Chapter 23 #2
West takes one look at the media circus parading about Aveline’s house with their picket line and cardboard signs, all declaring various ways to reduce the local wolf population, and his face closes.
“I’ll be right back. Ma’am,” he murmurs, nodding to Aveline, before he heads for the small garden shed at the rear of the property. A moment later, he returns with his arms full of tools and attacks the damaged door.
I curse internally that I can’t help him, but I know I’ll only be a hindrance. Today is not the time to test the newfound independence that both West and Billy have helped me develop over a crappy week of intensive PT and enforced rest.
Instead, I cast a critical eye over Jenkins’s combined forces until I spot the man himself.
My feet make quick work of the manicured lawn that I know Dallas has put his magic touch to, and only for someone he cares about.
That conversation can come later. The older man must have a soft spot for the much younger woman, not that I care.
If he’s kept his dalliance a secret from the entire town as well as Coyote Falls, then it means the age gap between them bothers him.
Something tells me he hasn’t revealed that little secret to Aveline just yet, and that sits poorly with me.
Another chat I schedule for later, for after I fix my own relationship problems.
Having Lanie here with me right now would be a massive help.
She knows so much more about the gray wolves than I do.
I doubt there’s a dire wolf rampaging through Valiant Peak.
The “monster” is purely Pollux Jenkins’s creation to stir the crowd into a witch hunt to earn himself a little extra side cash and his fifteen seconds of local fame on a short-lived pedestal.
I step to the back of the crowd, listening to the prepared speech he’s already halfway through.
“…wolf is a wily beast. It uses a combination of scent and pheromone trails to track its prey and return to its last haunt, where it will do the most damage, time and again.” Jenkins oozes at his followers, smiling into a camera.
His eyes flick back toward Aveline Swanson’s cottage.
A knowing expression widens his predatory smile, and the camera captures every nuance, just as he intends.
I’m surprised the lens doesn’t crack beneath the weight of his bullshit.
Not a damn thing he says rings true. Lanie, I need you.
For more than one reason. Sure, I can storm on over, pull my weight around, but last time I crossed swords with the con artist, Lanie was the one who put the scammer in his place, not me.
I stood there as backup, towing my ass along for the ride. And at no point did she need me.
Not once.
The thought of her independence slices at me. I’m both proud of her for being so strong and devastated that she can walk away from me so easily when I’m emotionally crippled without her. Because I want her back so damn bad, it burns.
Because I miss her. In my arms, in my home. At Coyote.
Chasing wolves with her, watching her dive-bomb tech because she can’t fly a drone for shit. Laughing with her when neither of us could work something out. My eyes sting at the deluge of memories as I stand stock-still on someone else’s lawn. Dammit.
I love you.
Hearing those words from her meant everything to me.
They still do. If I hadn’t made the bet, none of this would have happened.
But she sat there through the days when I was out in the hospital, and she never left.
The nurses and West both confirmed it. Winnie has slapped me over the head with that piece of information time and again since the homestead grew cold and empty without her.
So if she loves me and stayed that long when I was unconscious, why the hell did she leave?
A cold fury, fueled by my inability to bring her back to me in this moment, erupts inside me. Before I can think the action through, my feet move faster than my body can take. I plow through the middle of Jenkins’s camera crew and shove at the first body that gets in my way.
“Get your ass off this poor woman’s lawn, Jenkins, or you’ll find your business won’t last another week. Is that clear?” I bark, uncaring who films me or what words fall out of my mouth.
West storms toward me, his face darkening.
I agree with his unspoken sentiment broadcast all over his face; logically, I know my outburst just cost me a small fortune in legal fees, but I no longer care.
All I want right now is peace and fucking quiet, a fast trip to Alaska, and Lanie back in my arms. Hell, I’ll bring her wolves back to Coyote Falls if that’s what she needs.
How fast can I buy land in Alaska? Are there tariffs or treaties I need to know about?
My head swirls with the overfocus. West isn’t the only one with superpowers when it comes to work. This is what I do—or at least, it’s who I used to be, tackling problems on a larger scale in an instant.
A hand grips my shoulder, but his grip isn’t as forceful as I expect as West levers me back.
I don’t twist, knowing I can’t, and stare Jenkins down. “Get this circus gone, or you’ll find your next interview heavily features the color orange,” I murmur, my threat all the more implicit for my sudden calm.
Jenkins takes one look at my face and scampers. His cult follows in his wake, leaving a trampled mud puddle where grass used to be. The mob did more damage than the supposed dire wolf. I still swear that vandalism was more likely done by a human than it was any beastie.
“Better,” West mutters near my ear. “Now, you owe a pretty lady a big apology for scaring the absolute shit out of her and everyone here, because no one else here except for Dallas and me are used to seeing the great Cordell Rand lose his shit in public. Then you can pay Dallas for screwing with that nice lawn you’ve trounced all over like a pony having a temper tantrum.
McCullins’s legal office is going to need to know what the hell just happened, and we need a trip to the local hardware store because Miss Swanson is now out of the supplies I just used up.
You sure your bank account can handle all that, Rand?
” West’s voice strains at the end of the largest speech I’ve ever heard him give.
Mine isn’t the only limit tested today. He’s never managed well with crowds, unless it’s the rodeo life. The one exception to his rule.
I nod, letting him guide me to my truck parked behind a line of cars that’s fast disappearing.
“My bank account might manage. It’s my ego that’s taking the hit,” I acknowledge.
“And maybe my heart. After we do this, have we got time to work out the cost of travel to Alaska? Plus, there’s another job I need you to do for me. ”
West starts the engine of my truck after he helps me strap in. I’m still crap at working the seat belt clasp. “A job is something I’ve always got time for, even when you’re neck-deep in show-ponying. Just don’t try to wrangle yourself a dire wolf, and I’ll be there for you.”
I grin, easing my ass onto the leather seat heater I can barely feel. But I can feel something, and that matters.
“Deal.”