Shades of Grey (15 page)

“Farcults? What the fucking hell are you going on about, asshole?” Clark stopped walking and stared at Rodney as though he wanted to land one on him.

Rodney stopped too, a frown firmly in place. “You know, she ain’t got all her marbles.”

“Faculties. You mean faculties. Jeez, man, you’re a fine one to talk. And so what if she hasn’t got all her
farcults?
Who needs a woman with brains when you’re just fucking her hole?”

Rodney laughed, and they resumed walking.

“Oh, yeah,” Clark said. “I want a piece of that, sure as fucking shit I do. So, she’s secure, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. Tied her with them thick-ass ropes you got out of her own damn tackle shed.” Rodney whooped and slapped his thigh.

The sound sickened Travis, and so did the sight of them as they came closer. They stopped right in front of the bush, their boot fronts wet with dew, same as the hems of their jeans.

“You sure you left him here?” Clark asked, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the ground left to right.

“Yeah, right here.” Rodney frowned and scratched his head. “Well, I’ll be damned if he didn’t get up and walk away.”

“Shit! Fucking shit!” Clark stomped one foot.

“Hey, boss. Doesn’t matter. Deputy’ll have him. Stephen will see to that. Suits us, right?” Rodney gave Clark a hopeful look.

“No, it doesn’t. I wanted him free for what I have in mind for Sarah. I need Travis being on the loose to prove that when he’s got a mind he goes off killing women. And I wanted to give the fucker a beating first, humiliating me at Macy Jo’s like that.” Clark smoothed his hands over his face, as though the action would keep him calm.

Rodney’s face took on a dreamy look. “Fine piece of ass Macy was, too.”

“Yeah.” Clark stared into the distance, fiddling with his fly. “She fitted around my cock just right, tasted well and good last night, too. Shame she had to go really—I wouldn’t have minded a revisit. I love a woman who struggles. Made out she didn’t want my dick, but she wanted it all right. They all do.”

Travis bared his teeth. Clark clearly had no remorse for taking a mother away from her children, a wife from her husband, a good woman and friend from a community. All she was to him was a means to an end, someone to be discarded once she’d served her purpose. What a waste of a life.

“You hate Travis that much?” Rodney sounded genuinely confused.

You and me both, asshole.

“Yeah, bastard has the woman I want, the job I want. You know why it was so easy for you to take her this morning, don’t you?”

Rodney shook his head. “Nope. I just reckoned the men were out buying horses—she’d been saying she was gonna get some more.”

“She does the buying herself, doesn’t trust the likes of us. No, she fired the damn lot of them. Came right out and told them all that Travis had fucked her and left her, then told them to leave. Big buzz about it in town. But then you won’t have heard about it, being with Sarah and all. Being as dim as you are. I tell you, God helps those who help themselves, and he knew I was about to help myself to her tasty little cunt, so he made the way a bit easier.” Clark laughed, and it sounded broken, raspy and phlegm-filled.

He hawked and spat—the man’s infuriating habit churning Travis’ gut. The mucus landed on the grass beside Clark’s boot.

Travis panted, short, quick breaths. He was getting angrier by the goddamn second. He wanted to run, to get Sarah from wherever the hell she was, and then sort Clark out once and for all.

“So,” Clark said, more sombre now. “We have a slight change of plan. Travis has gone. Might have fucked off out of town or might stay around to cause us a bit of shit. Either way, we need to get back to that bitch. She’s got some cock to suck, farcults or no farcults. Jesus, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.”

“Can I watch this time, boss?”

“No, you fucking can’t!”

Rodney sighed. “Well, then. Let’s just check a bit further along first. It was dark when I clocked him one. I might have got the location wrong.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.”

Their boots moved, went out of sight. Travis counted to thirty before slinking out of the bushes and running full tilt the way Clark and Rodney had come. Their scent still lingered, and, despite him feeling a little groggy from the after effects of whatever the hell they’d given him, he reckoned he’d be able to pick their smell up until it led him to where Sarah was.

Anger fuelled his speed. What right did they have to take her like that? And did Clark have plans to dispose of her the same way he had with Macy Jo once he’d finished with her?

Fucking asshole.

Their scent faded a little but was definitely still there, a faint wisp of their usual aromas spiced with whatever they’d bathed with. He lost track for a second and stopped abruptly, lifting his nose to the sky. There—straight ahead. Travis ran again, heading for his own home.

What the hell? They’ve damn well taken her to my place so there’s no disputing it’s me who took her?

He didn’t question his instincts, just kept going, the men’s scents fading more now, overridden by Sarah’s—and the unmistakeable tang of fear. Hers or his own, he didn’t know. He leapt over the fence separating Sarah’s land from that which his cottage stood on and pounded towards the small dwelling. He smelt her around him and came to a halt, eyeing his surroundings then his home. There were no signs of a break-in—his dark oak front door was closed tight, his white sash window frames unmarred by a tyre iron or whatever the fuck people broke in with these days. He padded around back—no evidence of foul play there, either.

Confused, he cocked his head and listened hard, staring at the large barn that housed his truck.

The barn!

He ran then, right for it at immense speed, and reached the double, slatted wood doors in record time. They were locked—a shiny new chain had been wound around the crescent-shaped silver handles and a polished brass padlock held it in place. He pressed his nose to a slight gap between two slats and breathed deep. Sarah’s scent filled his nose, strong, so heavenly, and it was
her
fear he’d detected. He scooted around so he could peer through the slats with one eye, conscious that Clark and Rodney might be back all too soon, although he’d bet they’d be a while as neither of them could run like a damn wolf. Still, he’d better be cautious. Who knew if they had some other sick bastard in on their plan?

With that thought, he sniffed again. No, he only scented Sarah and the faint residue of Rodney.

The barn was dark inside, only shadowy shapes visible, no vibrant red truck or his shiny tools or work bench in perfect sight. His gaze darted from shape to shape, and he noted nothing out of the ordinary. Yet Sarah was inside, he’d bet his life on it. He reared back and made his way to the window. It was dusty, but maybe he’d get a better view there. Up on his hind legs, front paws resting on the rough, splinter-infested ledge, he stared through. Nope, no better view at all.

Fuck!

He circled the barn, spotting a loose slat around back, slanted in a drunken way. Pushing against it with his rump, he was pleased to hear it snap from his weight, giving him enough room to squeeze inside. He blinked to become accustomed to the change in light, and after a few seconds made out his truck radiator in front of him, the headlights staring out as though they belonged to a monster who watched him with dulled eyes.

He opened his mouth to call her name, forgetting for a second that he was a wolf, cursing himself for not shifting when he’d got here so he could have gone into his cottage as a man to get something he could smack the barn door with. He’d been too intent on getting inside—getting to Sarah.

A whimper left his mouth in place of her name, and Sarah answered with one of her own. He homed in on where her voice had come from and walked down the side of his truck, nose to the air, ears tuned for the slightest of sounds.

One came, a whisper of movement from the flatbed of his truck, and then another muffled whimper. The son of a bitch had tied her up in there? Quickly, he jumped into the back, landing as close to the tailgate as he could. He strained his eyes in the darkness, his sight no more use than it was when he was in human form—damn those drugs—but he saw her shape. She was huddled with her back against the cab, and he could just make out her bent legs and the coils of rope around her middle, pinning her arms to her sides.

Oh, my beautiful Sarah. What has he done to you?

He lunged forward, intent on being close to her, comforting her.

She screamed—screamed loud and long, the sound ear-splitting. He howled with her, nudging her face with his muzzle. She wriggled to get away, her scream inaudible now, even though her mouth was stretched wide, a black hole in the gloom.

It’s all right, I’m here now.

She bucked, jerked, unfurled her legs and kicked out. Her foot caught his hind paws, and he lost his balance, smacking on to the truck bed and landing on his left flank. He scrabbled to stand, to go to her again, watching her as that black hole in her face disappeared and her teeth, a faint row of light grey, took its place.

“Get. The fuck. Away from me,” she said, voice stern but with a slight tremor. “I’ve been taken out of my goddamn house, tied up, touched up, and now I’m meant to cope with a fucking
wolf?
Jesus Christ, God, give me a fucking break, will you?”

Travis swallowed, took a few steps backward. There was nothing for it but to reveal to her who he really was. If he had any chance of saving her, he’d have to do it as a man. They had little time to play with, and once he had her safely in his cottage he could get some clothes on and call the deputy so she could report her abduction.

He took a deep breath through his nostrils and closed his eyes. As he shifted, he thought,
Please don’t let her freak. Please let her understand. Let her still want me.

As his paws became hands and feet, the grit from the flatbed digging into his skin, his knees, he swallowed again and opened his eyes. Sarah stared back at him, and he didn’t need light to know she looked at him with horror. Jesus Christ, he’d had no choice but to shift. She needed getting out of here. Whatever she felt for him now didn’t matter, so long as she was safe.

But it
did
matter, and he’d lick his wounds later, when all this shit was cleared up and life had returned to normal.

“Travis?” she whispered. “
Travis?
”

“Yes, honey, it’s me.”

In true Sarah French form, and despite her always seeing things in black and white, with no room for even considering the fact that shifters existed, she shouted, “Where the
fuck
have you been?”

Chapter Twelve

Sarah couldn’t believe what had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours. She’d lost her virginity, fallen in love, been abandoned then kidnapped from her own home. Been touched in places by hands she never wanted to remember. Then a wolf—a very pretty grey wolf but a wolf nonetheless—had been sniffing around her, and a naked Travis had appeared. Travis Williams, the man who’d taken her body and stolen her heart, was a goddamn wolf?

Don’t digress, Sarah, think, think.

Travis Williams was a fucking wolf! She’d slept with a wolf—no, not a wolf but a man who could turn into one. What would have happened if she hadn’t been on the pill and had got pregnant? Would she have given birth to a litter of baby wolves?

Okay, what the hell am I thinking?

In order to get out of this mess she’d need all of her brain cells concentrating on getting her away from here.

“I said, where the fuck have you been?” Out of everything she could have asked and said, she’d decided to shout that at him.
Typical, you’ll be lucky if the guy sticks around now he’s back.

“Are you all right?” he whispered.

Did she fucking look all right? This day was getting crazier by the minute. She wanted to get the hell away from here, shoot Rodney through his thick head and cut off Clark’s balls and feed them to him. How dare they take her from her own house! Lying, conniving bastards.

“I need you to be quiet and stop moving,” Travis said.

What?

“I’m still tied, Travis. Do you seriously think I can make any more noise or move much beyond this crappy little space?”

“You’re yelling, sweetheart, and they may come back.”

Sarah could tell he was nervous, but what was he nervous about? Clark and Rodney were as thick as two barn doors. There was no way those two could do any serious damage, was there?

“Stop fretting,” she snapped. “My God, Clark and Rodney have probably gone to Macy Jo’s for an early drink and forgot about me. Now just get the knot, please. I can’t feel parts of my body and I seriously need to pee.”

He found the knot and started to undo it but stopped suddenly and looked at her. Despite the gloom, she could see the concern on his face.

“Shh! Someone’s coming. I have to hide. But you’ll be okay, I’ll see to that. Trust me.”

He jumped off the truck bed and went out of sight.

“Travis?” she whispered.

Seconds later, after a jangling of chains, Clark walked into the barn. Whose barn was she in anyway?

“Ah, my sleeping beauty is awake.”

Shit, maybe she should have faked sleeping?

“What game are you playing, Clark? This one is not funny.” Sarah kept her attention on him. She didn’t want to alert him to Travis. Even if the guy could turn into a wolf, she didn’t want anything bad to happen to him.

“I’m not playing at nothing much—yet. I’m just looking for Travis. Have you seen him?”

He came closer, climbed into the truck bed, and Sarah resisted the urge to shuffle back closer to the cab. The creep had some body odour issues along with his rank aftershave and she wasn’t in the mood to play nice. He had her tied up and wasn’t doing a thing about letting her go.

That pissed her off.

“Why would I have seen Travis? I slept with him last night, but this morning he was gone. What more do you want me to say?”