Chapter 50 #2
After a moment of him standing there watching, his shoulders rise and fall like he's taking a deep breath. One foot forward and he crosses the boundary, stepping into the yard.
I fucking knew it.
With urgency in my step but careful not to make any noise that would alert the man of my presence, I step out onto the pavement, pausing only a moment to close my eyes and focus my senses.
One thing about Weres is that we have a neat little ability that enables us to mask our scent.
It's as easy as breathing and takes a second of focus much like a chameleon can change colors to suit its surrounding environment.
I get to the Conner's in a matter seconds, my strides brisk and determined but slow down as the yard and front of the house comes into view and I spot the man.
He's on the front porch, testing the doorknob.
When it doesn't budge, he slinks around on the wraparound porch, walking around the side of the house heading to where the bedrooms are.
My blood boils, the animal instinct surging and hovering just beneath the skin.
Before I left the house, I made sure that Jace's bedroom window was secured and locked from the inside but the thought of this stranger sneaking about his bedroom – which is the first one he'll come to – unsettles me greatly.
I can't wait a moment longer.
Crossing the yard in easy strides, I pull the G19 from where it's tucked into the waistband of my jeans.
The built-in safety mechanism will trigger if the gun falls so I'm not worried about it misfiring.
Hopefully, there won't be much of a struggle, and I can diffuse the situation without alerting Jace's parents or Jace himself.
He has enough shit to deal with. The last thing I want is him frightened because some asshole tried to break into his room intent on hurting or kidnapping him.
The intruder has his back turned to me. He's too focused on trying the window at Jace's room and when nothing happens, he steps further down the porch heading toward the room where Jace's parents are sleeping.
Only when I'm a foot away do I deliberately make sound, stepping loudly enough to capture the man's attention. He whirls, ready to tackle when he comes face-to-face with the G19. Barely an inch of empty space rests between the tip of my gun and his forehead.
Shock shifts to confusion flickering across his face, no doubt wondering how I could be here when he saw me go back inside. Then, realization dawns. He pieces it together: I must have slipped out somewhere and doubled back.
"You saw me go inside so it's either you're desperate or incredibly stupid. Which is it?"
Expecting a criminal rogue to show remorse, even a modicum of guilt for whatever atrocity they were intent on committing is like asking for a miracle to happen. On the rare occasions it does, like with Christopher Weis, there are high stakes involved which make their motives understandable.
But most criminal rogues get a kick out of testing law enforcement. They enjoy staying on the outs with pack Weres – an allegorical 'Fuck you' – just to oppose authority.
Most criminal rogues despise pack Weres. They would gleefully do anything to make us squirm. This one is no different.
The taunting, upward curl of his mouth brushes against my skin like barbed wire wrapped in heavy duty sanding paper. Never has the urge to pull a trigger been more tempting when I think of the insidious intentions of this break-in attempt.
"Clever," he taunts, holding his hands up, palms facing outward. It's mocking. All of it. His tone. That expression. Putting his arms up as if he's surrendering. He means to provoke me which means he doesn't see me as a threat.
Maybe he's lived his whole life as a rogue. Had encounters with enough powerful pack Weres to dull the sense of caution. Or maybe he doesn't care. Regardless, he's not getting inside this house.
"What are you going to do, kid? Shoot me?" he continues with the taunts. His grin widens as my eyes narrow.
I could pull the trigger. It would be easy.
It would send a message to his benefactor, whom I know is Jessop Atkinson. Personally, I've no enemies who hate me to the point of threatening the lives of those important to me with imminent death. But my father has such enemies and no one else but that old bastard is my father's biggest hater.
Jessop never got over the death of his firstborn for which he blames my father. It's why five years after Ronan Atkinson died in a death match against my dad, the old man returned to Jasper Falls after seemingly disappearing off the face of the earth to nuke my family and break us beyond repair.
And now, he's doing the same to me.
Repeating the cycle of misery.
Creating a generational curse.
Only this time, if he succeeds in killing Jace, it will break me in ways I can't imagine.
Typically, Weres who have consummated their bond but lose their mates to death spiral and experience a slow, agonizing end if they don't share a pup between them.
The emotional loss fractures their mind and soon, they become unhinged.
Unable to recognize friend from foe. They lose appetite and sense of self, becoming a shell of who they used to be.
But sometimes, if the bond is intimate enough before consummation, it's possible an unmated Were can spiral if they lose their mate.
I've grown to love Jace more than I thought possible. I feel it in the marrow of my bones how deeply the bond goes – how intimate our connection has grown. If I have to watch him die, there'll be no coming back for me.
I adjust my grip on the gun's handle. "I'd hate to wake them up. There are quieter ways I could kill you."
The rogue chuckles. "Even if you manage that, or if you send me to the hospital like that other guy, he's going to keep sending people until he gets what he wants."
"Uh-huh. And what does your boss want?"
The rogue focuses his stare past the gun jammed against his forehead now, boring directly into me. "The end of your bloodline."
In the blink of an eye, I close the distance and slam the butt of the gun into the side of his head. He grunts and his body goes limp, but I manage to catch him by the front of his sweater before he hits the porch.
"Not in this lifetime, asshole."