Runaway (Fox Ridge Shifters Book 1) Read online

  “Crissy, meet Ian Drummond.”

  For the umpteenth time, she held out her hand and said, “Pleased to meet you.”

  They made very little chit-chat before Luke led her away. She glanced back over her shoulder to see him watching her, expressionless. She smiled a little, and one corner of his mouth lifted.

  “You didn’t say what he did for a living,” she said.

  “He works for Neal,” Luke said tersely. “And he owns a motorcycle repair shop. I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” he continued, clearly changing the subject.

  “Sure. Food sounds good. And I’d like a beer.”

  After another half hour of food and talk with people whose names she had almost forgotten, someone called out, “Let’s dance!” Shifters, with their beastly strength, easily moved the furniture to the edges of the room and rolled back the gray area rug. Crissy and Luke smiled and dashed into the center of the floor, holding hands. He started into a two-step to “Any Man of Mine,” but she stumbled.

  “I don’t know this dance.”

  “I’ll teach you. It’s easy.”

  He did, and it was. Soon she was turning around the floor with him, happier than she had been in years. They hardly spoke, simply delighting in touching each other. During a slow dance he raised his head and said, “Oh, I forgot.”

  “What?” she asked, seeing his grin.

  “I have a Christmas present for you. Would you like to see it?”

  She laid her head back on his shoulder. “I’m pretty comfortable right where we are.”

  “Hmm. After this dance then.”

  A few minutes later, he led her up the stairs to the long corridor, carpeted in dark blue, with a series of white doors where she knew the bedrooms to be.

  “This is a big house.”

  “When the clan came to this region, many of the single shifters stayed close by for safety. We had thirty people living here. There’s a bunk room.”

  “Safety?”

  “Long story. Here,” he said, opening a door on their right.

  She wondered if he was hiding something, but decided to let it go. Both of them could be evasive. Crissy peeked into the room to see a cat bed sitting on the floor. In it lay Hairy.

  “Oh, Luke, you didn’t tell me.”

  “It was touch and go for a few days, and I didn’t want to get your hopes up for nothing.”

  When she sank to her knees by the cat, he gave her a weak little meow. His belly was shaved, exposing a long line of sutures. She rubbed his head, and he raised his chin and closed his eyes.

  “Is he in a lot of pain, do you think?”

  “He’s drugged up good.”

  “Poor thing.” She petted him some more, avoiding his torso. She lowered herself to sit by the cat with her legs tucked under her, and Luke settled with his back against the bed, long legs stretched across the carpet.

  “You’re staying the night?” he asked.

  Lifting her eyes, she found him studying her. “I have a bag in my truck.” She flashed a sly smile.

  “I’ll get it for you. I don’t want you going out in the cold again in that dress. You’ll freeze to death.”

  “It was a blessing downstairs with all those people and their body heat.”

  “A lot of shifters run warm. If I turned you, you’d rarely be cold.” He pulled her into his lap.

  “My research said shifters stopped turning humans a long time ago.”

  “We can only turn ones who have a mating bond. We used to turn human lovers, but it stopped working over a hundred and fifty years ago.”

  Something grim in his tone had her asking, “What happened to them?”

  “They died.”

  She thought about this. “So...you could make me a shifter because we are bonded?”

  “Yes, Liebling. I would like that very much. It always works with mates.”

  With her luck, she’d be the exception. “Would I be a bear because you’re a bear?”

  “Not necessarily.” He kissed her temple. “Would you think about it? For me?”

  “I’ll think about it,” she promised.

  “If you’re too warm, we should get you out of that dress.”

  She slapped him playfully on the arm. “Men. Always thinking of one thing.”

  “Sweetie, you forget the cord. I know you’re thinking the exact same thing.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Luke made love tenderly to her that night, and afterward they lay talking for an hour. As he drifted off to sleep, her doubts returned. Restless, she rolled away from him. She needed to tell him the truth of what he was getting into, but every time she tried, the words stuck in her throat. She rolled over again, tense and uncomfortable.

  Luke stirred and sat up. “Come. I want to show you something. Let’s get dressed.”

  She pushed up onto her elbows. “Dressed? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “That’s the only time to see what I want to show you.”

  “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “It’s not like I can sleep, anyway.”

  Dressing in the jeans from her bag, she went downstairs to where he waited by the door, holding her coat.

  “We’re going outside?” she asked as she shrugged into it.

  “Yes.”

  He smiled. A small one, not his usual big grin with the creases in his cheeks and the twinkle in his eyes. She guessed he wasn’t as sure of how this would work out as he acted. For his sake, she held out her hand, and the grin appeared when he took it.

  Outside, he kept her hand and led her through the darkened yard. They slogged through mud around the back of the house and out to the chicken coop.

  “I’ll trip on something,” she said in a harsh whisper, trying not to wake the whole house.

  “There’s a path here. I know it well.” The pasture gate squealed loudly in the night. “Damn, I need to oil that thing.”

  She giggled, and it was like being a kid again. Sneaking out at night. Having an adventure.

  “Where are you taking me, Captain Luke?”

  “A little farther.” Humor filled his voice.

  They went out on a narrow path to the middle of the pasture. Winter-dead grass brushed at the hems of her jeans, and the cold wet earth gave off the faintest scents of sleeping green things. The muddy ground muffled their footsteps.

  “Here,” he said when they stood in the center. In the darkness, the pasture felt vast, the tree line impossibly far away. She fought vertigo for a second, and leaned in to him. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispered in her ear, lips brushing warm against her chilled skin.

  “They already are.”

  “Then don’t open them yet. Turn your face up—to the sky.”

  She did, letting the back of her head fall upon his shoulder.

  “Now. Open them.”

  “Oh.” Out here, far from city lights, twinkling stars filled the sky from horizon to horizon, slashed through with the Milky Way’s bright river. Although she’d lived in rural places before, she’d never taken the time to pause and see them. “It’s beautiful.”

  “This is what I see when I look up, Liebling. Not blue sky, but endless stars. Worlds and worlds of things that could happen. Good and bad. This is what I have to offer you, Crissy. The stars.”

  “You are a dreamer.”

  “Maybe I’m a dreamer. I’ve always thought of myself as a simple man. All I want—all I’ve ever wanted—was to farm my land with my mate by my side. Be my mate in all ways, Crissy. Jump. I’m here to catch you. I promise, I’ll never let you down. I’ll never hurt you. Tell me what has you so troubled, and I will make it go away.”

  His eyes glimmered in the starlight. She truly saw him then, this sweet beautiful man who wanted to cherish her. He would hold her up on a pedestal, and maybe she could even manage to stay there. Here under the stars, with their worlds of possibilities, she only allowed herself to see the good ones. “Yes,” s
he whispered, the words coming from a place deep inside her that loved and trusted this man beyond reason. Beyond what was wise or safe.

  He turned her in his arms, big hands splayed against her back, and for a minute all he did was hold her and press his face into her neck. Then his lips warmed hers.

  A voice called out from the edge of the pasture several times before Luke raised his head.

  “Who’s out there?” Hugh. An electric lantern swayed in his upraised hand, casting long dancing shadows across the grass.

  Luke laughed and leaned in, ready to kiss her some more. “It’s just us, Hugh. Go back to bed.”

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Well, I dunno, I thought maybe two stupid teenagers were making out in our pasture when they have a nice warm room of their own.”

  Crissy squinted against the light. “You know, he’s awful quiet for a man-mountain.”

  “I hear good, too.”

  They both giggled. “Go,” Luke said. “We’ll be in soon.”

  “Remember to close the gate.”

  “Now you’re being ornery.”

  Hugh’s chuckle echoed across the pasture, and the lantern light receded, leaving the night stark. Crissy rubbed her cheek against Luke’s. “Let’s go in and warm up.”

  Frost settled on the grass. Crissy shivered and stepped carefully, holding tight to Luke’s hand. The thought of tripping in the mud didn’t seem as funny on the return to the house. Boots thick with mud had to be left at the back door, and they stripped off their jeans with their filthy hems, leaving them on top of the washer for Neal to wonder about in the morning. Unless they had woken him, too.

  They tip-toed through the silent house, half undressed. Luke wanted to undress her slowly, but goosebumps covered her from head to toe. He stripped her clothes, and they warmed up the old-fashioned way. Afterward, while Luke lay dreaming by her side, Crissy stared into the darkness. She loved him. She would make this work, somehow.

  Crissy breathed in his scent and tried to sleep despite the worrying thought she still hadn’t told him about Sean.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The day after Christmas, Bobby called Crissy to come in early for work. He met her in the kitchen and asked her to follow him into his office. Luke was there, lounging in one of the guest chairs. He stood when she entered and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  “What’s this about?” she asked as she settled into a chair.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  Bobby sat behind his desk and leaned forward to pick up a file folder he had neatly placed in the center of his blotter. “Thanks for coming in. I’ll get straight to the point. You know, I hire a lot of immigrants, and I don’t want any trouble, so I check social security numbers now.”

  Crissy flushed and then went cold as she felt the blood drain from her face. A buzz ran down her arms. “I see.”

  Bobby waved the file. “Your social security number has been used by Pham An, Lupita Gomez, and Galina Aliyeva.” He peered at her. “You don’t seem Vietnamese, Hispanic, or Russian.”

  Should have found a better ID. “No, sir,” she said and bit her lips to keep back explanations. She needed to know how much he knew first.

  “So I took your prints off a glass and had San run them—Crystal Desiree Grady.”

  Luke sat up straighter. “You’re not—wait. Crystal Desiree?”

  “I know. My mom gave me a hooker name.” She’d said it so many times, the humor came automatically, without feeling. She rubbed her hands over her face. “My records should have been sealed,” she whispered, defeated.

  “They are,” Bobby assured her. “I don’t know what you were involved in, just that around that same time your father was imprisoned for thirty years for aggravated vehicle hijacking.”

  Luke leaned forward and placed a hand on her thigh. “Crissy?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, knowing she sounded about five years old.

  Not moving his hand, Luke said to Bobby, “Can we talk in private?”

  “Sure.” Bobby rose and left the office.

  Crissy stared at the carpet, unable to face Luke. He moved his hand from her knee to rub her back, letting her be until finally she leaned his way. Their chairs were too far apart for her to place her head on his shoulder, so he helped her up and guided her to Bobby’s black leather couch. There he pulled her into his lap and whispered things in German she didn’t understand until he said, “I love you, Crissy. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

  ###

  Crissy moved out of his lap, and he feared she might run. Instead, she sat up next to him and held his hand.

  “When I was fourteen, I moved in with my dad. He was out of prison for the second time. Never even considered going straight and decided it was time I went into the family business. The first thing he did was teach me to drive.” She laughed a little. “At fourteen, I was a wheel man. I drove my dad to the location of the cars he wanted and picked him up after they were delivered to be sold or chopped up. Eventually he taught me the ins and outs of car theft. How to get in them, how to get away with them. What kinds of cars were too much trouble, and what kinds were easy to sell.”

  She spoke to the floor. “The first time I stole a car on my own...” Finally, she looked up. “I loved it, Luke. It was exhilarating. I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care. I was with my dad, and he wanted to spend time with me.”

  Bounced from relative to relative, it must have been a wonderful, heady experience for her. He squeezed her hand. “I understand.”

  “You don’t. You had family that loved you. I thought my father did. It took a long time for me to realize it was a piss-poor father who taught his teenage daughter how to steal. How’s that for father-daughter bonding?”

  He knew it was a rhetorical question, so he remained quiet.

  “My father sold all his cars through the McGowan family. They were criminals, rich and successful. Like a crime syndicate. In a way, they were my dad’s bosses. The summer after my sophomore year in high school—I was sixteen—Sean McGowan decided he wanted a taste of the family business. His father wasn’t exactly happy about it, but Sean was young and spoiled. He’d gone to the best prep schools and was accepted at Princeton for the fall. He wasn’t tough, but he was reckless and lived as if nothing bad could ever happen to him because it never had.”

  She moistened her lips and briefly closed her eyes. “He was so handsome and charming. He’d smile at me as if I was the most enchanting girl he’d ever seen. He was my first love.” She shrugged. “Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. I was a summer fling for him.”

  “What happened?”

  “One night, Sean wanted to collect a Maserati. My father said no. Sean insisted and dragged me along with him. Dad went along to keep me safe. My dad’s instincts about getting in trouble were crap, but this time he was right. The car was in an alley behind a club. I parked, and they got out. The Maserati wasn’t even locked, and Sean yanked the door open. The next thing I knew, he’d pulled out a gun, and a couple were getting out of the car.”

  “Wait. Where were you?”

  “Sitting in our car, watching. So,” she said, blinking and clearly trying to regain her train of thought. “I could see my dad yelling but couldn’t hear him. Sean had the people lie face down on the pavement. My dad ran up and yanked the gun out of his hand. It went off. The woman was shot in the back.”

  More staring at the floor. He waited her out, but when he squeezed her hand, she resumed talking. “I was so scared. I panicked. One second I was watching this total catastrophe, and the next... I peeled out of there and drove like a bat out of hell. I left them behind, Luke.”

  He could hear the pain in her voice. She turned to him with tear-filled eyes.

  “It was a long time ago, and you were very young,” he said.

  “Oh, I know that now; back then, all I thought was I’d failed the two most important people in my life.”

&
nbsp; “What happened next?”

  “Sean took the Maserati and blew out of there, also leaving my dad behind. He had to take off on foot. Sean was caught in the car and was arrested after a high-speed chase.” She laughed, a derisive sound. “This is what he said: He came under the influence of my dad to please me, because he was totally in love. My dad was arrested. He had a public defender and two prior convictions. Sean had a rich family—never mind that they were some of the biggest criminals in the city—fancy lawyers, and a charming, innocent face.”

  “What about you? You were involved.”

  “I was arrested, then offered a deal. No punishment. I would get off scot-free if I testified. The DA worked on me. She said my dad was a poor father for teaching me to steal. She said Sean threw me under the bus and blamed it all on me.” She shrugged. “So I took the deal.”

  “You were only sixteen and brave enough to testify against your own father.”

  She turned to face him for the first time since they sat down. Her every expression—her hazel eyes filled with pain, the tight line of her lips—spoke of anguish. He realized it wasn’t remorse; she worried about his reaction. He put his arm around her, pulling her to him, and kissed her hair. “You were a kid. I know from personal experience how it can be.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, but this is your story.”

  She stared, her mouth open. Relief flooded through the cord. “You don’t care?”

  “Why should I care about what you did as a kid? Do you still steal cars?”

  She swallowed hard. “No.” She began laugh and cry at the same time. “All this time I thought you would reject me. I’ve been miserable for weeks.”

  “Never, Crissy. Never.” All this time he’d been thinking she didn’t trust him. It had gnawed at him and filled him with self-doubt. And all along she’d had her own insecurities.

  He held her until she calmed, and then said, “What did you say to the DA?”

  She sighed and pulled a cloth handkerchief from her pocket to wipe her face and nose. “I never knew who pulled the trigger. It was accidental, sort of, and the woman lived, but it was still Sean’s gun. He got five years, served three. My dad got thirty. Sean lost everything. His spot at Princeton, his status in the upper crust. The last thing he ever said to me was that when he got out, he would hunt me down and kill me. The moment I graduated from high school, I bought a car and took off. I’ve been running ever since.”