ROMANCE: PARANORMAL ROMANCE: Coveted by the Werewolves (Paranormal MMF Bisexual Menage Romance) (New Adult Shifter Romance Short Stories) (134 page)

"The details are inside," the office cut in. "Is Cassidy Fole in? I have a request to escort her home.
Cassidy!"
She shouted the last word, projecting her voice past Will, trying to root the young woman out. What the hell was that about?

Sheila emerged from the kitchen, eyes filled with tears threatening to spill over. "She's gone out the back door!"

"What?" Will started walking toward the kitchen. The cop was backing away and murmuring into her walkie, presumably putting out an APB.

Sure enough, the back door was ajar, and the only car in the front was the idling policewoman's.

"She told me she was going home to think, but that I should ask you about the...assault?" Sheila's voice turned up cautiously at the end of the sentence, and she studied his face for a reaction.

He'd forgotten all about the envelope and the case, truthfully, as soon as he'd seen Cassidy was gone. He held up the envelope for Sheila to tear open and peer at. Her owlish face frowned as she frantically scanned the details. A needle of fear sank into his chest, ice cold, and started to melt and trickle into his bloodstream. He could lose his license.

"Clarissa Welt," Sheila said. "There's a name. Says here, five thousand feet...doctor!" Her formal nature took the forefront while she panicked, and the word came out a yelp. "Her work, school and home...you'll have to move. And move the practice. Or...close it." Her green eyes were huge and trembling.

Will ripped the paper from her hands, reading the addresses and trying to remember the lay of the town. She attended the community college, and live just outside of town, a half mile from his property. She worked at one of the gas stations, three quarters of a mile from his home. His vision started to ebb away, and his focus spiraled to a pinpoint until all he could see was the name of the woman claiming he'd harmed her. Clarissa Welt. Clarissa Welt. When had he even seen a Clarissa Welt? The name did seem familiar, so she was definitely a patient. He was ashamed, then; he was usually so proud of his ability to remember every patient he'd seen. It had been a busy week, though---

"Sheila!"

The woman jumped, and Will almost laughed in his hysteria. "Clariss Welt, when did I see her?"

"Well," Sheila thought. "Just last...no. This morning." Her brow furrowed. "She was your second patient. But you were---"

"In my office," Will said, the pressure in his head beginning to fade away. "Delia saw her, not me."

Sheila was nodding slowly. "So you couldn't have assaulted her.” She looked sad, and then determined. "I'll talk to the police for you. That must be what Cassidy was talking about. But how did she know?" Sheila was holding her glasses in her

Hands, twirling them by the arms nervously.

              "Her father," Will said immediately, bile churning in his gut. "The phone call. He was probably warning her to come home, or by dragged home by the cops. He got some poor girl to fall for whatever trash he was peddling, and got her to agree to bring charges against me. "

              "But that wouldn't work," Sheila said desperately. She couldn't ignore the corruption, but she didn't want to believe it. "The girl didn't even see you!"

              "Either she didn't tell him, or she doesn't care." He thought about the policewoman, with her heavy shades and stoic expression. "The cop is in his pocket, too. I think I saw them together at the diner, when we first met. He just wanted to put on a show good enough to scare me away from his daughter." A lump formed in his throat, and the back of his eyes burned with rage.

              "Well," Sheila said, patting his arm. "I'll stand by you. It can't be like this anymore. Even his congregation are starting to whisper."

              Will bore the comfort numbly. "I'm going to see her," he decided. He walked back into the house, Sheila trotting after him. The food was on the table, completely forgotten. He picked up his keys and headed toward the door. "Stay here, please, Sheila. I shouldn't be long."

              He grabbed his jacket and raced out the door. He was hoping the minister would be at Cassidy's apartment, too. He had some words for him. Will practiced his tough voice as he got in the car.

Soon he was racing along the curved back road leading from his home to the main road. It was quicker than taking the residential streets first. His fingers gripped the steering wheel until they lost their feeling, and he was counting to 100 to give himself time to calm down. He turned a sharp right and hit the brakes immediately, all efforts at calming himself driven from his mind: Cassidy's truck was overturned on the road in front of him.

              Later, he would swear the entire thing move in slow motion. He also swore there was a guardian angel looking over him that day, because as he pulled Cassidy's bloodied form from the front seat, he felt the weight of something square and boxy knock against his side. His hands were shaking, but his fingers found her pulse, strong and sure, and he let out a strangled cry. There were no other cars on the road, and no one within shouting distance. Her green dress was stained at the top with blood, and he saw a burn on her neck the length of his palm. Cuts covered her face, neck and chest, and the palms of her hands were completely red. The slit in her dress revealed a deep cut about six inches long, and his heart stopped. He found his hands punching 9-1-1 on his phone, heard himself tell the operator their location and that it was dire. Yes, he was a doctor. No, he didn't have his kit on him. Will tried to tie the wound off the sleeves of his jacket, then tried pressing on it to slow the flow. Nothing. He was covering her leg with his jacket again when the ebony case slid out, clattering on the pavement. Will let out noise---half sob, and half laughter. His life really was like a bad movie.

              Three minutes later, an ambulance arrived, the lights and wail of the sirens seeming much further away than they were. He was stitching the gash on her leg, and they pulled him away.

              "I'm a doctor," he said numbly. He was watching them load Cassidy on to a stretcher, lift her into the ambulance. Then his vision snapped to black, and he felt the pavement kiss the back of his head.

              He was aware of something in his right arm. He tried to move it, and someone stilled him with a gentle
ssh
noise. He groaned, opening his eyes to see bright florescent lights and the stark white cleanliness of a hospital. A nurse was eyeing his vitals. She smiled at him when she saw he was awake.

              "How are you feeling, doctor?" She asked.

              Will tried to speak. He finally got it on the third try. "How long have I been here?"

              "Three hours," said the nurse. "Simple dehydration and exhaustion. You have to remember to eat. And you knocked your head pretty good."

              "Is he awake?" Sheila's voice came from behind a thick white curtain. The curtain separated, and her worried face poked through. She grinned excitedly. "He is! Do you want to see him?"

              Will wondered who she was talking to, and then the curtains spread apart. He gasped, then groaned, pain shooting through his sides. It was Cassidy, face red and covered with cuts, but smiling warmly and looking as though he were her favorite person in the world. Will ripped out his IV before the nurse could stop him.

              "Let me get you a wheelchair!" She said, panicking, and he let her push him into the canvas seat before she wheeled him over.

              William's eyes were roving over Cassidy, unable to believe she was alert and healthy. He'd seen her pulse slowing, and how much blood she'd lost. The nurse pushed him to her bedside, and she grasped his hand immediately.

              "I'm so glad you were there," Cassidy said, starting to cry. He wanted to stand and hug her, but his legs were still noodly from the collapse. "You saved my life. I swerved to avoid a rabbit, and then I was just flipping. No one would have come for an hour, and I would have been gone."

              Will knew all of this in the back of his mind, but hearing the words aloud made them real. He was glad he was sitting, because he may have collapsed again. The world stopped trembling as took deep breaths, trying to remind himself of his solidity with the weight of Cassidy's limbs. He stroked the soft skin of her hand, comforting them both.

              A sound from the hallway startled them, and Cassidy looked up, suddenly nervous. William looked out to see her father, carefully guarding the expression on his face.

              "He's not coming in," Cassidy said quickly. "He knows you saved my life, and before I crashed, I was talking to him. He's not allowed near me until he can deal with me being my own person." Her brown eyes were full of warmth. 

              "He's just going to listen?" Will said, dumbfounded.

              Cassidy's eyes were cold then. "I know some things. He'll listen." The chill in her gaze thawed, and she turned back to Will.

"Hey, it's a good thing I got you that gift when I did." She moved the sheets and pulled up her gown, revealing the gash the hospital surgeon had expertly repaired. "They said you definitely made a difference." She was smiling, but her eyes were filling again. Will felt his heart swell painfully.

              "You're ok now," he murmured, wheeling himself closer. "I don't know what I would have done..." he trailed off, watching her eyes fill with tears again. His stomach was in a knot. She seemed to be readying to speak, and she opened her mouth, then closed it again.

              Cassidy leaned forward, straining to reach him. Will sat up, his heart racing. He expected her to whisper something as he inched closer, but instead she kept moving until her lips pressed against his. His heart skipped a beat, then set off racing like he'd just received an electric shock. He clasped her other hand, pulling himself toward her so he could sink into the heady citrus scent she gave off and the sensation of her lips. It was like peeking into heaven.

              She pulled back gently. "I'm ok because of you," she said. Her hand pushed his thick hair back from his forehead tenderly. "I'm still here. You stitched me back together. I was literally thrown into your path to save. Still gonna run from me?"

              Will smiled, feeling giddy and light hearted for the first time in days. "No."

              Cassidy blinked, surprise showing clearly on her features. "Really?" She let out a whoop, and the nurse gave a disapproving glare from the hall. "Was it my near death experience?"

              Will looked into her honey brown eyes, thinking about the way he felt when he pulled her from the wreckage. He'd never been so cold or numb in his life.

              "No," he said simply. "It was mine.

              Sheila, who had been lingering on the edge of the room, let out a snort that pulled both of their gazes to her.

              "Too corny?" Will asked.

              Sheila was nodding, but her eyes were also shimmering with tears. "Definitely." She shuffled out of the room, shaking her head and grumbling as she walked past Minister Fole. Will smiled and looked back at Cassidy, who had the same foolish grin painted on her lips. He couldn't believe everything that had happened, and how comfortable he was to arrive in this moment.  Minister Fole was pretending not to watch from his chair in the hallway, but Will wasn't worried. If this were a movie, the threat had been neutralized, he'd gotten the girl, and there was no room for a sequel. It was almost too neat. An attendant pulled the curtain around the two of them, and Will listened as she and a passing nurse talked softly. Background players. All they needed was a title drop.

              "Is that tray for the Fole girl?" a nurse said.

              "Who?"

              "The preacher's daughter."

Will smiled, thinking to himself:
Roll credits.

THE END

G

Going Deep

             
Jen had decided at the last second to go on the cruise with her parents. She knew it was a decision that she might soon regret, but she didn't have anything better to do in the meantime. The law firm she worked at was in the middle of a two week work stop after the passing of the founding partner, something that Jen understood but still found a little bit annoying—wouldn't he have wanted everyone to get over it and get back to making money? But no one else seemed to think that way, and she knew that this wasn't the kind of thing that was worth rocking the boat over. And if her work life was at a stand still, her personal life was the aftermath of a tsunami.

              Her long time husband had left her and taken the kids. He hadn't even so much as a left a note behind letting her know what was up. Instead he'd went behind her back, while she'd been busy working seventy hour weeks. Not so much as a note had been left behind to explain what had been doing through his mind when he'd gathered up their three children, their things, and left. Jen wasn't even sure where they'd gone to, not even what part of the country. Now her home stood like something that had been abandoned, because it had. All of the hopes and dreams Jen and her husband had once had were gone, up in smoke.