devon. You know it.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t gonna let you risk exposing yourself.”
“Which is why I did it. My twin—our sister—is out there somewhere. She could be hurt or in trouble, or she could be sad and lonely. I’m not going to stand around and do nothing when we could find her and make sure she’s okay.”
Cliff had to hand it to her—though Stella seemed shy and reserved most of the time, there was steel in her, especially when she believed she was doing the right thing.
“We can talk about this later,” Devon huffed. “For now, you’ll be under protection twenty-four seven.”
“Damned right,” Cliff huffed.
“Protec—what?” Stella’s expression turned incredulous as she turned to Cliff. “No way.”
“Yes.” His father and uncles had briefed him on the plan—he would stay as Stella’s bodyguard until the threat against her was neutralized.
Which meant staying in Las Vegas for now.
If Cliff had his way, he’d lock her away in a safe house surrounded by the best security and he’d hunt down the people responsible for hurting her.
“My dad’s security firm will handle this quietly,” Charley said. “Keep the authorities out of it so we don’t get any more leaks to the press. But we need to keep you safe until we find out who tried to hurt you and why.”
“It was some crazy person who saw the video, that’s all. I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“You’re still in danger,” Devon pointed out. “Stella, please, I’m going crazy worrying about you.”
“We just want you to be safe. And Cliff will make sure of that,” Charley assured her. “He’s the best in the business.”
Stella pursed her lips. “Fine. But I don’t want anything to change or anyone to know I’m being watched.”
“He’ll stay outta your way,” Charley said. “No one will know he’s around.”
“Good. Can I speak to you alone, Devon?”
“Sure.”
Cliff nodded at the screen. “I’ll be right outside.”
He strode out of the room, but left the door ajar. Just because he wasn’t in there, didn’t mean he couldn’t hear the conversation.
“… is it because of the video?” Stella asked. “I’m sorry I did it without telling you.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” Devon said. “I wish you’d said something so we could have prepared. My PR team could have helped. I mean, I know this was the best way to find her, but I couldn’t ask that of you. To risk your privacy and your job.”
“She’s our sister, Devon.”
“I know … and thank you for doing what you did. I’m still mad that you got hurt.”
She chuckled. “Not as mad as I am. Ouch! Sorry, I think I broke a rib when I jumped out of that trunk.”
“I can’t believe …” Devon blew out a breath. “Just stay out of trouble, okay? Do what Cliff says, he’ll know what to do to keep you safe.”
“All right, if it will make you feel better.”
“It will. Thank you. And don’t worry about the hospital and the doctors, I’ll take care of everything. Now, I have a two-day break from touring in a couple of days, maybe I can come out and see you ….”
Cliff tuned out of the conversation, then straightened his shoulders as he scanned the hallway for any threats or suspicious people.
Someone out there was trying to hurt her, and he was going to make damned sure they didn’t get a chance to try it again.