Lessons in Purrsuasion: BBW Paranormal Werelion Surprise Pregnancy Mob Romance (Chicago Catastrophe) (2 page)

S
tone Calloway woke at 5
:30, like he always did. After a morning run and some breakfast, he had pretty much run out of ideas of what to do with his day. This, too, was sadly not unusual.

He’d never considered what an idle life would exactly look like. Being retired at thirty hadn’t been in his plans, not that he’d ever really been one for planning. To be completely honest, he had always figured he’d be dead by now.

Seeing as his fridge was almost empty, he figured he might as well go to the grocery store and stock up. He got in his Porsche Viper, the car being one of his few indulgences. It was a flashy reminder of more exciting times. He imagined how good it would feel to really put his foot down on the gas, to see what it could do, get that adrenaline going…

Of course, he ended up getting stuck in bumper to bumper traffic instead.

When Stone finally arrived at his local Whole Foods, he was more than a little sour. Strolling through the aisles, his mood got even worse.

What the hell is quinoa? And why does everything have to have kale in it?

He would have to remember to never listen to his neighbor again. He’d said this was the most well-stocked store in the area.

Then where are all the actually edible things?

It’s not like Stone could cook, anyway. In the Navy, one ate whatever slop was placed in front of them. After his tours, he’d just grabbed a bite at whatever joint happened to be on his way from one stakeout to another. He had never really had a chance to learn things normal people naturally knew how to do. Most of the time, he was fine with that.

A high, female scream from the aisle over got his attention, and he found himself hoping the place was being robbed. Even a simple mugging would do. He rushed over, but there was no emergency. Just a couple of soccer moms who hadn’t seen each other in a while and gotten excited.

I shouldn’t be wishing for horrible things to happen just so I could have some fun,
he told himself grimly.

Stone made it to the cash register and paid for his six-pack of beer and two pounds of beef before driving back home. No emergencies on the way back, either. Not even a roadside fight to break up.

A little after noon, just as Stone was deciding on whether he should take up skydiving or paragliding to fill his time, his phone rang. He practically leapt at it.

There is only so much weight-lifting and gun-polishing a man can do before he loses his mind.

“Hey, Stone, it’s Joe,”
a familiar voice flowed into his ear.

A real blast from the past. A past that
definitely
had not been boring.

“Joe Rozack? Hey, man, what’s up?” he answered, surprised to hear from his old friend.

“I didn’t know who else to call. I really need your help,”
Joe said, his voice tired and desperate.

“What’s wrong?” Stone asked, immediately alarmed.

“It’s my sister. They’ve taken my little sister… Oh, god.”

Joe sounded as if he were about ready to come apart at the seams.

“What? Who?” Stone asked, trying to get his friend to calm down and choose his words.

No one had ever accused Stone of being eloquent.

“Can you come here to Chicago? I’ll explain everything, please. I can pay you,”
Joe pleaded.

Stone sighed. Joe had covered his ass more times than he’d like to admit and now, he’d obviously gotten himself wrapped up in something dangerous. Stone paused, thinking as he looked up at his modest home. The one that was boring him out of his mind.

I was supposed to be done with all of that…

There was only one thing he could say.

“Keep your money. I’ll start looking for flights.”

* * *

T
he plane touched
down with a jolt, bringing Stone out of his ruminations. He and Joe had definitely had some interesting times together. Most of the memories they shared were covered in blood and sand. But then Joe had his injury and returned home, dedicating himself to the family business.

What different paths their lives had taken.

Stone rented a car at the airport and used the coordinates Joe gave him to get to the bakery the Rozack family ran together. It was a charming little place, very inviting except for the ‘closed’ sign on the door. As he was getting out of the car, Joe rushed out to meet him, as if on cue, and dragged Stone inside without a word.

“Hello to you as well, brother,” Stone murmured, flicking looks up and down the street as he stepped into the bakery.

Joe looked a lot more ragged than when Stone last saw him almost two years ago. His dark brown hair was still closely cropped to his head, but his tall frame was leaner than Stone remembered. He was still a good-looking guy, even though his eyes looked more sunken in and his cheeks were hollower.

“Take a seat,” Joe said, motioning around the deserted bakery as he dragged a hand through his hair nervously.

Joe locked the door behind them.

They sat behind one of the little tables set out for customers. Stone sent out his senses, the lion inside on full alert. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it felt good. Like he was finally wearing the right skin again, the one of a warrior, not a… well, whatever he was these days. The way his lion was almost placid was confirmation enough of that.

The bakery was empty, save for him and Joe. The pictures on the wall told the story of a loving family. Joe’s mother and father looked just as in love in the newer pictures as in the black and white ones taken decades ago.

“Where is everyone?” Stone asked, turning his gaze back to Joe.

“I sent them away. Not home, of course. Motels, mostly.”

He was stuck somewhere inside his own head and Stone needed him to start making sense fast.

“Joe, I need you to start at the beginning. Tell me everything,” Stone commanded, quiet but stern.

Joe gathered himself, nodding. His eyes focused.

“Have you heard of the Crimson Claws?” he asked.

“You know I’ve been deliberately keeping myself out of that world,” Stone reminded him, his expression getting grim.

Unfortunately enough, though, the name struck a chord with him. A man could try to keep himself out of the life, but that didn’t mean that the life could stay away from him.

Men like Stone Calloway were few and far between. Though he had been working for himself prior to retiring, powerful organizations had come knocking on his door more than once. He’d even done a few odd jobs for The Firm, a well-known enterprise bringing together clean and dirty money, and shapeshifter operatives with military training.

In their ranks, he had come to know intimately of the likes of the Crimson Claws and The Arctics. Shifter terror and crime organizations were a dime a dozen, but every now and then, one or two would rise to the top in any given area and decimate anyone that got in their way.

Without even knowing who the Crimson Claws were exactly, Stone could guess well enough.

No one good.

“Right. They’re new players in town and let me tell you, it’s nothing like I’ve ever seen before. Even the other criminals are scared of them. They’re all shifters, mostly tigers, or so I’ve heard,” Joe explained, seeming a bit calmer now that he got talking.

“They’ve been expanding quickly. Our neighborhood is only the latest on a long list of areas they control. Last month, a couple of goons came by, saying we need to start making monthly payments. For the privilege of being allowed to do business on Crimson lands, as if they can make those decisions for us,” Joe scoffed, face twisting bitterly.

“We said no. We’ve been shaken down for protection money before. I may not be what I once was,” Joe said, tapping his plastic shin, “But I’m still a marine and you already know about my gun habit,” he continued with a small smile, which fell as quickly as it had appeared.

“I didn’t know they’d take her. If I would’ve known…” he trailed off, staring at the table.

“It’s not your fault, Joe. How long has she been missing?” Stone asked, hating to see his friend in so much pain.

His mind was already hard at work, considering their options. Not that there seemed to be many.

“I walked her to her car the night before last. When she didn’t show up for work in the morning, I knew something was wrong. I went to her apartment. Her keys were on the ground, the door was locked. She never made it inside.”

His friend’s voice was trembling now, he was probably imagining every possible worst case scenario.

“And you called the cops?”

“Of course. But there are no leads. And even if there were, how do I know the Crimson Claws don’t have someone bought off inside the department to make sure the investigation goes nowhere? Besides, it’s not like the cops are equipped to take on shifters,” Joe said, running a hand down the back of his neck in frustration.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” Stone asked.

“I want to hire you,” he answered, eyes burning.

“I don’t do that anymore,” Stone got out, despite his lion already raging against that answer, before being interrupted.

“I want to hire you to find my sister and kill whoever gets in the way,” Joe continued, his face tightening to a mask of rage.

“You’re the only shot I’ve got, Stone. You know the underworld, you’re a shifter, and oh, you’re a goddamn navy SEAL!” Joe continued.

“I used to be a navy SEAL,” Stone amended.

“That’s bull and you know it. Once a SEAL, always a SEAL,” Joe countered, voice turning to steel.

Joe was right. He as uniquely equipped to help. And who was he kidding, as soon as Joe had called saying he needed help, he knew he would do anything his friend asked. It sure beat doing the daily scramble in the back of the newspaper and praying that something would break around the house so he’d have something to do.

“Okay. I’ll do what I can. But you have to realize… I can’t guarantee a happy ending.”

The look Joe gave him told Stone that his friend was well-aware of what was at stake here and what the consequences might be.

If she’s alive at all anymore
.

“You don’t need to be gentle with me. I know she could already be dead,” Joe said, as if reading Stone’s thoughts, his mouth a thin line.

“They took her to teach a lesson, to show what happens if you don’t do what they want. That means if they had killed her, you would have found the body by now,” Stone rationalized.

“Then what are they doing with her?” Joe asked, not really wanting an answer.

Stone’s expression turned glum.

What indeed.

T
he “safehouse” Parker
mentioned turned out to be a lavish penthouse apartment in the heart of Chicago. A private elevator was the only way to get to the top floor and armed guards milled around every exit and entrance, both inside and outside the building.

Parker’s men carefully took off their shoes before entering. They got rid of Selina’s muddy sneakers as well, but it didn’t do much good. Her feet were still covered in wet dirt and she took great satisfaction in tracking it on the beige marble floors. She only wished she could find a nice, fluffy white rug to really do some damage on.

The apartment was opulent in a tasteless kind of way. Everything screamed money, from the floors to the excessive use of gold, from the top-of-the-line electronics to the gaudy chandelier in the foyer.

Selina sat down on one of the antique-looking couches before anyone could stop her. Her guards looked horrified as they shooed her off the red velvet. She suppressed the smirk dancing on the edges of her lips. They didn’t seem half as scary surrounded by their boss’s belongings as they had when she was being marched into the dark woods by them.

So Parker has a weakness for the finer things,
she mused, thinking of ways she could use that against him.

Speak of the devil, Parker chose that moment to stride in. He frowned at the dirty footprints on the floor before turning to smile at Selina.

“What do you think?” he asked, sweeping a hand over the huge living area.

“I think you should fire your decorator,” she replied, savoring the way Parker’s grin faded.

“Don’t be rude,” he snapped as he came to a stop before her, grabbing her face, his fingers digging painfully into her jaw.

Irritating the man who kidnapped you and almost killed you – I’ve had better ideas,
Selina thought, regretting letting her temper get the better of her.

“I’m sorry,” she managed, despite the awkward position her lips were in due to Parker’s grip.

He let go, the smile back on his face. Selina’s face stung, but that was the least of her problems right now.

“Good. Now go get cleaned up.”

He was pointing at one of the doors near the entrance and looking at her expectantly.

Selina stood, unsure of how to proceed. She raised her hands, still in zip-ties, her wrists red and swollen from where the plastic cut into her skin.

“Oh, right. Tom?” Parker said, nodding at the red-haired man who had threatened her outside her apartment.

Tom produced a knife from somewhere on his body and cut the ties. Selina rubbed her wrists, feeling the blood flow returning to her hands. Watching him return the knife, she got the feeling that it might not be the only one he was hiding on him.

“There’s a robe in the bathroom. Put your clothes in the basket,” Parker added offhandedly, already strolling towards some other room.

“Why am I here?” Selina asked, not at all thrilled by the idea of taking off her clothes, no matter how dirty they were.

“You don’t ask the questions here, sweetheart. Now get in the bathroom, or would you like someone to accompany you?” Parker queried, raising a challenging brow.

“I’m fine,” Selina huffed, already moving towards the door.

The bathroom was just as garish as the rest of the penthouse.

What’s this dude’s obsession with gold?
she wondered, looking around after locking the door behind her.

Selina knew the flimsy bathroom lock would do little to protect her if any of the men outside decided to barge in, but it was the principle of the thing, really. She let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding in. Even the illusion of momentary safety was better than nothing.

She quickly peeled off her clothes and jumped in the shower, which was stocked with all sorts of fancy bottles, mostly catered towards men.

She didn’t dawdle while scrubbing herself clean, keeping her eyes on the door the whole time. Putting her underwear in the laundry basket seemed all sorts of icky, but Selina got a feeling she had better follow the rules.

Got to play along. For now.

The robe hanging near the door was very fluffy and comfortable, but most importantly, it was large enough to cover her from head to toe. She had to take some deep breaths before she got up the courage to open the door again and step out of the bathroom.

The floor had already been cleaned. No dirty footprints, only shining marble. Selina hoped with all her might the shower was about Parker’s penchant for cleanliness and nothing else. She yanked the robe’s belt even tighter around her. Two guards still stood at the entrance to the apartment, dressed in matching black suits, but everyone else seemed to have cleared out or at least gotten out of sight. Parker was standing at the small bar, tucked away near one of the large windows.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked, turning to her with a smile.

Selina slowly padded towards him, the floors cold under her bare feet.

What is this, a date?
she scoffed to herself.

“None for me, thank you,” she said, trying her best to stay calm and polite.

Who knows what he’ll slip in there.

Parker’s eyes bore into her, the usual blue starting to swirl with gold.

“What would you like to drink?” he asked again, more forcefully this time.

Selina glanced at the bottles, spotting an unopened one.

“White wine, please.”

She kept an eye on Parker as he opened the bottle and poured her a glass.

Okay, so it’s probably not drugged,
she thought, trying to find a silver lining amidst this madness.

Parker guided her towards one of the sofas, holding a glass of what looked like whiskey.

“How’s the wine?” he asked, prompting Selina to take a rushed sip.

“Very good,” she answered, hoping she sounded like she knew what she was talking about.

“You’re probably wondering why I didn’t kill you.”

Finally to the point then.

“I find you very attractive and as you can see, I like having nice things around. You’ll stay here with me and when the time comes, you’ll become my mate and give me a nice litter of cubs,” he continued, as if they were discussing little more than dinner options or what show to watch on Netflix.

“I’ll
what
?” Selina exclaimed, shooting up from her seat, making the wine slosh on the floor. “I don’t think so!”

“
I
will treat you well
, don’t worry. Anything you want,” he continued, but Selina could barely hear what he was saying over the sound of her heart thumping in panic.

“I’d rather die,” she spat out from behind gritted teeth.

Parker considered her impassively. He was a handsome man, in a scary, rip your throat out kind of way, but that really wasn’t enough for Selina. Not by a longshot.

“Is that really what you want? You never know, I might grow on you,” Parker said coolly. “We tigers have needs… and I believe you will fit well to appease mine.”

Grow on me like a fungus
, Selina thought, disgusted.

“You’re insane,” was all she ended up saying, shocked.

“I could track down your whole family and paint these walls with their blood. Is that insane enough for you?” Parker inquired in between sips of his drink.

His tone of voice was perfectly conversational as he leaned back in his seat.

Not this again
.

But the threat was still just as effective as when Tom said it.

Selina would do anything to keep her loved ones safe. So she would play along, be the compliant little prisoner.

Just long enough for Parker to let his guard down.

If he ever does.

Quietly, she sat back down, trying to still the shivers that seemed to be wracking her whole body.