Chapter 15 - Shawn
Leaving the house, I feel like a mongrel dog that’s been kicked into the gutter. Upsetting Sara like that was, without a doubt, the worst thing I’ve ever done.
And I’ve done some questionable shit in my career.
It would have been bad enough to say those things to her, but after last night, I know I’ve committed a sin I don’t deserve to be forgiven for. I can’t wait to get home and explain everything to her, and if she’s still mad after I’ve said my piece, I won’t blame her one bit.
But I have to get the old man back on side—he’s beginning to suspect something isn’t right.
When I came out first thing in the morning to put on some coffee, the only thought in my mind was bringing Sara breakfast in bed and picking some nice flowers for her.
I got the shock of my life when I found Jackson waiting on the porch, and I know damn well he didn’t announce his presence to me because he was hoping to catch me doing something he could use to challenge my position.
I covered as best I could, even though every word to Sara was like a blade in my chest. I can tell by Jackson’s sly gaze that he’s still suspicious of me, and I don’t think there’s anything I can do to change that now.
He’s been plotting my demise this entire time, anyway. He just needs an excuse so he can keep Rex and Brad off his back. What is the old fucker planning?
“So, you’re up for a hunt, are you?” Jackson asks.
“You bet,” I reply. “Does the pack hunt often?”
“Not really. We’re always too scared to go far beyond limits. That’s why we have livestock.”
“Not much of it.”
“I agree. It’s been rough. We’ll bring in something big today, and that will help out the poor folk.”
“Why are you so scared to go beyond Clover’s limits?”
“I’m not scared of anything,” Jackson laughs. “But there are legends in these hills, boy. Maybe if you aren’t local, you don’t know them.”
“Clueless,” I say.
“Ancient powers, kid,” Jackson says. “Apparently, our ancestors ran from it. But me, I’m not the running kind. Especially when there’s power involved.”
“I know what you mean.”
Jackson laughs. “Okay. Maybe we’re a bit more alike than I realized.”
“Only one way to find out,” I say. “I assume we’ll get to know each other pretty well, if you’re sticking around to be my beta.”
“Oh, I am,” he assures me. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but at your side.”
I bet.
We walk towards the north edge of town, and I keep my senses on high alert. I know a hunting run could be an excellent opportunity for Jackson to take me out, but I don’t think he’s that stupid.
If I mysteriously die on a routine run, all my black ops boys will move in here and clean the town out from top to bottom.
They’ll raze the place, killing and capturing the men and taking the women and children to live in the other towns—and the poor folk probably wouldn’t protest too much about it, either.
I know the smartest thing to do is take Jackson out immediately. I can smell his evil deeds and schemes all over him, and I don’t need any evidence to execute him for it, either publicly or right now. As alpha, it’s my right, and no one could stop me.
But he has power here. So much of the pack—even the people I’m trying to help—could turn on me if I killed him. I can’t just murder anyone I want. I have to do better than that.
“Okay,” Jackson says. “You know my buddies, don’t you?”
Jackson gestures at Bruce, Axe, and Rafe, who wave to us from a nearby outcrop.
“Yep, I’ve met them,” I answer. The five of us come together with brief nods and greetings.
“We’re just going to push north through this gully,” Jackson says. “And try and bring down some bighorn sheep. There’s a good-sized herd nearby, and we’ll come upon them pretty quick. We should be able to bring a couple down without too much trouble.”
“No problem,” I say, pulling off my shirt. “What are we waiting for?”
All of us undress and shift, and Jackson leads us down the first gully. As he reaches the lower plains, he pauses and gestures upwards with his head. Axe and Bruce split away, covering the edges of the mountain in separate directions. I follow Jackson, and Rafe follows behind me.
I don’t like this.
We keep up a hard run as we pass through the gully, and I can smell the others keeping pace above us. Pretty soon, I can smell the bighorn, and Jackson slows down, lowering himself to his belly to stalk through the grass.
I look up on the ridge and see Bruce and Axe high above and far ahead, and I know they are going to drive the herd back towards us. Jackson turns and nods to me, and I nod back, swinging left to flank him. Rafe moves in the opposite direction, so we have the end of the gully covered.
Even though everything is working exactly as it should, my instincts are screaming.
They could kill me at any time. I could take them all out if I had to, but not if they take me by surprise.
When all of us are in position, Jackson lets out a very low yip. A couple of the bighorn look up, but before they can react, Bruce and Axe explode from the trees, barking and snarling, turning the herd as one to charge at us.
I stay low in the grass, ready to pounce the second the sheep get close. They power towards us in a thundering wave, horns low and hooves nimbly leaping through the rocky terrain. As the first line reaches me, I leap out and tear the throat out of a young buck.
I hear growling nearby and the sounds of a scuffle as Jackson brings down a sheep. Further on, another falls, and I know that has to be Rafe. A quick glance shows me Bruce and Axe are still at the back of the herd, driving them towards us.
I charge forward, leaping and bringing down another sheep.
For the next few minutes, my conscious mind leaves me, and my body is released into the joy of the slaughter, the surrender to my own primal nature.
When I begin to recover my senses, the majority of the herd has moved on, and only a few stragglers remain, desperately running to catch the others.
I turn around, shifting back to my human form to stand up and take a look around. There are a few bodies littering the area, and it looks like we have at least ten sheep to take back.
An excellent hunt.
Suddenly, hammering hooves sound right beside me, and I turn just in time to see a bighorn rocketing towards me. I don’t have time to move, and the big, muscular ram shoulders me off the path as it bolts by. I slide straight over the cliff edge, grabbing a handhold at the last second.
I’m about to pull myself up when Bruce appears above me. He stares down, and I glare right back.
The moment hangs between us, tension rising.
I could easily pull myself up and kick his ass—but I want to see what he does.
Eventually, Bruce leans down and offers me his hand. I grab it and let him help me over the edge.
“Thanks, buddy,” I say. “That buck took me by surprise. It’s lucky you were there to watch my back.”
“Yeah,” he says, smiling. “It was.”
“Are you okay?” Jackson asks, jogging over. “I thought you were a goner.”
“Nah, I got lucky!” I say. “Let’s load up a couple of sheep and head back. You’ve got guys coming to help with pickup, don’t you?”
“Yep, I assigned a few young ones to it earlier this morning. They should be on their way any minute now. Too young to hunt, but definitely old enough for some hard labor.”
“I do like the way you run things,” I say, grabbing the nearest bighorn and slinging it over my shoulders.
“Glad to hear it,” Jackson says, picking up a sheep.
The walk back is almost as much of a macho battle as the hunt itself as we drag back our burdens in the midday heat. I make sure to stumble every now and then and let the others hear my hard breathing.
I want him to be overconfident and fully underestimate me.
When we arrive back in town, there is a gathering in the hall waiting for us. To my relief, Sara is there, looking absolutely beautiful in a dark green dress. I want to run straight to her, but instead, I barely look at her as I accept congratulations from the others for the good kill.
The young ones go out to collect the rest, and a few older men sit down to clean the carcasses and get the meat on the spit. All the men who participated in the hunt go to wash up, and when we return, there are seats waiting for us in the cool shade.
“Here you are, my husband,” Sara says, putting a cold cup into my hand. “I’m sure you are very thirsty.”
“I am,” I say, barely looking at her. I take a gulp of the ice-cold beer, then shake the glass at her for a refill.
She looks up at my face for just a second, and I see a world of hurt in her eyes.
“There you are,” she says after pouring more beer into the cup. “Anything else?”
“No,” I say casually. “Go and take care of the food. Bring me some meat when it’s ready.”
“Of course.”
The party goes on into the night, and even though I try to keep an eye on Jackson, all he does is get extremely drunk and pass out by the fire. His three goons park under a tree and drink themselves to oblivion, so I let myself relax and enjoy the atmosphere.
By the time Sara and I go home, the stars are incredibly high overhead, and a cool breeze is trickling in from the south.
Even though I know I’ve got a lot to answer for, I’m tired from the hunt, mellow from the beer, and invigorated by the meat, and I feel like everything will be fine once I explain it to her.
When we reach the house, she hurries ahead of me. I jog to keep up, following her through the front door and catching her arm.
“Sara,” I say, my voice full of expectation. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all day—”
“Why?” she snaps. “So you can say more hurtful things to me? Don’t you dare fucking talk to me, Shawn!”
Her words hit me like blows, knocking all the good feelings straight out of me.
“Sara, I’m sorry—”
“Do you think sorry is going to cut it!” she tries to yell, but the words get caught on her tears, and the sight breaks my heart.
“Oh, God,” I gasp. “Please, please listen to me. I didn’t mean any of it.”
“How could you say those things to me?” she cries, tears pouring down her cheeks. “After what we shared, all the things we did—how?”
“Sara.” I step towards her, trying to hold her hand, but she jumps back from me. “I want to explain,” I say, suddenly full of conviction. “I want to tell you everything.”
She trusted me with her body; it’s time for me to trust her. I’m going to tell her everything. That I’m a secret agent, that I’m plotting against her dad—all of it!
“Tell me what?” she cries, fury chasing the sadness out of her voice. “Do you really think I’ll believe anything you say? You’re just like the rest of them! No, no, wait. I take that back. You’re nothing like them.”
“Sara?” I prod, tentatively hoping.
“Father is always cruel, always consistent. He’s never once gotten under my skin and made me believe he was kind, just so he can stick the knife in the next day!”
“Sara, please,” I say, reaching for her again. “That’s not what I did, I promise.”
“I’ve heard your promises, and I know what they’re worth!” she screams. “Fuck you, Shawn! I don’t have to listen to your lies!”
She turns and races down the hall, and I hear the door slam so hard, it sounds like it almost comes off its hinges. Beyond that, I can hear the heartbreaking sound of her crying.
Miserably, I take myself to the couch, my lies resting in my chest like a bucket of stones.
I can only hope that when the truth comes out, she’ll forgive me, and if she doesn’t…Maybe I don’t deserve her.