Jett parked six blocks from the warehouse, and changed his clothes in the car. Twenty minutes. He’d give himself twenty minutes—half an hour, tops—to get a drink and step out of the hell his night had been. Then he’d pull his shit together again. Then he’d leave.
That fucking case. The dead girl and Asher running off into the wind had Jett ready to do his own disappearing act. He needed a release. The responsible thing to do after the night he’d had would be to go home and shower or catch up on paperwork. Get some sleep. Go for a run to blow off steam. This though, this got him out of his head better than any moonlight run.
One secret he couldn’t tell anyone, not even his brother. Especially not his brother.
For all the hassling he gave Ash about his personal life, Jett could judge himself far worse. They’d busted one of these underground human-were meat markets a year prior. Jett, in his curiosity, had gone looking for more.
He turned off his phone so he could claim ignorance if any calls came. Not that he ever stayed long, and he sure as hell never played. Watching probably scored as high as participating on the sin-o-meter, but it was the way he liked to rationalize. He wasn’t that bad.
He wasn’t like them.
The guard at the door didn’t smell like were, but the big fucker sure did carry himself like one. “Password?”
“Entre.” Stupidest password ever. Might as well have everyone say “Open sesame.”
When the guard held out his hand, Jett slapped down his ID and a fifty. Jesus. Fifty bucks to stand around for half an hour and watch some naked fucking around between humans and wolves. Broken down by unit price, porn would be cheaper.
Once inside, a tarted-up door girl wearing nothing but heels and black thigh-highs offered politely to take his clothing. Offered, as if keeping them was an option. These places used their “private club” status to get away with a great deal. Rules got bent. They got broken right the hell in two.
Jett kept hoping he wouldn’t be around if that happened. If? When.
He ordered a double amaretto on the rocks from the bar. Something to drink so he wouldn’t look like a total asshole, but he’d be fine to drive in a short while when he tucked-tail and disappeared into the night.
A tall man with sandy hair appeared at his elbow. “You move fast. I wanted to buy you a drink, but you beat me to the punch.”
“Another time.” Jett smiled, knowing he spoke a lie. Not for the first time, he wished he didn’t have a rule against hooking up at these parties. Rules were a must. Heaven forbid another raid busted everybody’s fun. He couldn’t afford to have his dick buried in some unsuspecting human while the building owner did lines of coke off a prostitute in the back room. For example.
The man trailed a finger over the faded pack markings on Jett’s forearm. “My wife over there finds you extremely attractive. I’d love to see you two together.”
The hairs on Jett’s neck and shoulders stood up as interest mixed with annoyance at being touched without permission. He looked over to a post in the center of the room where a dark-haired woman posed against it, one hand in her hair, the other holding a mixed drink. She had creamy skin and lush curves, and even though he had no interest in females, he had to appreciate her beauty.
The idea of a man fetishizing his wife with a were, however? Plain old icky. There was also Jett’s no fucking rule. “Sorry,” he said. “I don’t do couples. I’m a one-man kind of wolf.”
Or none, since bonding among his kind meant something much different than it did among humans. Jett was alpha of the blow and go. Quick and impersonal.
Lovemaking? Relationships? He wouldn’t know how.
The sandy-haired, wife-pimping man tipped his head. “Understood.” He leaned to the side, ostensibly to bump shoulders, but managed to bump other parts as well. “Let me know if you change your mind about that drink.”
Jett grinned as the man sauntered back to his wife. Human behavior could be so interesting. Sometimes he didn’t think they could be all that different. Sometimes, he felt a million miles from their kind.
“Oh my God!”
Jett’s fingers tensed at the shout. Shit, he had no gun. No clothes.
He also had nothing to worry about. At the far end of the warehouse, a young, female shifter with golden hair writhed on a table. A human woman, dressed in shiny red heels, wrapped an intricate network of rope around the young were’s body.
Jett sucked in a breath. Fascinating. He’d heard of this sort of thing, but hadn’t seen it in action.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. They weren’t fucking. Hell, the two hardly even touched. The sight held him captivated all the same—a were submitting to a human, so turned on by the ropes binding her that she heaved and trembled with each breath.
A were submitting to a human. He wanted to look away, but couldn’t.
“Hot as fuck, huh?” A hand brushed Jett’s hip but he didn’t look down.
“If you like that sort of thing.”
“You must. You’re hard.”
Jett shook his head, still watching the display. “It’s only the fact that they— Hey.” He turned when stray fingers that weren’t his own brushed along his dick.
Oh, fuck a huge-assed duck. In Jett’s distraction, Kyle “Eagle Eye” Roth had entered and sidled up close. The young man pulled his hand away, but maintained a tight enough margin that Jett would brush against him if they breathed wrong. Or... right.
Kyle was one of the tail-chasers from his father’s pack, and now Jett would definitely have to stay away from these after-hours parties. He couldn’t risk running into old pack members here. Shit, that was worse than running into someone from work.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Like everybody else, the man wore no clothes. With nothing for Jett to grip onto except skin, he resisted the urge to reach out and grab hold of the kid’s throat for maximum threat.
Kyle put up his hands. “Hey. Relax. I needed to talk to you.”
“So you thought you’d try and jerk me off?”
“My mistake.” Kyle shrugged, but the corners of his mouth turned up a fraction. Much the way a criminal stifled a smile when telling a lie.
Jett crossed his arms over his chest. His wood had deflated, but the ridiculousness of their conversation lingered. “So what do you need to say to me? How the fuck did you even know I was here?”
Kyle grinned openly. “I saw you before. I was at the party last month.”
Apparently Jett wasn’t the only one with secrets. “I don’t remember seeing you.”
“I was in the mask.”
“The person wearing a mask was—” Jett clenched his jaw in the middle of his holy shit moment.
“The guy getting banged in the center of the room. Yeah.” Kyle tugged his ear, looking red-faced at the floor.
Jett shook his head. “That’s not gonna look good if my father finds out.” So they both had secrets to keep. The fact should have relieved Jett, but inexplicably all he felt was more anger.
“But he’s not going to, is he?” Kyle stared up with sharp eyes. “Now, can we go somewhere to talk? It’s about Asher. He showed up as I was leaving, and I think his ass is in some seriously deep shit.”
***
Sherri opened her eyes to Ash’s handsome face. She smiled, her heart thumping with a pleasant “Hey, how’s it going?” rhythm. She hadn’t thought she’d see him again, and the surprise was a good one until she tried to reach forward and couldn’t.
Because her hands were tied.
The “Hey, how’s it going?” turned to “Oh, shit.” when she realized a) That horrific dream had been no dream and b) Ash was a part of this.
She groaned. “Holy crap, I have the worst taste in men. What the hell were you supposed to be, the bait?”
He slapped a hand over her mouth and glanced over his shoulder. “If you can hang on and let me explain,” he said slowly, “I might get us both out of here alive.” He leaned in, nuzzling his nose against her neck. “Good, you haven’t showered since you were with me.”
What an odd and embarrassing observation. “Of course not. They took me from the damned parking lot. How can you tell?”
“Your scent.” Another glance. He turned back and started on the ropes binding her wrists. “I’m going to untie you, but you have to stay put and do everything I say. Promise?”
“I don’t think—”
Another glance. His eyes took on a wide, wild glow. “I’m sorry to put it this way but if they think you’re my property your life will have more value. Now please promise.”
What in God’s name? “Jeez. Okay. Yes. Now will you explain what’s going on?” One wrist came free. She worked it back and forth to ease the stiffness.
Voices came down the hall.
“What’s your last name?” He freed her other hand.
She rubbed her sore wrists. “What? Walker. Why—”
He silenced her with his mouth. His fingers gripped her arms with bruising strength, and though her first instinct was to shove against him and ask once again what in the name of worst explanation ever was going on here, she relaxed against him instead. Her body remembered this kiss, and he’d asked her to promise. Something in his eyes resonated as genuine.
So she kissed him back. Her heart thudded against his, everything both new and familiar with the added dash of exhilaration and fear. She still wasn’t certain if he had honestly come to help her, but for once in her life she hoped like crazy her gut was pointed in the right direction.
“This is about to get serious. I thought I should know your last name,” he whispered against her lips.
A door creaked open behind them. “I see the reunion is a happy one.”
Ash spun to face the man who’d barged into the dreary sort-of guest room where Sherri had been left to sleep off her sedatives. The man looked very much like Ash, actually. Clearly this one had a couple of decades on him. The other man was also broader and darker-featured but not as tall, with craggy cheeks and a nose that had evidently been broken more than once.
Ash kept a tight hold on her arm. “She was drugged and thrown in a van, Pop. This is unacceptable.”
So it was his father. Sherri cringed on the inside.
She couldn’t tell if the older man’s gesture was dismissive or apologetic. “A regrettable mistake. Jojo couldn’t have known she belonged to you.”
Was this guy a sociopath? “A mistake? Are you kidding me? That’s assault, kidnapping, and—” In spite of her swimming head Sherri leaned forward, ready to dig further in with her list of charges. Ash squeezed her hand fast and hard. The message came through.
“I’m taking her out of here.”
Sherri looked around. “There’s another girl. They took her somewhere else.” There had to be some way to convince them to let them both leave. If not, she would make a call the second she had a phone in her hands.
“The girl had some scrapes. She’s being seen to,” Ash’s father rumbled.
“No. No fucking way.” That Jojo asshole shoved his way in, holding a bag of ice over his eye. “I owe at least two girls when I show up to make the trade. Anyway, he’s fucking lying, Pop. If she’s his bond mate, I’m Mother Theresa.”
Ash swept his hand toward Sherri. “He’s talking out his ass. My scent is all over her. See for yourself.”
“Only cuz they hooked up at the hotel bar last night. I saw ‘em. Ain’t no way they’re bonded. Fucker gets more tail than a taxidermist.”
“You.” Ash jabbed a finger. “You saw her with me and thought you’d get even, huh? Fuck with me to get back for showing you up in public? This is so far over the goddamned line you have no idea. You got no right to make accusations, Jojo. Should we talk about the girl you mauled and left dead on my land?”
Sherri tried to back away, but there was no place to go. She’d feared that girl didn’t make it, but oh, God. Mauled? So much worse than her imagination.
Jojo pointed back. “That wasn’t me. He’s lying, Ramon.”
“Enough,” Ash’s father boomed and puffed his chest even more than it was already puffed. He stepped forward with his fingers interlaced, tapping the two pointers against his chin.
He turned first to the “Jojo” character, still holding ice on his blackened eye. Funny, she’d always considered herself an independent woman, but knowing that Ash had given the rat-bastard a shiner, and he’d done it in her defense, actually gave her a sense of appreciation.
Ramon eyeballed Jojo. “What’s this about a dead girl?”
Jojo backed up against a pegboard wall. “It wasn’t me. The go-between. When I met him at the rendezvous, the girl tried to escape. He did shit I ain’t never seen before.”
Ash growled though clenched teeth. The clear threat in that sound made Sherri jump even though it wasn’t aimed at her. “Are you hearing this fucker? We had an agreement that you would stay out of my business, and I’d stay out of yours. This asshole is grabbing women at my restaurant. Using my land to do his dirty work. I’m a fucking murder suspect!”
Ramon nodded. “Once we finish the trade, he’ll be handled.”
Ash stood. “You can’t— No. You gotta call it off, Pop.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t an option. We’re dealing with a powerful man with whom we can’t afford to tangle. The pack needs the grease with law enforcement connections. We also need the money.”
Not an option? Law enforcement connections?
Sherri looked back and forth, from Ash who was about to foam at the mouth, to his father who appeared to be coolly commenting on a golf game. So she was supposed to be some kind of gang bargaining chip? “Oh hell no. No damn way. I’m not your fucking pawn.” She shoved against Ash’s shoulder.
His father turned a sharp set of eyes her way. “Asher, control your female.”
Control his female? These guys were too much. “Excuse me—”
Ash’s arm went across her front. “Pop. She’s not going. Even for you, trading humans is a despicable business. This is Jojo’s mess. He needs to clean it up.”
His father stalked forward. Ignoring Ash’s growls, he took hold of Sherri’s right hand and then the left, studying each one carefully. He then tugged her hair aside to expose her neck, checking each side and eliciting an irritated “ow” from Sherri. “She doesn’t wear your mark,” Daddy Lobo growled. “No bite, no ink.”
“Pop.” Asher thrust out his arms. “When did I last set foot on this property? A decade ago? I’ll get around to covering the pack ink someday.” He snaked a hand around her waist, pulling her close. “The markings don’t matter. Sherri belongs to me, and I only need to know it in my heart.”
For a line of bullshit, damned if it didn’t sound pretty fabulous. Some reflex reaction to his arm around hers and the fierce declaration of emotion made Sherri squeeze back. Hell, maybe she just needed someone to grab onto. Lord knew she hadn’t had anybody like that in her life. This was a stressful moment. She wouldn’t pass up having someone to squeeze.
If a dubiously trustworthy werewolf with whom you had two hot, sexy nights is now the guy you’re latching onto, you’re wandering into desperate territory, Sherri.
Well, she was out in the desert, after all.
“No human symbol either. Neither of you wear rings. No proof she’s your mate.”
This time Ash seemed to hesitate, so Sherri spoke up. “You know, that was my request. I was engaged before, and it ended badly. I felt gun-shy, and I wanted to wait.” She hugged her arm tighter around Ash’s body. “But Ash is special to me. I’ve never known anyone like him. What we have is meaningful.” Well that was all true in a certain kind of way.
Ash’s hand smoothed over her arm. She couldn’t know for sure, but it seemed he meant to offer assurance. She wished she knew he actually had any to give.
After a minute of silence, Ash’s father “hmph’ed.” “You two will go with Jojo to the handoff. Ash, find a way to negotiate an alternate deal. If everything goes through successfully, you’ll be allowed to leave unharmed, and there will be no more interference with your mate, your employees, or your land.”
Ash patted Sherri’s hand. “Thanks, Pop.”
Jojo pushed forward. “What about the deal I already promised?”
Ash’s charismatic grin turned sinister. “That’s not really my problem, is it?”
Ramon turned to go. “You two will stay until sundown. Non-negotiable.” He stopped at the door. “And since you and your mate haven’t had time, we will do the ceremony here this afternoon. I’ll leave you to rest first.”
Negotiate? Ceremony? Oh. Shit. None of that sounded good.