Page 24 of Bound to the Griffin
I blinked at him, anger flaring hot, shocked by the audacity. “Why the hell would you even want me back? I’m not rich. I’m not… some prize catch. And you made it very clear before that I wasn’t worth the effort.” I’d walked in on him and Kelly in my own freaking bed, of all places, and discovering they’d defiled my most private sanctuary that way had been the ultimate slap in the face.
He looked me dead in the eye, cool as ice. “Because nobody leaves me, Gwen. That’s why. Now, back to the conditions. Do you accept?” He hadn’t even listed his conditions, just told me what he’d do for me, as if that was a carrot I couldn’t possibly resist. The arrogant, disgusting bastard. The whole exchange made me feel dirty, like he thought he could buy me.
“No,” I said, hissing the word and straightening, hands balling into fists at my sides. I saw his eyes drop from my face, cool, not in the least impressed by my show of anger. It felt like he saw me as this tiny, harmless kitten he could brush off. I couldn’t believe I’d ever been dumb enough to accept his marriage proposal after a whirlwind romance of less than two months. His eyes landed on the tool belt hanging low on my hips, a hammer, box of nails, and several putty knives weighing it down. His mouth twisted in distaste.
“Not for any money in the world, you bastard. Now get out, leave! You’re not welcome here.” I pointed at the door, but he didn’t move, standing calm and assured in the center of my room. Ah, he’d found a way to dominate the space without the best chair, after all. What a surprise. I fisted the handle of my hammer and glared. “Leave, Evan. We’re over, done with. I am not the one who made a mistake. You did. And no money in the world can fix what you did. Now get lost—I mean it—and tell my mother she can forget it while you’re at it.”
He finally moved, striding into my hallway with his chin held high, his steps slow and measured. I saw it for the act it was, like he were making the choice to leave on his own, and my words had nothing to do with it. “No, Gwendolyn, you’re the one making a big mistake here. You’ll see that, but don’t expect me to take you back when you come crawling into Chicago with yourtail between your legs.” He slammed out my front door, the bell jingling from the force, sharp and bitter, not the merry sound from before.
I had followed him to stand in the doorway and watch him leave, just to make sure that he was truly gone. My blood was rushing in my veins, my ears ringing from the adrenaline. I’d stood up to him, told him off, and it felt so freaking good. He was heading for a luxury sedan, a rental, from the looks of it, parked on the side of the street. Snow had already drifted in piles around the wheels, which meant I didn’t see it until he started swearing. His slick leather loafer kicked the hubcap; a bright yellow wheel clamp.
Movement from the corner of my eye made me turn and catch a glimpse of Jackson leaning against the corner of the B&B. He had his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk on his handsome face, and snow dusted his hat and jacket. He’d done that, sneakily put that wheel clamp on Evan’s car while I’d been inside arguing with him. Our eyes met, and his smile grew a bit wider, a bit more satisfied. Like a cat who’d gotten the canary. My stomach went warm, a hint of arousal curling through me. Jackson had let me handle Evan on my own, but he hadn’t been able to resist messing with the bastard who’d hurt me. The street was also suspiciously empty of other cars, though I was certain Ted’s truck had been out front earlier. Which meant not just Jackson had played a part in this.
He rounded the corner then came to stand at my side in front of the B&B, his arm sliding around my shoulder in a by-now entirely familiar gesture. “Nothing less than he deserves, don’t you think?” he remarked, eyes twinkling. Evan had spotted us, or more specifically, the sheriff standing at my side. Jacksoncurled a finger under my chin, tipped it up, and dropped his head to press a kiss to my mouth that was all about staking a claim.
I’d never had a man do that to me, claim me so fiercely, so openly. Laying down the rules, the lay of the land, for my ex in one fell swoop. That’s what he was doing, and I did not mind; I loved it, reveled in it. His tongue brushed mine—a quick taste, just a hint—but it sparked flames inside my belly. Eager for more, I clung to the front of his jacket, but Jackson had a clear goal in mind. Right now, sadly, that did not include hauling me inside for a quick round of very gratifying sex. When he lifted his head, he met Evan’s glare with a challenge. Then he slipped from my arms, tipping his hat my way with a wink.
I watched him confront Evan, the two speaking in low voices I couldn’t catch. All I knew was that my ex was getting more and more frustrated by the moment, throwing his hands in the air, wagging a finger in a threatening manner. I caught a snippet of the conversation that might have been, “I’ll have your badge for this!” and through it all, Jackson remained calm, collected, in control. I didn’t think Evan had ever been on the receiving end of a person he could not bully into doing what he wanted. This wasn’t Chicago, though, where his name and reputation meant something, where his connections meant he pulled the strings of everyone if he so pleased. This was Hillcrest Hollow, and here, he did not control anything at all. That included me.
Satisfied that Jackson had it handled, I firmly shoved Evan from the back of my mind and began to turn away, catching only a last glimpse of the two arguing men, or rather, the shouting Evan and the unmoving Jackson. A third man was approaching, making me halt and look a second time. This guy was in apinstriped suit, but he’d paired it with winter boots and a thick parka, like he didn’t handle the cold well. His face was tan, hair black, eyes exotic—the man I’d caught staring through the curtains before. From Jackson’s response to him, I didn’t think they were friends.
“Come, Miss Gwen,” Ted said kindly from behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin again, because the guy moved so quietly I hadn’t heard him coming. He only made sound when he wanted to make it, someone ought to put a bell on him. Still, I welcomed the warm, fatherly hand on my shoulder, turning me from the scene unfolding right in the middle of Main Street. “You’re letting in the cold.”
Chapter 20
Jackson
The crisp morning air preceding a storm still clung to me when I landed in Gwen’s backyard, my talons sinking into frosted grass before bone and muscle pulled tight, feathers burning away into skin. The shift always left a faint ache in my shoulders, like I’d been carrying too much weight for too long. Maybe I had, or maybe this was about what still remained unresolved.
The woods were quiet behind me, too quiet. The goon we’d caught vandalizing Gwen’s B&B had holed up in a ramshackle cabin like a rat, waiting for someone to pull his strings. I didn’t give a damn about him; pawns were replaceable. It was the hand that moved the piece across the board that mattered, and I still hadn’t caught even a shadow of it. Meanwhile, Gwen was still in the crosshairs, and it had gone on so long now that it was making me uneasy. We couldn’t start our lives—complete the mating bond—until this was done and over with.
I dragged a hand down my face, exhaling slowly and forcing the frustration down where it wouldn’t show. She’d been safer sleeping at my cabin, away from whatever foul thing kept seeping into her dreams, but the land behind this house made my feathers itch every time I came near it. There was something old here. Wrong. If Thorne would just stop smirking and spill what he knew, maybe I could pin it down before it pinned her.
A sound broke the snow-blanketed silence. My head snapped up, ears twitching to catch more of it. They were voices, low and sharp, drifting to me from the other side of the B&B, at Gwen’sfront door. I stilled, then quickly jogged around the house to the side gate. Urgency filled my gut; I was certain Gwen was in trouble and needed help. But that feeling had already morphed, shifted, then faded before I reached the corner. Halting there, I peeked around the side, eagle-sharp eyes catching movement by the door.
Oh. Not a threat, at least, not in that way. The sight of him—tall, polished, all expensive coat and smugness—made my jaw lock tight. Evan. I knew him immediately, even though she’d never described him to me. I’d heard just enough from Gwen these last few days to want to break his nose clean off his face. The bastard who cheated on her with her so-called best friend, now standing on her porch like he had a right to breathe her air. My instincts screamed to go in there, drag him out by his collar, and remind him exactly who he was dealing with.
Then Gwen’s voice carried through the frozen air, steady, calm, with that stubborn confidence that made half this damn town underestimate her. She wasn’t cowed. She didn’t need me barging in. Besides, she wasn’t alone, even without my help. Luther and Kai were across the street, watching. Ted’s voice drifted faintly from inside the house. She already had backup, because that’s how this town treated their own. Didn’t mean I couldn’t get my own piece in.
As soon as they went inside and closed the door, I strode to Evan’s car, a sleek black rental that screamed money, like the man had something to prove. I set the wheel clamp with the kind of practiced ease that would have made my military instructors proud. Petty? Maybe. Satisfying? Absolutely. It didn’t take long for the rat to notice. Soon enough, he was in the street with me,his voice rising, threats spilling out like cheap wine. I met it all with the same calm I wore behind the badge.
“Parking’s illegal on this side,” I told him, tone even. “Fines stack quick.” I held out my notebook as if I were writing a fine on the spot, not that I even recalled where the appropriate traffic citation forms were. I never issued any; I didn’t need to in a town this size. The red flush creeping up his neck was worth the headache.
Then, like a sour note cutting through an already bad tune, Kiran showed up. Pinstriped, smooth as ever, eyes holding secrets I didn’t like. The weretiger had carved himself a place here last fall, but that didn’t mean anyone trusted him. Least of all me. None of us understood why he was sticking around or what he was after; we just knew we didn’t trust him. After all, he’d worked for the bad guys once, who was to say he wasn’t still?
The fact that Evan seemed to know him also didn’t work in his favor. The two bent their heads close, whispering like conspirators, and my gut twisted. This couldn’t mean anything good; I had to watch both of them like a hawk. My eyes flicked to the darkening clouds overhead, gathering and swirling, ready to dump even more snow on us with great force.
When Evan returned from his little heart-to-heart with the weretiger, his smug smile was back in place. He shoved a wad of cash into my hand, crisp bills whispering together. “That should cover your fines. Now take the damn clamp off.” I let the bills hang there a beat before pocketing them, slow, deliberate. Then I crouched, removed the clamp, and stood, brushing off my hands.
“You still can’t leave tonight.” My voice was steady, not unkind, but sharp enough to cut through his arrogance. “Storm’s rolling in. Road’ll swallow you whole if you try. Best hope you find a roof to hole up under; otherwise, you’ll freeze out there.” I didn’t bother to add what I was really thinking: if the storm didn’t get him, I just might.
He stared, then laughed, as if he thought my remark was funny. A joke played on him to trick the city slicker out of more money, perhaps. But in this, Kiran seemed to agree. He reached a hand past the cheater’s head and pointed to the roiling clouds in the sky. “That, sir, is advice I suggest you heed. Those clouds are not a trick. Even our mighty sheriff does not have that kind of power.” No, I did not, and if I had, I wouldn’t be using it to trap this guy in town. The last thing I wanted was for him to stick around.
I didn’t stay to hear what else the two said to each other, but turned to the B&B to appraise the work remaining on the roof. I wouldn’t be able to finish the last stretch of it on the left side of the house, but nearly all the other tiles and insulation had been replaced. The chimney was still crooked, but all loose stones had been removed. That should make it safe enough to withstand tonight’s storm.
I might ask Drew to pitch in, perhaps that would do the trick. As a gargoyle, he was at home atop roofs as much as I was, and he’d always been handy and eager to please. My mind flashed to the burglar—a disappointingly uninteresting and scrawny guy—under watch in his hidey hole. Drew was sleeping, having kept watch all night, and Liz had assigned her niece to the task. I wasn’t quite sure if that was going to work, and it would definitely piss off my deputy when he found out.
I was still contemplating my next move when footsteps approached from behind, and a hand pertinently tapped my shoulder. “Fine,” Evan drawled with disdain. “If I can’t leave, I’ll need lodgings. Please secure them for me this instant.” I turned, eyebrow raised, my own dislike for him as clear as day on my face.
