Loving Their Vixen Mate (Pack Wars Book 4) (33 page)

Cheryl sat up in bed, groggy and disoriented. She rubbed her eyes. “What’s going on?”

“Cheryl. It’s me. Mac.”

Cheryl leaned over and flicked on the bedside lamp. Her eyes finally opened wide. “Mac! What are you doing here?” Instead of the excitement Mac expected, there was fear in her cousin’s voice. While Cheryl’s hair was a bit wild, she looked good—healthy in fact. The relief helped Mac focus.

“I came to rescue you. Come on.” By now, Mac’s pulse had slowed enough to recognize the footsteps in the house.

“I can’t leave.”

What? “Yes, you can. I opened the window. Come on.” A few shouts came from behind the wall. “We have to go. Now!”

“No. You don’t understand. You need to get out of here.”

Cheryl was either drugged or brainwashed. Clearly, she didn’t understand the severity of the situation. Mac ripped the covers off her cousin and dragged her to her feet. “It’s you who doesn’t understand. Medlock is evil.”

“I know. He’ll kill my parents and your mom if I escape or tell anyone.”

So that was what was keeping her here. She had to make her cousin see reason. “I have friends. They’ll take care of Roger Medlock. Don’t worry.”

Cheryl looked around. “What about my things?”

“Nothing’s more important than our lives. Come on. We have to go.” Mac didn’t wait for her cousin to argue. She grabbed her by the hand and led her to the bathroom. This time, Mac turned on the light. “Climb through the window. And then run.”

“Where?”

“I’ll be right behind you.” Mac lifted the window. “I’ll help you up. There’s a chair on the outside. Go.”

With Mac’s help, Cheryl climbed out. Just as Mac was partway through, the bathroom door banged open, and a strong hand grabbed her foot and yanked her back in.

Oh, fuck.

E
ven after Cheryl’s feet hit the grass below, she had no idea where she was. It was dark, damp, and cold, and her thin nightgown wasn’t enough to keep her warm. Wrapping her arms around her body, she looked right then left, trying to figure out which way to go. Panic stole her breath. Was this smart? If she didn’t go back inside, Mr. Medlock would do as he threatened. Then again, she trusted Mac to do as she claimed.

Shouts came from the house in the back. They were looking for her. Decision made. She finally listened to that voice in her head that told her to run.

Her feet slipped on the wet grass and tears streamed down her cheeks, but deep inside, the need for freedom pushed her forward. As she neared the front of the house, streetlamps lit the way, but she wasn’t sure the best direction to go. The house across the street had lights on inside. If she knocked on that door and asked for asylum, would they let her in? Or would they escort her right back to their neighbor’s house? Roger Medlock might have made up some story about a mentally ill cousin staying with him. He could have warned all the neighbors about her attempts to escape.

Move!

Before she could take another step, a hand clamped over her mouth. Her fight instinct took over, and she elbowed the man in the gut. He grunted and pulled her closer to his chest. Her nightmare was happening all over again. She struggled, but it didn’t seem to have any effect on this guy. It was like she was in a straightjacket.

“I’m here to save you,” he whispered in her ear.

Seemed like a lot of people were telling her that, but why should she believe this guy? Was he one of the friends Mac mentioned?

Reality entered her fuzzy brain. Oh, no. Where was Mac? She was supposed to be right behind her. As Cheryl twisted around to find her cousin, the strong man lifted her up and ran with her down the road as if she didn’t weigh more than a large sack of flour. With his hand still over her mouth, she couldn’t yell at him to stop.

Another figure raced toward them. Was he here to help or harm? The man carrying her stopped and set her down. Even after her supposed savior removed his hand, her breaths came out so fast, she couldn’t even scream.

This new man grabbed her shoulders. “Cheryl? That really you? It’s Jay. Jay Wagner. I’m Kenzie’s cousin.” He lifted his head toward the streetlight to give her confirmation.

As she recognized her ally, the fight in her deflated. She swallowed hard to wet her mouth. “Jay? Oh, my God. Mac’s still in the house, I think.” If she’d escaped, her cousin would be here by now.

He slipped off his jacket and placed it over her shoulders. “Kenzie’s here?”

“Yes. She came in through a window and saved me. She was supposed to follow me out, but I didn’t see her. She told me to run and I did.” A sob escaped.

Jay looked back at the house. “We’ll look for her. Right now, we need to get you to safety.” He looked down. “Where are your shoes?”

“I didn’t have time to put them on. Mac practically shoved me out the window.”

“Jay,” the other man said. “We’ve got company.”

In one quick move, Jay lifted her up in a fireman’s hold and ran down the sidewalk with her. A car door opened and he gently tossed her in the back seat. “Stay down.”

A second later, the car took off. “What about Mac? She’s still back there.”

The other man drove. Jay sat up front, but he twisted around in the seat to face her. “Tell me what happened.”

She still hadn’t pieced everything together. “I was asleep when Mac nudged me and said I had to leave. I told her I couldn’t because Medlock said he’d kill my parents and her mom if I didn’t do as he said.”

“Fuck. I’ll make a few calls. We’ll make sure nothing happens to them.”

Mac’s cousin sounded so sure of himself that she found herself relaxing for a moment. “You have to call someone and help get Mac out. She’s in there with all those men. They’ll kill her.”

Jay glanced at the driver but didn’t say anything, yet a moment later, the driver nodded.

What was that all about? Cheryl slipped low on the seat fearing they’d be stopped at any minute, and Roger and his men would drag her back to the house. Medlock had been relatively nice so far, but with her attempted escape, he’d not only carry out his threat, but he might let the guards have her.

The men discussed where they wanted to take her. In the end, they decided on some military base, which was fine by her. A general would have a lot of pull to keep her safe.

A short while later, the car stopped. Dawn was finally making an appearance, which meant she didn’t dare sit up.

Jay leaned over the back seat again. “What size shoe do you wear? And what’s your clothing size?”

It took a second for his question to sink in. “I wear a seven medium for shoes, and a size eight for my clothes. I think. I’ve lost weight lately.”

Not that Mr. Medlock hadn’t fed her. He had. She just had no appetite. The lack of natural light and the tedious work he had her do had made her mind dull.

The driver slipped out. She was glad Jay stayed. She wasn’t ready to be alone. Cheryl wanted to sit up, but until she was on that military base, she wasn’t going to chance being caught.

“We’re taking you to a man I report to. Kenzie’s boyfriends work for him, too.”

The word boyfriends didn’t compute. “What are you talking about? Mac doesn’t have any boyfriends. She isn’t dating anyone.”

“You warm enough?”

Not really. Her feet were cold, but she’d survive. Thankfully, even in February, or maybe it was March, the air in Florida wasn’t freezing.

Wait. Why hadn’t he answered her question? Once she was on this base, she’d demand to know what the hell was going on.

A short while later, the other man returned and handed her a bag. “I did the best I could. I’m not used to buying female stuff.”

The man was nice. “Thanks.”

She opened the bag and pulled out a package of underpants, two jog bras, a couple of T-shirts, two pairs of yoga pants, socks, and sneakers. “They look fantastic.”

“You might want to wear the shoes at least,” Jay said. “If you want to put on anything else, we won’t look. Promise.” With that, he turned around.

Cheryl was cold, confused, and exhausted. She slipped down to the floor, between the back and front seat, and changed in the very cramped quarters. While the long sleeve T-shirt was baggy, she felt better being dressed. She sat back up on the seat, thinking it would be safe to do so. “Everything’s perfect. Thank you…”

“His name is Riley.”

“Thank you, Riley.” The driver waved but didn’t take his gaze off the road. “When are you going to send someone for Mac?” Cheryl still couldn’t get over how her cousin found her. And now Mac was trapped.

“That’s where we’re going now—to figure out the best and safest way to free her.”

“Oh.”

It made sense. Given that Mr. Medlock had so many men who worked for him, they could quickly defeat Jay and Riley if they just barged in. Bringing in the army would be the smartest move. “Do you think I can call my parents?” Not that she got along with them very well, but since she hadn’t called at Christmas, they’d be worried.

“We’ll see.”

“They won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“We’ll need you to debrief us first, so we can rescue Kenzie. Then we’ll see about that call.”

“Okay.” Cheryl leaned back and tried to make sense of everything. She hadn’t been harmed, for which she was grateful, but being kept a prisoner had made her feel grimy, vulnerable, and scared.

The car stopped, and the men escorted her inside a large brick façade. “I thought we were going to an Army base.”

Jay smiled. “The General is retired. We’ll try to explain everything once the dust settles.”

She didn’t need to have them spend time giving her a tour. They needed to find Mac. They led her into a conference room.
Whoa
. A man with gray hair, wearing camouflage pants and shirt, was seated at one end. Four other men, who all looked like body builders, surrounded the table.

The older gentleman’s eyes sparkled as he stood. “You must be Cheryl.”

“Yes.”

“Boy, are we glad to finally meet you. Have a seat. Can we get you some water, juice, or a power bar perhaps?”

Now that she was safe, food sounded good again. “Juice and a power bar would be fantastic.” She almost wanted to pinch herself to be sure she really had been freed.

The General walked over to a smaller table, pressed a button, and spoke into it. He then nodded to a man she hadn’t spotted when she walked in. A blueprint flashed up on the screen, and the General returned to his seat.

“I’ll forgo the introductions for now,” he said. “Time is critical. This is a blueprint of Medlock’s home. Can you tell us where you were kept? Or perhaps I should have asked, since your abduction, have you been here the whole time?”

“Yes.” She studied the floor plan. “Part of the house is missing.” She pushed back her chair and went up to the screen. It would be faster to show them. “There is another suite of rooms here. I can draw you a diagram.”

“Excellent.” He nodded to the man at the back who immediately produced a tablet and a stylus.

A miniature of the house was on the screen. She drew in the rest the best she could.

“Perfect. Now, we’d like more details.”

For the next hour, all of the men pummeled her with questions about how many men Medlock had, how often she was in the main part of the house, and other logistical questions. Unfortunately, Medlock hadn’t let her out until recently. “All my meals were brought to me in my room, so I’m afraid I don’t know that much.”

The door to the room burst open and two men rushed in. “Where is she?”

Cheryl twisted around. Both of them were large, but the one on the right was huge. And angry.

The man who everyone called the General raised his hand. “Take it easy, Sam. This is Cheryl. She’s been very helpful in outlining what’s happened.”

His face was a myriad of emotions. Both men ran over to her. The other man knelt on one knee and picked up her hand. “I’m Brandon. We’re…Mackenzie’s boyfriends. Is she okay?”

“I don’t know. She broke into the house this morning and got me out. She was supposed to follow, but when I looked behind me, she wasn’t there.” Her throat started to close up again and she sipped the rest of her juice.

Sam turned around. “I’m going to get her.”

“Sam,” the General commanded. “We have a plan. Sit down and I’ll explain.”

*     *     *

Mac was pretty much terrified. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to either. The ice that used to flow through her veins when she was on surveillance had melted. These two werewolves seemed rather unhappy that she’d taken their prize possession. She dubbed them Baldy and Chunky only because she didn’t have the heart to label them Heartless and Bastard, which would have been closer to the truth.

Baldy approached and grabbed her shirt. He leaned close, his breath smelling like day old fish. “Who the fuck are you?”

She debated lying, but once they called Medlock, he’d know. According to Jay, her Hannah Atkins pseudonym had been compromised. “Mackenzie.”

The man let go of her shirt, hopefully because she’d told the truth. “Where’s Cheryl?”

“I’m not sure.”

Baldy backhanded her across the face. Fuck, but that stung. No way would she give them the satisfaction of breaking down or reaching up and swiping the blood from her lip. The warm liquid trickled down her chin. Fuckers. Mac focused on the fact Cheryl had escaped. Mac could handle these two a lot better than her cousin could.