Wild Wolf Claiming. Rhyannon Byrd
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I don’t have anything against banks—I just don’t have time to go to mine every day. So I usually hold on to my cash tips during the week, and then make a deposit every Monday morning.”
With her explanation made, she zipped the backpack closed, then tried to take it from Elliot, but he just pulled it back up onto his shoulder. She frowned, but didn’t argue with him about it, her gaze cutting back to Max as she added, “And not that it’s any of your business, but I put almost every penny I make into a business savings account. And Viv is trying to save up enough to go to dance school. So it’s not like we’re backward idiots who don’t understand how the banking system works.”
Jesus, at least this explained why they lived in such a shithole. These girls had been working their asses off without enjoying any of the rewards, hiding away every penny they could spare in order to better their futures. As much as it frustrated him that they hadn’t been taking better care of themselves, he knew it spoke volumes about what kind of women they were.
Clearing his throat to get her attention, he held her troubled gaze as he said, “We need to get going. You have everything you need?”
He watched her pink tongue swipe across that juicy lower lip, and nearly growled from the blistering surge of untimely lust that tore through him, damn near burning him alive. But then it was like a cold bucket of water had just been tossed in his face, because she shook her head, and Elliot already knew what was coming. “I have everything, but I’m not... I’m not leaving here with you. I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me tonight, but I’m driving myself to the shelter.”
Frustration crawled up his spine like an animal, clawing at his skin, making him want to gnash his teeth. “Why the fuck would you do that when I’m here?” His voice came out gruffer than he’d wanted, but there wasn’t any way he could pull off something mellow and calm right now. “I’m here to help you by taking you someplace safe. Someplace where I can protect you.”
“Elliot.” She sighed, and he could see the arguments building in her head without her even having to say a single word.
“Max,” he scraped out in a low, tightly controlled tone, “you mind waiting for us out front?”
“I’ll be in my truck,” his partner murmured, turning and making his way over to the door. But he stopped before he went outside, adding, “Don’t make me wait too long. You know what I need.”
“What did he mean by that?” she asked, as soon as Max had shut the door behind him. “What does he need?”
With one hand hooked around the back of his neck, and the other holding the strap of her backpack, Elliot answered her questions. “To know where to look for Vivian. He’s going to need you to tell him where you think she might go.”
Blinking, she took a step back, coming up hard against the edge of the counter. “I...I can’t,” she stammered. “Vivian left because she didn’t want anyone to find her.”
“After seeing her room, you really want her out there on her own?” he demanded, figuring that if he didn’t start being a little tougher with her, they could end up standing there and arguing in the small-ass kitchen all goddamn night.
She blanched, and her eyes went glassy. “No.”
“This is what Max and I do, Skye. Let him do his job, and let me do mine. I swear I won’t let these assholes get anywhere close to you.”
“But who are they? Everyone keeps talking about these mystery b-bastards, but won’t tell me anything. I just... I need to understand what the hell is going on.”
“I get that. I do. But there’s a lot that I can’t explain right now, because—” he paused and licked his lips “—because we don’t have the time. What I can tell you is that Max and I were asked by a friend in the FBI to look into a strange case the Feds are investigating. Seven women have recently gone missing on the East Coast, most from different towns, and the circumstances are all similar. We think they’re being collected by a group of males who are being paid to bring the women back to one man. We just don’t know who he is, or what he’s doing to the victims once he gets them.”
“And you think...me and Viv?” she asked awkwardly, her eyes so wide the irises were surrounded by white. “You think he wants these guys to kidnap us?”
“We got some vital intel that marked you both by name as the next targets, so yeah, that’s definitely what I think.” Lowering his hand, he stepped closer, narrowing his gaze on her upturned face as she tilted her head back. “I also think that if you’re not smart, there’s a good chance you’re going to find yourself in a situation that could end up getting you killed. And I don’t think it’d be a quick death. I think this psychotic son of a bitch would probably make you suffer a hell of a lot before he ever got around to taking your life.”
She immediately started crying again, her beautiful face crumpling with misery. Feeling like a complete jackass for goading her, Elliot drew the sobbing girl into his arms. He expected her to fight his touch, at least a little, but she was obviously desperate for the comfort, because her arms immediately wrapped around his waist as she buried her face against his chest.
“Christ, I’m sorry for sounding like such a jerk,” he rasped, holding her as tightly as he could as he rested his chin on top of her head. He wished he could just take this all away from her. The entire night, and all the shit that was sure to follow.
“If this is what’s really happening, then he m-must have seen Viv at the club.” Her voice was kind of muffled, since her face was still pressed against his chest, her tears soaking into his Henley, but he could still make out the husky words. “Men tend to go a little crazy when they see her. But...why me? What have I done to draw his attention?”
“You haven’t done anything. These bastards working for him are kidnapping beautiful women, and you’re a beautiful woman.”
“Oh, God. Just...don’t.” She pressed her hands against his chest and pushed, forcing him to either be an ass or let her go, so he lowered his arms. Moving back until she was pressed up against the counter again, she gave him a dark look that made him think she was considering if she should kick him or just hit him. “You don’t need to lie to me, Elliot. I’m...heavy. I’m not like Vivian. Not at all. I’m...fat, and I—”
“Whoa,” he cut in, holding his hand up. “Just wait and shut up for a second.”
It almost killed him to see that lush mouth pressed into a hard, flat line. “What?”
“Just don’t, okay? Don’t ever let me hear you call yourself that word again,” he growled. “I don’t know where you got a ridiculous idea like that in your head, but you are an incredibly beautiful woman, Skye. Every inch of you. Goddamn gorgeous.”
She bit her lip, face so flushed she looked like she’d been standing too long beneath a sweltering summer sun. Then she suddenly went into motion and started pacing the small kitchen, one hand pressed to her forehead, shoving back her hair, while the other arm wrapped around her middle. “I’m trying to figure out the right thing to do here, but I can’t even get my thoughts straight.” She flicked him a searching look, then lowered her gaze and kept right on pacing, her nervous energy so sharp he could feel it in the air. “I have no freaking idea if I should even believe what you’re telling me, and I’m sick with worry over Viv, and I... I know I should call the police, but I... I don’t... I mean, I wouldn’t even know what to say to them.”
Pushing his hands deep in his pockets, so he couldn’t get himself into trouble by grabbing her and hauling her right back into his arms, he said, “You don’t trust the cops because of Derek, right?”
A crease formed between her brows as she frowned. “Yeah. And Viv, she wouldn’t want that. She hates cops. I mean freaking hates them.”
“I can help you, Skye. I want to help you. We’ll figure this out and help Viv, too. All you