The Alpha Men's Secret Club 4: Intrigue: A Shockingly Hot BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance (4 page)

8

 

When Kate made the call to the administration office on Monday morning, they were none too pleased.

“Where are you exactly, Ms. Penney?” said Ms. Buckley in a sharp voice.

Ms. Buckley was
in charge of student administration and term credits, among other things. Kate read her as a quick-witted woman who was as impatient as she was razor-tongued. Kate had always been a little afraid of her.

“I’m in New York,” Kate said in a small voice.

“I know that. Are you with Rust O’Brien, Kate?”

Kate looked around the empty Four Seasons suite. Rust had left.
He had made good on his word and left her all alone in that hotel suite. For her own safety, he claimed.

“No,” she said.

“But you went there to be with him, and now you’re caught up in something bigger than either of you can handle. Teddy Mitchell’s death is all over the news. The papers made mention of a recently disgraced Professor who has been hauled up for questioning.
You
have been questioned by the police too, and they want to question your further.”

“It’s just that I happened to be there at the party,” Kate squeaked. “They’re probably questioning all the guests.”

“What does this tell you, Kate?”

Kate kept silent. No, she really didn’t know the answer to that. That she shouldn’t go to shifter parties thrown by billionaires? Or that she shouldn’t
take part in raves?

Ms. Buckley went on, “
You messed up, Kate. You got involved with someone who was messed up, and now he’s getting you into all sorts of trouble a young woman like yourself shouldn’t be getting into. I hope, for the sake of your future and your parents that the NYPD lets you go soon.”

“I’m not detained,” Kate protested.

“If you keep on like this, it’s only a matter of time. When this is over, come back to college and leave that man behind. If you don’t, he will be the cause of your downfall. Mark my words.”

Kate knew that what Ms. Buckley was saying was true
, as much as she didn’t want to believe it.

But she loved Rust so much!
She couldn’t live without him. Even now when he was away from her, she felt the ache of their separation as keenly as an organ had been cut from her. So he had dumped her. So he had told her it was all over between them. Over something as basic as self-control!

She put down the phone. She didn’t believe
for one instant that Rust would ever hurt her. Not physically. Not intentionally.

The hotel phone rang, making her jump.

Rust!

She quickly
picked it up.

“Rust?”

“Ms. Penney?” It was a woman’s voice. “I’m Detective Geraldine Brickford. I’m downstairs at the hotel lobby. May I come up?”

 

*

 

“What’s this about?” Kate said nervously as she let Geraldine Brickford into her suite. Geraldine was accompanied by a young man who carried a black briefcase.

“This is my associate, Daryl Hastings. We need to take a swab from your inner cheek, Ms. Penney.”

“What for?” Kate knew enough from TV that inner cheek swabs were usually for DNA.

“We need a DNA sample, and a buccal . . . or inner cheek . . . smear would do the trick,” said Daryl Hastings.

“Have you found something at the crime scene?”

Geraldine and her associate exchanged glances.

“Yes,” Geraldine said. “But we can’t give you that information right now.”

Kate had no choice but to sit down, open her mouth like a good little girl and let Daryl take a tissue swab of her inner cheek. The whole thing was swift and relatively painless.

“Thank you,” Geraldine said. “We will be in touch. Don’t leave town.”

“What about Rust?” Kate said, rising from the couch in the living area.

“We have taken his DNA too.” Geraldine smiled brightly. “We will be in touch . . . shortly.”

9

 

Rust stared out of the window of his parents’ house.
It was ironic that he was staying here – back with them – when they hadn’t even gotten along for years. But they were the only ones he could trust himself to be with. If he broke out in any way, they would know how to handle him.

He found himself thinking of Kate again for the seven hundredth time since he left her. He couldn’t help himself. He was
obsessed
with her. When she was not in sight, he found himself thinking of her smell, her taste, her touch, the sweet texture of her lips upon his.

He g
roaned. Was this the man or the beast which was making him feel this way? He couldn’t tell which was which anymore.

He heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t turn. He knew who it was.

Connor stood at the doorway of Rust’s old bedroom.

“You know what you have to do, son,” he said.

“Yes.” If only it wasn’t so painful. He didn’t mind physical pain. It was . . . the other.

“Are you ready for it?” his father said.

Rust pulled in a deep breath. “Yes. But do you think we should wait till . . . after?”

“I don’t know if you killed him, son.
I won’t lie to you. It’s possible that you did and you left some clue with your DNA at the crime scene.”

“Our DNA
changes when we shift.”

“Most of it remains intact. There are very few differences between human DNA an
d animal DNA, as you well know.”

“But still – ” Rust was
adamant. “They wouldn’t be able to identify it was me.”

“I think they found more than animal DNA, Rust.” His father’s eyes met his. “That’s why they took the swab from you.”

With a sinking feeling, Rust knew it was true.

Connor said, “
I don’t know how long the DNA analysis will take. I don’t know if you’ll be arrested tomorrow or the day after. But if you don’t do this, the seed will grow inside you. It has already taken root and it will take over you – just as it has taken over your great-grandfather and your Uncle Sam.”

“But what if I
forget?” It was the thing he had been dreading. What if I forget . . .
her
?

“That’s the risk you’ll have to take,” Connor said. “You’ve already left her behind. No
w it’s the only thing left you have left to do.”

10

 

Here she was with New York at her feet. She should be thrilled. She had an expense account – not unlimited, but still considerable –
to shop and dine in style as she pleased. She could go to Broadway shows and museums and art galleries. She should be living it up before it all went away.

But all Kate could do was
to stare out of her window.

It had been three days. Three whole days since she had last seen Rust.

It was getting unbearable.

Didn’t he know that he was like a drug to her?
Didn’t he know that she couldn’t live – couldn’t
breathe
– without him? Here she was, restlessly pacing up and down her suite. She wasn’t even eating anymore. Not properly. She only sometimes remembered to drink. She hadn’t washed her hair in three days. She couldn’t remember the last time she had a bath.

She didn’t even blink properly anymore.

Was this depression?

She couldn’t even cry. She had no tears to cry. She suspected she was dehydrated, but she was too listless to get up and do something about it.
She wouldn’t even let the maid come in to clean.

When the hotel phone rang, she jumped.
Rust!
she immediately thought.
He has come for me!

Hope gave her strength to leap for the phone.

The voice on the other end was not Rust, however, but someone who gave her a huge surge of elation.

Incredulously, she said, “Michaela?”

“I’m down here, girl. When are you gonna invite me up?”

 

*

 

When Michaela swept into the room, Kate fell into her arms. She felt truly alive in days, and if she didn’t have tears before, they now crept into her eyes and ran freely down her cheeks.

“Hey, girl,” Michaela was filled with concern, “I was so worried about you. You never returned my calls and your phone ke
pt going to Voice Mail.”

Oh . . . she had let her cellphone battery die and she didn’t charge it.

Michaela held her at arm’s length and took a good look at her.

“Girl, you look awful,” she declared.
“You smell awful. I’m going to order enough food for ten people . . . just for the two of us . . . and I’m going to run you a hot bath. Then you can tell me everything.”

“How did you get here?” Kate said.

“I flew. It’s kind of difficult to drive cross country when you don’t have a car.”

“No . . . I mean, don’t you have classes or something?”

“I do, but I skipped them.” Michaela winked. “No one will even know I’m not there.”

“Of course they will.”

Michaela rolled her eyes. “Yeah, rub it in, girl. It’s because I take up half the room.”

“Where did you find the money for your air ticket?”

“Why the third degree? Aren’t you glad to see me? Don’t badger me with all the questions about myself, OK? Let’s worry about you.” Michaela grabbed her small battered suitcase and barged to the lounge. “Whooo. Swanky. Where’s the room service menu?”

 

*

 

Kate told Michaela everything, of course – the parts which hadn’t been picked up by the press – except about the shifters. Michaela listened like the best friend she always was. Around them was a mountain of half-eaten food. Honestly, Kate hadn’t realized she was so hungry until she tasted the fried chicken, the scallops in lime sauce, the goose liver pate, the beef goulash and the creamed spinach, all washed down with sparkling mineral water.

Now she felt absolutely bloated.

At the end of it, Michaela declared, “Well, there’s no use moping about it like a sick puppy. We’ve got to do something about it.”

“But what? He doesn’t want to see me or have anything to do with me. He
won’t even take my calls.”

Michaela bored her large brown eyes into Kate’s. “Do you love him?”

“More than anything.”

Michaela clenched her hammy fist in a gesture of resolve. “Then let’s go find him.”

 

*

 

Finding Rust O’Brien was easy enough, Kate thought. It was whether or not he wanted to see her.

She dialed Hector’s number with Michaela next to her, listening in to every word on the speaker. Hector picked up at first ring.

“Ms. Penney! I was beginning to be worried about you. Are you all right? Do you need anything?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do, Hector, if you would be so kind. I want to see Rust.” She paused. “It’s very important. It’s something about the case.”

There was silence at the other end. At first, Kate thought the line had been cut off.

“Hello? Hector?”

“I’m still here, Ms. Penney.
I’m afraid you can’t talk to Rust.”

“Why not? I know he doesn’t want to see me, but it’s important,” Kate said with more bravado than she felt. Hell, with Michaela at her side, she did feel a lot braver.

Michaela nodded her approval.

“I’m afraid I have rather alarming news, Ms. Penney,” Hector said.
“Rust has been admitted to Bellevue Hospital.” He paused significantly. “As a patient.”

11

 

Rust
lay down on the bed, feeling apprehensive. He eyed the electrodes placed on the tray beside him. He was no stranger to ECT or Electroconvulsive Therapy, but always as a consulting psychiatrist. Before.

“Are you all right?” Connor asked.

“I’m fine.”

There was an I.V. line in Rust’s forearm. He had been prepped with a muscle relaxant, but not that contrivance of
modern ECT: general anesthesia. ECT had long been a therapy feared and misunderstood, thanks to unnerving portrayals in popular literature, but not many outside the medical community knew of the innumerable patients it had helped.

His ankle was surrounded by a blood pressure cuff. This was to prevent the muscle relaxant from entering his foot and paralyzing the muscles there. His father needed to be able to watch for seizure activity in that foot.

“Open your mouth,” Connor said.

Rust obeyed, and his father slipped in a mouth guard to prevent him from biting his tongue. They were going to do this without general anesthesia, because
GA dulled his bestial senses and made the ECT less effective on a shifter like himself.

This was going to hurt.

But he was fine with hurting. Just as long as it made him better. For a while anyway. Eventually, he would get worse again, just like his great-grandfather and his uncle. And eventually, they might have to put him down before he endangered them all.

No, he was doing the right thing.
He was staying away from Kate and buying himself respite. If this thing actually worked on him, that was.

Connor fastened the metal electrodes on either side of his temple. Each was the size of a silver dollar. The electrodes were connected to a machine with displays.

“Are you ready?” said Connor.

Yes.

No.

Rust nodded.

Connor flipped a switch, and everything in Rust’s world exploded.

Other books

Floating Ink by James Livingood
Telling Tales by Melissa Katsoulis
We Are the Ants by Shaun David Hutchinson
Do Not Go Gentle by James W. Jorgensen
Honeymoon Hazards by Ben Boswell
On A Wicked Dawn by Stephanie Laurens