Run Fur Love (BBW Tiger Shifter Romance) Read online

  “What was the job?”

  “I’ve done stuff for Jake before, Morgan too. You know, odd jobs. Construction stuff, site cleanup. Dirty work they paid me for in cash.”

  Harley thought about Jericho, and the shadowy world he lived in, and wondered if Duke and Jericho would have crossed paths at some point in the not too distant future.

  “Jake had something he wanted me to deliver, a package. But I didn’t ask what it was.” He looked up at Harley, and she saw in his eyes, the desire of a man to be fooled by his own desires or needs, or just plain old desperation. Because anyone and everyone who knew Jake Ramsey, knew if he asked you to deliver something for him, it meant trouble.

  “He wanted you to make a drop for him. Wanted you to deliver drugs.” That was Jericho, putting it into focus, in plain simple words.

  “Yeah. He did.” Duke looked at the ground. “But I never got the package, it never got that far. Jake showed up the night we were supposed to, you know, the night he was going to give me the package. But he was high, flying on something. Talking crazy and fast, loud, waving his arms. Harley, the veins were standing out on his neck. I thought he was going to have a heart attack, right there on my porch. Thought I’d follow right after him, from the shock of seeing him like that.”

  He sat down suddenly, on the ground at the foot of the steps, like all the air had gone out of him. “I got in his truck with him, even though that was the last place I wanted to be. He drove off toward the backside of Table Mountain, toward New Fane. Said he had the package, would give it to me, and then I could deliver it to the place...” He waved his hand, like he was shooing away flies.

  “None of that made any sense. All I can think is he didn’t want to be seen in the same place with the drugs for some reason, or be seen by the people buying the drugs. But by then, I was out there in the middle of the night with him, driving across fields on roads that were less road, and more just a wide foot path. And I swear, all I wanted was for him not to crash the truck. Finally, he stopped, cut the engine, and we got out near this shed.”

  “The moon was up, you know, so it was real bright. Jake was still talking nonsense, and by now he was starting to breathe funny. Harsh, like he was breathing underwater. I wanted to get him back in the truck, take him to a hospital. Or...” He wiped a shaky hand across his face. “I even thought about just getting into his truck, and leaving him there.”

  Jericho looked over his shoulder at Harley. From the slant of his eyebrows, she knew he was asking her if she believed Duke. She nodded, just enough to let him know she did.

  “Go on. What happened next?”

  Duke took a breath, then blew out a long sigh. “Finally, he said fuck the customer, they wouldn’t miss an ounce or so of the stuff. He said I should test the product to see if it was any good. Because he said he knew it was, top of the line shit, best he’d ever had. Told me it would make me fly. I told him no, I was done with that life, that I had it good with where I was. But if he wanted to...” He shrugged. “I didn’t want him to do any either, because I was pretty sure if he got behind the wheel again, we’d both be dead.”

  A breeze rustled the leaves overhead, a few of them falling on the ground around them. The air was clean here, crisp after the rain from the night before. The sun had moved around to the west, beginning to set. She’d lost all track of time, wasn’t wearing her watch—another thing lost to the fire. A wave of nausea washed over her, then her stomach rumbled, and she realized belatedly she was very hungry. But food could wait.

  “So Jake went inside, and then came back with this package wrapped in plastic, hidden in a broken down shed on an abandoned farm, way out past New Fane. One of the little plastic baggies inside was already open. I’m not sure what it was, not anything I’d ever seen before. But it was dark, and I had the flashlight. But my hand… it was shaking, and the light was flickering all over the damn place.” The smile he gave her was rueful.

  “Anyway, he grabbed the plastic bag, dumped some on the back of his hand, and snorted it, right in front of me.” He closed his eyes, his face going white.

  “Then he...went rigid, I guess. He dropped the package, and the stuff from the open plastic bag got blown around by the wind, but I didn’t say anything. He closed his eyes, and Harley, I swear on our mother’s grave, I thought he was going to fall down dead right there. But then he attacked me.” He shook his head, a look of confusion crossing his face.

  “It wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen. I thought he was trying to shift, but…” He shrugged in a helpless kind of way. For the first time since he started telling the story, he looked at Jericho, shifter to shifter. She saw Jericho’s head move in a silent reply. For a second, she was out of the loop, could never know what it was they shared, being able to shift. Or what it was like when it didn’t work, and their beast refused to obey.

  “It was as though he had no control of his animal at all. He started yelling at me, crazy stuff again, about how I was trying to steal his drugs, his money.”

  Harley had been sitting quiet all this time, waiting, impatient to hear what Jericho had to say. She was pretty sure where this story was headed, what happened next. Duke glanced up at her and nodded, as if he read her mind, as if he was telling her she was right.

  “He attacked me, and as much as I wanted to pull out my knife, and stab him, I just let him hit me.” He rubbed his jaw, wincing in remembered pain. “He laughed at me. It took all my willpower to hold back, not to hit him. His next swing went wild, and he lost his balance, fell down.” Duke swallowed hard, his voice going low and thin. “He fell backward, and I heard…he hit his head on a rock. Then he didn’t get up.” Duke swallowed again, then ran his hand through his hair.

  “Morgan found him out there, knew where his brother hid things, I guess. I was long gone by then. But there were all those drugs, and enough people knowing where Jake had gone, and with who, because he couldn't keep his damned mouth shut. And from what I heard through the grapevine, Morgan put two and two together, and came up with me giving his brother bad drugs, and being the cause of his brother’s death. I didn’t kill him, but in a twisted way, I was the cause of his death. You get what I mean?”

  Duke looked so miserable sitting on the ground in the dirt, that she wanted to go hug him, but she knew he’d be embarrassed, and so she didn’t. She sat on her hands, and tried to sort through the tangled threads of his story.

  “So you never told Morgan what happened?”

  The laugh Duke snorted out, was somewhere just this side of madness. “How in the hell could I have done that? I went home, and I waited. Didn’t sleep all night long, listening for the sound of them coming to get me. In the morning, I couldn’t stand it anymore.” His voice cracked, and she thought he was going to cry.

  “I had the money from Jake, but I wanted to throw it away, burn it.” He shrugged, then flashed her a smile that was almost startling in honesty. “Didn’t do that, of course. Then I came up here. Not that many people know about this place, besides you, Harley, although there seems to be a whole lot of traffic around here today.”

  With one last look between her and Jericho, he finished his version of the story. “That’s the truth, from start to finish. I’ve told you everything. It’s the first time I’ve laid it all out really, even to myself.” The effort left him drained, his face drawn and pale, in the setting sun.

  Harley thought about men who told the truth, but told it out of order, or left out parts. Why in hell did men think women wanted to hear the truth that way, cut and pasted together to tell a different version of the truth? She knew Duke—and Jericho, for that matter—were good men, under all that bullshit of manipulating the truth. But they really didn’t understand women at all. Well, Duke wasn’t her problem, really. But it might be that Jericho was, if she’d decided there was a future with him, after this mess was done and gone.

  “Truth. That word’s been tossed around a lot today.” That was Jericho again, but he had his back to her whe
n he said it, and didn’t look back.

  Duke tensed a little, at Jericho’s words. The two men stood there, side by side, in the slanting golden sun.

  “Morgan’s man, was he here when you got here? What happened?”

  Duke was busy tearing a leaf in his hand, shredding it into dust. “I was inside, looking for something to cover the bike with, and he came busting in the door. Sure as hell took me by surprise. And I’m embarrassed to say that. I thought I was better at taking care of myself. Seems I might not be so good at that, after all.”

  Duke raised his head, looking up at Harley. “So why are you here? What made you come looking for my sorry hide?”

  “Morgan burned down the bar.”

  The words sounded so out of place, so hard and cold, like ice falling from the sky here in this peaceful clearing. Everything that had happened this morning was so distant, seemed so far away, like a bad dream that was already fading. But she was wearing filthy clothes, with Jericho sitting a few feet away. He’d been hired to kill her, because of what had happened between Duke, and Jake. It was no dream. Nightmare, maybe, but no dream.

  “Harley, I’m sorry.” Duke looked stricken, and for a guilty minute she was glad. But that instant of taking some kind of perverse sense of pleasure in his obvious pain vanished. She wasn’t like that, couldn’t feel glad in the face of his pain.

  “Thank you. It’s gone, everything. We...” She reached down and touched Jericho on the shoulder. It was the first time she’d touched him since he’d shifted back and for a minute a wave of confused feelings washed over her, as if she was picking up all the residual energy of his shift, if that was somehow all mixed up with her emotions. Everything inside was all jumbled and part of her wanted to kick and scream at him, at Duke, and rail that this wasn’t any of her fault, and the whole thing was just monumentally unfair.

  But more than that she wanted Jericho to stand up and hug her, to pick her up and take her away, back down the trail. To get on that big bike of his and drive until they met the horizon, and then keep going, never looking back.

  Right now, though, neither of those things were going to get any of them out of this mess. She swallowed, realized Duke was looking at her expectantly, and that Jericho had turned around too. His eyes were calm and steady, and she took a breath, pulling strength from him, and went on.

  “Jericho got me out of there, with Morgan shooting at us across the parking lot, up the back trail, and down to the highway. Someone called it in because the fire trucks were there by the time we stopped out on the ridge. Must have been what scared Morgan off, because he didn’t follow us, thankfully.” She stopped for a breath. “And, well, as they say, the rest is history.”

  Duke looked from her to Jericho. “And if you don’t mind me asking, just who are you in all of this?”

  Jericho held her gaze for a minute and she nodded, a thin smile on her lips. He turned back to Duke.

  “Ramsey hired me to kill her. You too, but you were already in the wind.”

  Duke had no response for that, although his eyes widened. He looked from her to Jericho, back again, and then nodded. “Well, I’m fucking glad you changed your mind.”

  A rough tension grew between the men, eddied and circled around them, brushed against her and then subsided. Jericho’s shoulders hunched briefly, the muscles taut. If Jericho had something to say, he held those words back, but it was clear to her it cost him a little to do that. But gradually he relaxed, his shoulders slowly dropping.

  “So, what do we do now?” Harley was losing steam, hunger and shock, and exhaustion taking its toll.

  “I’ll go back, leave you two to...” His words faded away, but she saw something in Duke's eyes that told her he figured out enough about the relationship between her and Jericho to want to leave them be, to leave them alone.

  “You're not out of danger, Duke. Ramsey's still looking for you, you know that. That shifter behind the cabin was supposed to report back, I’m sure. Now he won’t. Ramsey won’t just let this go.”

  Duke stood up, brushing the dust off his hands. He looked at Jericho, then met Harley’s eyes. There was something hard in his look, something she hadn’t seen before.

  “I ran, and you lost the bar. I’m done running now.” He nodded at Jericho. “You take care of her. I'll take care of myself.”

  Jericho stood up. Somewhere during the last few minutes he’d put on his boots, and she wondered when that had happened, and why she hadn’t noticed. It seemed important, somehow, that she hadn’t been paying attention. Like she’d missed something important. But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it?

  The men moved away, and she let them go, let them say whatever they needed to say to each other, let them be guys and shifters, and speak the language that shifters had, that bonded them somehow, no matter what. But that left her out of the loop. Right now though she was happy to be out of that loop, to just sit and do nothing.

  She let her head fall against the back of the rocker, set the thing moving with one foot. It creaked against the weathered floorboards, a nice summer sound. Lemonade, spiked with something strong, would be perfect. If she was lucky, there'd be beer in the cabin, and hopefully canned food. She made a mental note to check before leaving, as she was absolutely starving.

  If she tried, she could hear Duke and Jericho talking. But she stopped trying to hear, choosing to listen to birds in the trees, a squirrel somewhere scolding loudly. The wind picked up, scattering leaves across the ground. She could just see the lake from here, a slice of blue among the green.

  Then Duke came around the corner of the porch. He kicked up the kickstand on his bike, and wheeled it around. He stopped when he came even with the porch steps.

  “I’ll go now.”

  She sat forward, the rocking coming to an abrupt stop.

  “Go find Bear and Van. Bear is probably with his sister. Van...” She was going to say Van was where he usually, is, but she remembered the last time she’d seen Van. He’d been with Ember. Leaving her bar. She wondered if Ember thought she was in the burned mess of the bar, if they’d come to look for her. But she pulled her mind out of the burned debris, and back to the clearing.

  “Call Ember. You have your cell? As soon as you get reception, call her. She’ll know where Van is. And tell her…” Her voice broke. “Tell her I’m fine, okay? Tell her I’m on my way back. Then meet us…” For a minute, she had no idea where they could meet, what place would be safe from Morgan.

  He looked at her, and she saw pride and fear, mixing in his eyes. Finally, he nodded.

  “I can take care of myself, but I’ll go find them. And we’ll meet at the bar.”

  Something dark rose up. She didn’t want to be there, in the burned rubble of her home. Before she even started to say no, she was shaking her head. And then she was standing, wanting to run again, to just get away from all of this.

  “I can’t…”

  “Harley.” Jericho reached out, hand on her arm. She hadn’t heard him come up to the porch, hadn’t seen him standing at the foot of the steps. She jerked away from him.

  “Harley.” He said her name again, his voice was low, patient. “Chances are it’s the last place Morgan would look for you. There’s nothing there for you…”

  “No. There’s nothing. Of course there’s nothing It was my life, but now it’s gone.” Her voice rose with an edge of panic and she took a breath, trying to make it go away. “I can’t.”

  Jericho came up one step, reached out, and touched her again. She let him, and she saw he knew she would. “You’re not going to be alone. Duke will be there, and Van, Bear. Ember.” He moved up another step. His eyes were level with hers, and it was strange being like this, not having him tower over her. She thought it made them equal somehow, even though he’d never made her feel like anything less.

  “I’ll try, how’s that? I don’t know what it’s going to be like. What I’ll be like.” She held back what felt like tears, but she knew she wasn’t close to cry
ing. “But I’ll try.”

  “I’ll take trying for now.” Jericho smiled at her, and his fingers tightened against her skin. She thought he was trying to tell her something through touch, rather than words, and if he was, it was working. She took a deep breath, and gave him a smile. It felt weak, but it felt better than panic and fear.

  “Okay.” She nodded, and he let go of her arm. Duke pushed his bike around the front of the cabin, heading toward the back, and the trail. For a minute, she’d forgotten he was still there. He gave her a smile, nodded to Jericho, and then disappeared around the corner of the cabin. She closed her eyes, wondering if there was anything to eat. For a minute she thought about riding back down the trail with Jericho, curling up under the quilt on her bed. She smiled, remembering what Jericho had done to her in that bed, under that quilt. And what she had done to him, cuffed to the frame, restrained, but hardly submissive.

  It was like a sucker punch when the memory shattered, and reality came back, that her bed and quilt and everything else was gone. She really must be tired, if she was forgetting the fire. Or her mind was blocking things out, trying to save her from remembering the trauma of seeing her home burn, as she watched.

  The quiet was suddenly torn by a motorcycle, roaring to life. She winced, the sound echoing in her brain. She should see Duke off, say good-bye, or good luck, or good something. But then Jericho was coming around the corner of the porch, and the sound of the bike had changed, revving, then fading and changing pitch, as Duke took the trail up the hill, away from the cabin. She caught his eye and he came up the steps, taking the other rocker.

  The sound of the bike echoed back, and it didn’t sound like Duke was going slow at all. “It sounds like the devil is on his tail. He should take it easy on that hill.”

  Jericho shook his head. “He seems to know what he’s doing.”

  “Does he? Do any of us know what we’re doing?” Everything let loose finally, tears welling up, spilling down her cheeks. Suddenly, it was too much, and she was tired, and overwhelmed, and outright terrified of what was to come.