Shades of Grey (13 page)

That’s not going to work this time, asshole…

Travis leapt forward, shoving Clark to the ground.

“Stephen! Help! A fucking wolf!”

Travis put his front paws on Clark’s chest and snarled. The man lay stupefied, scared shitless. If Travis was in human form he’d have laughed. He glanced at the sheriff. Stephen was in a world of his own, scribbling notes.

Jesus Christ…

He looked back down at Clark, debating whether to rip his fucking throat out like he’d promised.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Clark said, narrowing his eyes. “Goddamn knew it was you outside Sarah’s. How the fuck do you do that?” Clark shook his head, some of the fear disappearing from his eyes. He smiled, his fleshy lips wet and quivering. “You know what? You’re wasting time here, fucker.”

Travis cocked his head.
What?

Clark’s bravado returned. “Yeah. You’d better get ready to run, wolf boy. You in the mood for a sprint?”

Travis checked Clark over for signs of a gun, annoyed with himself that the human side of him prevented him from killing this motherfucker.

What the hell is he on about?

Clark lifted his arm slowly and peered at his watch. “Yeah, right about…now.”

Travis dipped his head, opening his mouth to release a menacing growl.

“Aww, get the hell off me, wolf boy. You need to take a jog. Back to your clothes. You’ll find the next clue there.”

Travis hesitated, wondering if this was just another of Clark’s sick games.

“Run along, freak.” Clark laughed, holding his belly, delirious with hilarity.

Travis stared at him. Clark’s switch from being so scared then laughing as though nothing fazed him was something Travis hadn’t seen before. He urged himself to clamp his teeth around that throat and bite hard.

Clark stopped laughing abruptly. “You still here? Go on, fuck off. Check your clothes. You want another clue?” He paused, licking his lips. “Sarah’s alone, right?”

Travis sped away, leaving that fucked-up scene behind him. He’d deal with it later when he knew Sarah was safe. He’d call the deputy and offer up an interview. No way was he going down for a murder he didn’t commit.

The air burned his lungs. His legs screamed from the vigorous exercise. His mouth dried out. Head pounding with panic, paws smacking the ground, he raced back the way he had come. It seemed to take an age for him to reach the fence where he’d left his clothes. He shifted again, tired out from the amount of times he’d changed tonight, and dived for his jeans. Searched the pockets. Searched the ground. Searched them both again.

The key to Sarah’s house was gone.

A slight rustle sounded behind him, then a blinding pain entered his head. His knees buckled, and as he fell to the ground, his last thought was that someone had hit him with a goddamn baseball bat.

Chapter Ten

The following morning, Sarah blinked rapidly against the sunlight shining through the thin material of her bedroom curtains. She rolled over, the aches and pains reminding her of the adventures of the night before.

“Travis,” she called, frowning when she couldn’t hear him. Moving out of the bed, she pulled on her robe and looked in the bathroom, then his room and, finding them empty, went downstairs, sure he would be around somewhere.

She glanced through the kitchen window. The men worked, but Travis was nowhere to be seen.

Had he gone and left her?

Don’t be ridiculous. He’s out there somewhere, that’s all
.

The kettle wheezing was the only sound in the room. Sarah barely heard it. It felt like her heart was being ripped out as she thought the worst.

Travis was gone and not coming back.

She stood in the kitchen for the longest time, her whole body working on automatic. She didn’t think about her actions. She removed the kettle from the stove, adding milk, sugar and coffee to two cups, which she then filled with boiling water. Her hands shook, and tears wet her cheeks. Until recently, she hadn’t cried in an age, had vowed not to over any man, yet here she was, mind elsewhere, crying out her upset, anger and loss of a man she’d thought had given a shit about her.

How wrong could I fucking be?

She glanced down at the cups and frowned. Took one and threw it in the sink, yelling out her pain. Sarah held on to the sink and raged, the painful noises coming out of her revealing her heartbreak. The first time she’d opened her heart and body to a man and he was gone.

A knock at her back door made Sarah stand and gather her wits. She hastily wiped her face, took a deep breath, went to the door and opened it.

“How can I help you, Gavin?” Her voice was calm, if a little hoarse, and she knew her face must be red.

Gavin stepped over the threshold. “Sorry, Miss French, but the men and I heard ya screaming and we were worried.” He pulled his Stetson from his head and fiddled with the damn thing.

She shouldn’t be listening to his worry, even though it touched her somewhere deep inside that the men cared enough to check on her. She shouldn’t even have to deal with this shit. Did they care she was upset just because she was a woman? If she was a man, would one of them have walked up to her damn house and asked if she was okay? No, she didn’t think they would.

Not caring about her naked state underneath her robe, she placed her hands on his chest, gently pushed him out of her house and down the steps. The men, some of them old workers from when her father was in charge, glanced at her with pity in their eyes.

She didn’t want or need their pity—she was fine on her own like she always had been, and she wouldn’t have any of these men tell her otherwise. They’d probably heard all about the fracas at Macy Jo’s last night. Maybe guessed Travis had brought her home, fucked her, then fucked off.

“Have you got a problem?” she yelled.

They all stared at the ground or kept their gazes everywhere else but on her.

She was done with this shit.

“I asked you guys a question!” Sarah was determined to have the fight that was brewing inside her. She knew she shouldn’t be taking it out on the men, but Travis wasn’t here, and if he ever turned up again, she’d have lost the urge to yell and scream at him.

“We were just worried about you, Sarah. The men mean nothing by it,” one of the ranch workers spoke up.

“I don’t need any of your worry. I don’t need anything from you except work. Take a good old look at me. I’ll let you know exactly what’s wrong before the gossip-mongers really get going. That way you’ll have heard it directly from me and not some nasty old bitch in town. I’m a fallen woman. I gave my body to Travis Williams last night and he fucked off.”

Her outburst was a little too dramatic, but she hadn’t been able to stop herself. The tears were fast flowing again, her anger rife. She shook from the pent-up emotion dying to be unleashed—and, God, there was so much more inside her to come out. She didn’t want to do it now, or here, but she knew she wouldn’t see Travis in time to let it loose.

“No lady like you should be talking like that.”

Her eyes blurred against the waves of pain at the unseen man’s words. She was a lady, her daddy had told her that. She’d given her heart and body to Travis thinking he’d meant what he’d said, and now he wasn’t here, just like her damn instincts had screamed. Was this normal protocol for guys to lie in order to get a fuck? In truth, she didn’t have the first clue what to expect, not with guys like that anyway, but she’d hoped it would have been something special. Thought
he
had been someone special.

This was what you got for giving your heart to a man? Crushed, humiliated and alone? She should have just stuck with her old life, keeping everyone at a distance. She didn’t need men then and she wouldn’t need them now. In fact, she was already sick of seeing fucking men.

“Get the fuck off my ranch,” she screamed at the workers.

They looked at her, shocked, and in that moment she couldn’t have cared less.

“You heard me. Get the fuck off my ranch and don’t come back.”

She threw a stone off her porch. It landed somewhere in the middle of the group, kicking up dust. The crowd dispersed slowly, the older ones glancing at her with sadness clearly written in their eyes.

Panting for breath, she stalked back into her kitchen, knowing she’d really messed things up now. With no men to help run the ranch it’d go to ruin, but a part of her revelled in not caring. They were out of a job, no wages coming in from here on out, and she was to blame. Her and her hot temper.

But her stubborn pride wouldn’t allow her to call them back.

She shut the back door. It rattled inside the frame. She looked at the door Travis had spent so long repairing. He’d done a really good job. Running her hand along the wood, such a simple touch, she thought she could feel Travis. It was a bizarre and surreal moment. She sensed fresh air and panic as he ran, as though she was tied to him somehow. Her fuzzy brain was connecting with something… Was that a wolf she saw in her mind’s eye? Shaking her head against the craziness, she ploughed her fist through one of the small window panes in the door.

She cried out with the pain but at the same time relished it. The pain was a welcome relief from all the hurtful emotions in her heart.

Shaking her head to try to disperse the thought of Travis and a wolf, she pulled her hand back inside and wrapped her fist in a towel. She would have to go to the emergency room. Hadn’t her daddy told her to control her temper otherwise it would start to cost money?

“Sorry, Daddy, but I’m sure this once you can forgive me,” she whispered and made her way upstairs to dress.

Once inside her room, she stared at the bed she’d shared with Travis, where she’d lost her precious virginity and given Travis more of herself than she’d ever given another human being. Tying the cloth into a knot on her bloodied knuckles, she pulled the duvet from the bed and threw it in the corner by the door. She continued to strip the bed, cheeks blazing hot at the red stain on her sheets, until it was bare and she was panting and sweaty from her work.

“That’s it, I quit. I’m selling this place, Daddy. Do you hear me? I want fuck all to do with this shithole.” She screamed, cursed and pushed all of her passion into her anger.

Still sweating, determined to get done with everything, she changed into baggy sweat pants and shirt, intent on keeping her mind focused. She would rid her life of her problems. Go to the emergency room, get herself checked out, and then she’d put this place up for sale. Screw the town and Macy Jo and all the Travises of this world. She was done. One guy and that was enough for her.

Once fully dressed, she pulled her hair into a pony tail, washed her face and the excess blood off her hand, wincing at the sting. She retied it with the cloth and gazed at her reflection in the small bathroom mirror, unable to see much beyond a huge pair of empty eyes looking back at her. Not satisfied, she went to the full-length mirror in her father’s bedroom. She took time to look at herself. Even in the baggy clothes she could see the outline of her every curve. Should she feel different, or
did
she look different from last night? She stared harder, trying to detect any subtle difference about her person. Her ass was still a little too big and her breasts fuller than the average woman’s. And her eyes still shot daggers.

She could see the swell of her hips, see Travis’ hand glide down and hold them. See Travis standing behind her. He wasn’t there, but her mind remembered him and wanted him. Her body responded with the budding of her nipples, jutting against her shirt, as well as a rapid pulse in her pussy. She cupped her mound through the restricting fabric and moaned. He’d awakened her as a woman, and, as much as she cursed and scolded men and her life, she knew she would never be the same. Her body was alive and ready for her man. Her nipples were sore from his suckling last night and her pussy ached from the use and the need to be fucked.

All of these changes were part of who she was and, no matter how much she raved or was driven crazy, this was who she was.

Her mind and sanity returning, she stopped the self-torment, knowing she was being stupid. Taking a deep breath, she decided she would go to the hospital then make calls to all of the men who worked for her.

She owed them an apology.

What if Travis has only gone into town?

What if he’d got called away for something? Now she had a calmer attitude, she saw a multitude of ‘
What if
…
?’
questions forming that he could answer if she found him innocently shopping for new leather oil or visiting the blacksmith—and that could be a possibility.

“Bad, Sarah, very bad.”

She remembered the other spare key, which she’d left for him on the hook of a ceramic key holder, shaped like a pig, she had in the hallway. Had she even told him he could use it, that it was there? She wasn’t sure and left her father’s bedroom, gathered up the dirty laundry from hers and put it in the machine downstairs, then made herself a coffee. She walked slowly to the hallway in search of that spare key. If it was hanging on its little hook, she’d know Travis wasn’t coming back, but if it wasn’t there then she had some serious work to do to make it up to the men.

How she could repay them for being such a bitch?

Closing her eyes for the last final steps, nerves got the better of her and she stood holding on to the unit that lived there.

“Open your eyes, Sarah,” she said.

She ignored herself.

“Come on, this is ridiculous. Open your eyes.” She opened them and her joy when the spare key was gone overwhelmed her. She squealed in happiness and jumped. Travis hadn’t abandoned her. There was no key. Shaking with relief, she started making breakfast for herself, whistling.

She wondered if she had enough cash to throw the men a disco or something with a band. Anything they wanted by way of an apology.

The phone rang, and she removed her eggy bread from the stove and went to the living room where one of the only phones lay.

“Hello,” she answered.