A storm was coming.

  33

  The door rumbled as someone knocked at it.

  Chloe yelped in surprise, the dish sliding from her hand and clattering into the sink, water splashing everywhere as she tried to get things under control.

  “Dammit,” she said, cursing at her own clumsiness as she shut the tap off and dried her hands.

  The door knocked again. Heavier this time. Whoever it was, they weren’t interested in being overly patient.

  Chloe looked around. Her house was lit, she had most of the lights on, though the curtains were drawn and the windows shut in anticipation of the coming storm, which meant she’d been blind to the outdoors and had missed whoever it was coming up the driveway.

  At this time of night though, there was only one person it might be. Gritting her teeth, she walked toward the door, pausing at the table by the stairs to grab the shotgun.

  Ever since Winston had come by, she’d not let the thing out of her sight. Something was wrong with the man, and he was no longer taking a simple no for an answer. It was as if he believed he now owned her property in every way but having her signature, and that he could get away with threatening her just to get it.

  She didn’t trust him not to come in the middle of the night and do something drastic. So, the shotgun followed her around. To bed. The shower. While working. It was always within a few feet, just in case.

  The door shook again. Whoever it was, they weren’t having any patience. Steeling herself for the confrontation she knew had to happen, Chloe reached out with one hand, turned the handle and then stepped back as the door swung open, bringing the shotgun up to her shoulder.

  “I told you not to come back!” she screamed, finger on the trigger.

  A large figure went wide-eyed and dove for cover.

  “What the hell!” Linden shouted from around the corner. “I know I didn’t show, but don’t you think that shooting me is a little bit of overkill?” he hollered.

  “Linden?”

  “Of course, Linden!” he said a little snippily. “Who the hell else?”

  “I thought it was Winston,” she said.

  A moment later, a toe of his shoe peeked back around the doorframe. “Is it safe?” he asked cautiously from hiding.

  “Yes, it’s safe,” she said with a sigh, putting the gun down, safety engaged once again.

  “Okay then,” he said, re-appearing. “Hi.”

  “Hey.” She looked him up and down. “Thank goodness, you’re okay.” Then she spied something on his stomach. “Hey, you’re hurt! Linden, you’re hurt! Was it during the fight? What’s going on?” she asked, emotions and questions tumbling out of her as she rushed to inspect him.

  The wound appeared to have closed, but the skin around it was blackened and dead, blood soaking part of his shirt.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “I know, it looks bad, but I promise you, I’m okay.”

  “Someone sliced you open with a blade,” she said. “You are not okay.”

  “I am. It’s…complicated.”

  There it was again. The secret he was hiding. The one that Sydney also apparently knew about. That she wouldn’t tell him. Chloe bit down on her lip.

  “What are you hiding from me?” she asked, not moving from the door, not inviting him inside. There needed to be answers.

  “Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t’ show up,” he said. “I didn’t mean to, it’s just that, something came up and—” he frowned. “How did you know about the fight?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said, protecting her friend.

  Linden looked thoughtful for several seconds, then nodded in understanding. “Sydney told you.”

  “No, she didn’t.”

  He gave her a look that said, ‘don’t treat me like I’m an idiot.’ “You’re covering for her. It’s fine. What did she tell you?”

  “That there was a fight. She didn’t think you were hurt—though clearly she was wrong—and that maybe because you were busy dealing with that, you couldn’t make it.”

  “Chloe, I—”

  “No, Linden,” she said softly, the anger evaporating, leaving little more than emptiness. A hollow sensation. Chloe knew what she had to do now. “I’m done being lied to. Of having you keep secrets from me. There’s something going on over there. Something you don’t want me to know about. That’s fine, but I’m not going to pretend like I don’t know. You need to keep your life secret, that’s fine. But I’m not gonna let you in mine. I can’t. If you don’t care enough to tell me, then that’s your choice. But this is mine. Please leave.”

  Linden looked like she’d just ripped the wound in his stomach back open. He crumpled slightly, shoulders slumping. All in all, she decided he looked defeated.

  It wasn’t a look she’d ever seen on the perpetually confident man’s face until now, and she realized she didn’t like it. It hurt her to see, and for a moment she wavered, considering giving him a chance to explain.

  That wasn’t going to happen though, she realized. He would have already started telling her everything if he was planning on it. Clearly, he liked his secrets more than he liked her.

  “You need to go,” Chloe repeated, fighting back the tears, working hard to keep her voice steady. “Now.”

  The sky behind him lit up as lightning crisscrossed the horizon. There was silence between them and seconds later, thunder rumbled through the sky, the storm warning all within range that it wasn’t happy, and that it was getting closer.

  “I’m sorry,” Linden said, but she just shook her head.

  “I can’t do this with you, Linden. I can’t ignore your secrets. I need someone who will be completely open and transparent. If you can’t, I understand, but it’s what I need.”

  He opened his mouth, but no words came out, and he eventually shut it.

  “Goodbye Linden,” she said, closing the door.

  She turned the lock and didn’t move, resting her head against it, not trusting her legs to support her.

  After a minute, she heard a pained noise, and then his heavy bootsteps go down the stairs as he accepted that she was serious.

  Then, and only then, did she retreat to the couch to allow herself to cry. The tears came and she mopped them up with tissues. Then she stopped, taking deep breaths. A few moments later, her emotions got the better of her and she cried some more.

  The pattern repeated itself for an unknown amount of time. Until the storm hit and lashed her farmhouse with its rain, and then some.

  Normally, Chloe enjoyed the thunderstorms, but not tonight. Tonight, it was too much a reflection of her own mood, and she just wished it would pass. Like the pain in her stomach, the almost-illness she felt from sending Linden away.

  It had been the right move.

  Hadn’t it?

  Almost as if the universe had answered her, the door shook under someone’s knock in perfect timing with the thunder, the double impact jolting Chloe and springing her to her feet. He’d come back.

  “Well, well,” she mumbled, wiping at her eyes and heading for the door. “It took you some time, but I guess you came to the right decision after all.”

  A smile tugged at the corners of her eyes as she pulled the door open, ready to let Linden explain and tell her everything. To show that he cared about her enough to let her in.

  Only it wasn’t Linden at the door.

  34

  He had nowhere to go.

  Rejected by Chloe. Cast out from his own people because of his own actions, Linden didn’t know where to go. So, he just walked aimlessly, out into the fields, following the driving paths between crops. One foot in front of the other.

  He moved with no urgency. No speed. There was no need. With her rejection, his entire desire to live had been erased in the span of a few seconds.

  By attacking the guards, Linden had essentially given up any hope of being welcomed back among his own kind ever again. Both sides would want to kill him now. On top of that, his mate, the one woman he’d hoped to spend the rest of his life with, she also didn’t want him.

  He was an outcast. Had nowhere to go. Nobody who wanted him and nowhere that would take him in.

  Overhead, the sky began to spit little raindrops, the first wave of the incoming storm. Sheet lightning flung itself across the heavens, showing him his path in bright light, but Linden barely noticed. The only thing he did was change his angle of direction to take him to the forest.

  He wandered it as the rain picked up, slowly working its way down through the canopy, eventually ending up in the middle of a clearing. Pausing, he looked around, noting the large rock close to the middle of the oblong opening.

  “Real funny,” he snarled at the sky as Linden realized he knew where he was.

  This was the same clearing where he’d first met Chloe, stumbling across her in his wolf form and scaring her into thinking she was about to die. Now fate was showing him a reminder of what he’d found, only to lose it again.

  “Fuck you!” he shouted, hurling his hatred up into the sky.

  A brilliant fork of lightning stabbed down from the sky, so close the brilliance forced Linden to close his eyes to slits. He was still reacting to that a half-second later when the shockwave hit the forest, the sonic boom loud enough to hurt his hearing, forcing him to one knee.

  Apparently, the storm didn’t like it when he talked back.

  Why bring me here, he complained to nobody in particular. It’s just a reminder of the fact that twice now, I’ve lost the one I thought I was supposed to be with.

  “Ah, I get it now,” he said, wiping his forehead as the sky opened up with huge fat raindrops, soaking him in seconds as he stood unmoving, his eyes replaying the scene in front of him again, as he’d cleared the rock, only to find her right there waiting.

  Fate was trying to tell him that he didn’t deserve a mate. That he was destined to be alone. Forever.

  “Would have been nice to know before I went and screwed things up with my family,” he growled.

  Thunder rumbled again, but this one was farther away, not bothering his enhanced senses.

  My wolf senses. The other half of me.

  Linden jerked as he looked around the clearing once more. “Of course,” he hissed, slamming a palm against his forehead. “I’m so blind. You’re not taunting me. You’re showing me a sign.”

  He slapped a meaty fist into his palm, a course of action forming in his head. The aimless wandering hadn’t been so aimless after all. His subconscious brought him here, to remind him that he needed to tell Chloe everything. Show her what he truly was and let her make a decision. It was saying that he was hiding half of himself from her.

  She didn’t deserve that. She’d gone out on a limb and trusted him, opening up to him after what happened to her last boyfriend. If she could give him something of her that she’d thought lost forever, then there was no way that it would work between them if he didn’t do the same.

  “It’s time you knew everything, Chloe,” he said, turning in the soft, muddy ground and heading back toward her house, his spirits buoyed by the sudden understanding.

  He’d been holding back his secret because he didn’t want to scare her. To have her run away. But the truth was, by hiding it, he’d been telling her she wasn’t worthy of his trust. That he didn’t care.

  And that, quite simply, was the worst of lies. Linden did care. More than she could ever possibly know.

  Until he told her.

  Then, and only then, would she understand, and be able to make a fair and unbiased decision about him. About them. Maybe she would still reject him, and that was a possibility he had to be prepared for. But there was a chance, just a chance, that she might accept him for who he was.

  And that chance was good enough for him. He would have to trust that she would make the right choice. Trust her. That was what it was all about, what it was all only ever about. The trust between partners. Between mates. It had to be absolute, and until now, Linden had been slacking on that majorly.

  But no more. From now on, he would tell her everything. No secrets, only open, honest communication between two equals.

  If she did reject him, at least this time he wouldn’t make a fool of himself after. He would take it like a man.

  Jogging through the fields, he ran on, faster and faster, a smile across his face.

  “Chloe!” he shouted, knowing full well she wouldn’t hear him, and yet not caring in the least. “Chloe, I’m coming!”

  On and on he ran, through the fields, until the farmhouse appeared, its lights still on, a beacon in the dark, guiding him home. He raced through the last of the fields and then to the cleared land around the house and the buildings. Clearing the steps in a single bound, he skidded to a halt at the door, rapping on it repeatedly.

  “Chloe! Chloe, open up,” he called. “I need to talk to you. I need to tell you something.” He paused. “No. I need to tell you everything.”

  There was no answer, so he knocked again. “Chloe, it’s me. Please don’t shoot me. But you need to hear what I have to say. I’ll leave if you want, but just let me show you the truth. If you don’t like it, I’ll go away and never come back. But you were right. I need to trust you. So please, just answer the door and let me explain everything I’ve kept hidden.”

  The door stayed closed. Nobody spoke to him from inside. Could he really have screwed it up that badly? That she wouldn’t even listen to him now?

  The good mood that had been creeping up on him vanished in a heartbeat, dumping him right back amidst the growing depression. Shuffling to the side, he peeked into the house, looking through the crack between blind and window.

  His stomach went cold as he saw the carpet bunched up, and off to one side, her shotgun.

  Without thinking, he tried the door. It opened without him having to bust it in, swinging inward to reveal the scenes of an obvious struggle.

  “Chloe?” he called cautiously, stepping inside. “Chloe, this isn’t funny.”

  There was no answer. Terrified of what he might find, he opened his nose to the room and inhaled deeply, preparing himself for the scent of his brothers.

  How dare they come here and take her, just to get at me! This is something the Tyrant-King would do.

  Almost immediately, Chloe’s soft scent hit him, along with the gentle lavender from the air freshener in the front hallway. But beyond that, there was something else. A scent he knew well.

  “Winston,” Linden snarled, flying out the door, without bothering to check the air for anything else. He only had one thought on his mind.

  He was going to kill anyone who touched his mate, even if it was Winston.

  35

  Chloe struggled at the bonds, but the stiff rope had no give to it, and all she ended up doing was chafing the skin around her wrists.

  “You aren’t going to get free,” Winston said from where he sat across from her, staring down at the papers on the table. “Trust me, the knots are quite solid.”

  “It’s about the only thing I trust coming out of your mouth,” she said, hurling the words across the table with as much vehemence as she could muster, given her current situation.

  “I told you that you would sell to me,” he explained in a bored tone. “I gave you every chance to sign it over. I was offering you fair market value. You can’t deny that.”

  “’Cause that makes you such a good guy,” she said with a hiss. “Bet you’re like every other nice guy out there. You just can’t take no for an answer, can you? Rejection just makes you get all sorts of mad. You feel like you deserve my property, though I can’t imagine why you deserve much more than a fist in your face.”

  “Be quiet,” Winston said with a sigh, flicking a hand off to one side of her.

  Chloe looked up just in time to see the look of irritation cross the face of the man standing there. Clearly, she didn’t enjoy being subordinate to her neighbor. Just as clearly, however, he knew she would obey, because he grabbed a piece of fabric and tied it over her mouth, pulling it tight until she was forced to open her mouth.

  “Be quiet,” the big man rumbled.

  She shivered as his hands brushed against the back of her neck. It was he and the other goon, the one standing on her other side, that had come barging into her house when she opened the door.

  They were so strong. So fast, she hadn’t had a chance. She’d gone for the shotgun, but the other one had knocked it away, his arms so fast she could barely see the movement. Her hand still stung from the blow, the weapon wrenched out of her grip.

  Chloe had expected this all along from Winston. She’d been fully expectant that he would come back to her place and try again to get her to sign. That he might even attempt to rough her up. That was why she’d carried the shotgun around.

  To full-on break into her house with some hired goons, however, was well beyond anything she’d thought the older man capable of. This was blatant assault. Kidnapping. Even if she signed over the farm, there was no way it would stand up in court. Not to mention when he went to jail for kidnapping her.

  There was something else going on here, but she just couldn’t figure out what. There was something about the men, something familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. Whatever it was, Chloe knew that once she signed it, things weren’t likely to work out well for her.

  “Now, are you ready to sign?” Winston asked as he finished scratching some things out and writing new ones in.

  Chloe rolled her eyes and tried to talk through the gag he’d just had tied around her mouth.

  Winston sighed and motioned to the guard again.

  The big man’s growl was audible to all parties, a clear sign he didn’t appreciate being treated like a flunky, but the gag came out of her mouth anyway, freeing her to talk.

  “Of course, I’m not going to sign, Winston. Why on earth do you think I would agree to something like that after what you’ve done to me? Even you aren’t that stupid.” She paused for effect. “Are you?”

  It was faint, but she was positive she heard a snicker come from at least one of the guards. Possibly both, though the one to her left was much harder to read. He kept a neutral face far better than his comrade. Still, if she could foster enough distrust, perhaps get them to work against one another, maybe she could escape. Or call for help. Anything.

 

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