Hunter Moon (Lupine Moon Series) (9 page)

 I nodded and stood, and then something occurred to me. “Where’s Cash?” Tyler had gone to his car to get some gloves and a flashlight, so it was sheriff Henderson who answered.

“Cash Newcomb? He’s just a game warden. This sort of thing is our jurisdiction. We told him to stay home. It would have been best if you’d have called us directly, Ms. Flint.” He said the last bit with a deep frown. Irritated just a little that Cash hadn’t come anyway, I was a little bit snappy.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Next time a strange man with a gun shows up outside my place in the middle of the night, I’ll be sure to have you on speed dial, sheriff.”

I stomped up my steps and went inside to get my things. Then the idiocy of what I’d just said struck me; 911, AKA the sheriff,
should
have been my first call. I knew it didn’t pay to be bitchy to your local law enforcement, but I was running on no sleep and the adrenaline rush had worn off. Plus, my knight in shining armor hadn’t shown.

I held together fine as Tyler grabbed my bag and helped me into the back of the sheriff car. I was perfectly coherent, if a little sleepy, as he drove the fifteen minute drive to his and Jesse’s little Western home. But as soon as Jesse walked out, tears sparkling in her eyes, and wrapped me up in a giant hug, saying, “Thank God you’re okay”, I lost it.

I collapsed onto their front porch, Jesse still hugging me in a death grip. I spouted hysterically about being too tough to cry, about evil cousins and finding dead guys. I cried about wolves saving my life, and men with guns, and finally about one infuriating man who didn’t care enough to come and check if I was still alive.

I don’t remember much after that. I suppose the exhaustion that I’d been fighting off had finally found me and I passed out. I woke up the next morning in the mass of pink, lacy frills that was Jesse’s guest bedroom. She’d decorated it for Tyler’s nieces, who came to stay for several weeks during the summer. It looked like Sorority Barbie had exploded.

I sat up and immediately regretted the decision. The pain blossomed flickering colors in front of my eyes and subsided when I laid my head gently back down on the pillows.

“Yeah, you might want to take it easy,” Jesse’s voice said from the corner. “You sorta passed out on me when we were walking to the bedroom, and I wasn’t strong enough to keep you from bumping your head against the door jam.” Jesse was 5’4” in three inch heels and 115 sopping wet. I wasn’t surprised she couldn’t manage my much sturdier frame.
Yeah,
sturdy
is a good way to put it.

“Shit, Jess. What kind of ‘bump’ makes my head feel like this?” I said, rubbing the large goose-egg on the side of my head. At least my hair would keep anyone from seeing it.

She looked guilty. “Well, ‘bump’ may have been putting it lightly, but you’ll be okay after a couple aspirin and a bag of ice.” I nodded and even
that
movement made my head want to explode again.

“If it’s not too much trouble—?” I asked glancing at the door. She made a little
oh!
noise and flew out of the room. When she didn’t return right away, I glanced at the Malibu Barbie clock.

“Crap, ten o’clock. I’ve got to get home and feed!” I sat up as slowly as possible, my head protesting the whole way, and slid out of bed. I worried about my starving animals. I was in my T-shirt and panties searching for my pants underneath the bed when I heard a familiar and most unwelcome voice behind me.

“As much as I love the view, shouldn’t you be in bed?”

 I jumped so hard I knocked my aching head on the underside of the bed. The pain was such that I could have been naked for all I cared. I held my hand on my head and I yelled out the door.

“Jessica Lynn Weaver, as God as my witness you will pay for this!”

I spun to Cash and punched him in the chest,
hard.
“Where the
hell
were you last night, dammit!” I would have laughed at the look of shock on his face if I hadn’t been spitting mad.

He rubbed his chest. “Shelby, the sheriff told me not to come. I can’t just go traipsing in another department’s crime scene just because you want me to. I’ll get written up!” His voice had a tinge of defensive anger, and it made me all the more furious.

“Oh, to hell with the sheriff! A man held a gun on me and you can’t be
bothered
to care about it!”

I punched him in the chest another time in exactly the same spot for good measure, and pulled my pants on.
I hope he has a bruise.
I snatched my overnight bag and tried to push past him, but he grabbed me by the shoulders.

“Goddamn it, Shells, don’t you think I wanted to be there?” he yelled back. “I was up all night waiting to hear from Weaver that you were okay!” I jerked out of his hands and stormed past him.

“Well, I’m glad you lost sleep over me,” I spat over my shoulder as I flew down the hallway. “Maybe that’ll make me feel better when I’m wide awake, terrified Mr. 22 will come back to finish the job.”

Okay, so I probably won’t lose sleep over this, but he doesn’t have to know that.
Jesse was nowhere to be found as I ran out of the house. Just as well, I was in no mood to be merciful. I still hadn’t gotten those aspirin and an ice pack.

With Cash right behind me, I slammed the door shut on him as I left. I felt a smidge better when I heard him swear. All of those good feelings were lost when I remembered my Blazer wasn’t here because I had ridden with Tyler.
Well shoot.

I didn’t want to waste a perfectly good storm out by asking Cash for a ride. I turned toward Jesse’s garage and threw my bag into the back of her old Saturn. I knew she wouldn’t mind me borrowing it, and I knew she knew I was absolutely furious at her for letting Cash get the jump on me, so I didn’t feel the least bit sorry when I took the keys from the visor and tore out of her driveway. Cash having to dodge behind his truck to avoid being hit by spraying gravel was an added bonus.

I felt a bit more human when stepped out of my shower. Towel wrapped around my waist, I walked into my bedroom and gave Reggie a pat on the head. I still couldn’t figure out why he had stayed on my bed last night instead of protecting me like a good guard dog should.

 My head still smarted where I’d hit the door jam, but the handful of ibuprofen had helped that immensely. That and hearing Cash yell and pound on my door for the last twenty minutes. I should have recorded him as my ringtone but pay-as-you-go phones aren’t fancy enough for that.

I hummed to myself and threw on a pair of workout shorts and a tank top. I picked up my 12 gauge Benelli, walked to the front door and pumped it. I read an article a few years back about how the simple sound of racking a shotgun did more to instill fear in an intruder than the gun itself. If Cash’s immediate silence was any indication, they weren’t wrong.

“Now Shells, don’t do anything stupid, alright? I just want to talk.” Cash’s voice sounded no small bit wary, and if I heard things correctly, a little farther off than before. I smiled, opened the door and leveled the barrel at his chest. It was gun owner’s 101 that you never point a gun at anyone, but I was feeling surly.
He doesn’t have to know the gun is empty.

“Only my close friends have the right to call me ‘Shells’, and seeing as you don’t care whether I live or die, I’d prefer if you’d stop using it.” My voice dripped with acid. I continued to smile sweetly, if a bit forced. “Now talk.”

Cash nodded, eyes glued to the barrel, and cleared his throat. “I’ll talk when you put that gun down.”

I narrowed my eyes and pulled the trigger. It clicked. I let out a sharp bark of laugher when he flinched. Outrage flashed in his eyes and before I knew it, I was on the ground with Cash laying heavily on top of me. Shocked, and not failing to notice he had been careful not to hurt me, I tried to thump him with the gun, but it was no longer in my hands.

He flashed a scary smile. It was all white, straight teeth and angry eyes. My stomach sank.
You might have pushed him too far this time.

“I don’t think so,
Shells.
” And then he kissed me. He had my wrists pinned to the porch by my head, and the weight of him made it so I could barely breathe, let alone move. Furious, I bit his lip and was rewarded with his grunt of pain and a taste of salty tang. He growled deep in his chest kissed me harder.

Something about that animal sound melted all of my resolve, and the heat that I’d ignored for days burst into the forefront. I kissed him back, letting my tongue glide along where I had bit him, but I couldn’t feel the marks my teeth should have left. He groaned and released my wrists, instead spanning my hips with his big hands. Now free, I tugged his shirt loose and slid my hands up the planes of his back, reveling in the heat and silkiness of his skin.

Cash let another growl loose, but this time something familiar tickled the back of my mind. Breaking away from his kiss, I looked into his eyes and saw a faint green glow. I jerked away from him, breathing hard. He groaned and rolled onto his back, looking disheveled. His hair was mussed and his uniform shirt was untucked and halfway unbuttoned.
When had that happened?

“You are quite possibly the most frustrating woman I have ever had the misfortune of meeting.” I let out a very unladylike squawk in protest. He put his arm over his face, so I leaned over him.

“
I’m
frustrating? I don’t even know what you
are
, let alone what you want. You can be such a jerk and you. Keep.
Kissing. Me!
” I said and punctuated each word with a hard poke to his arm. He grunted and stood. Frowning, he pulled me up and held me against his chest.

“I’d be really happy if you quit hitting me, woman.”

He gave me such a look of censure I dissolved into laughter. He tried to keep a straight face, but I saw the corners of his mouth quirk.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal,” I said after I quit laughing. “I’ll stop hitting you if you give me one good reason why you didn’t come and check that I was alive last night.” My smile slid off my face and worry flashed across his.

“Shells, I told you, I couldn’t because of the Sheriff. You’re just going to have to—hey!” I had turned on a dime, picked up my shotgun and marched straight back into my trailer. The door was almost closed when a size twelve boot got in the way.

“Dammit, Shelby! You have to talk to me, alright?”

I couldn’t see his face, but when I grabbed three shells out of the federal ammunition box and loaded them into the shotgun, his foot disappeared.

“Shelby, I know you’re home. Answer your damn phone! I need to talk to you about what happened today and last night with that man. It’s important.” He paused for a few seconds, and then sighed. “Alright, whatever. I get that you’re still mad, but if you don’t call me back by tonight, first thing tomorrow morning I’m breaking down that door and dragging your ass outside, shotgun or no shotgun.”