The Beast in Him (23 page)

“Thank you.”

“Sure.”

Jessie climbed into his truck and closed the door.

“Thank you for the coffee and muffin, Mrs. Haier.”

She smiled at Smitty. “You’re more than welcome.”

Smitty stepped into his truck, started her up, and pulled out. As soon as they got to the corner, Jessie called into her office. First she called Phil. It had to be the strangest conversation he’d heard in a long time.

“The Spanish have sent their Armada to destroy us. Yes. It’s time to call in the fleet. I want them blasted out of the water by the end of next week. Good. Thank you, Admiral.”

When he glanced at her while sitting at a light, she gave him that big dog grin, before dialing her assistant. That, thankfully, was a much more logical discussion. Jessie went over messages, gave instructions on who to call back and who to ignore. As they finished their conversation, Jessie instructed her assistant to contact the CEO of Lathan Industries and to remind him of how he’d said, “‘I owe you one’. Now it’s time for him to pay up.”

She shut off the phone and Smitty stopped at another light. “I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?”

“Why are you helping the Haiers?”

“That poor woman is blissfully average like the rest of us. And she has a daughter with a one hundred and ninety-five IQ.”

Smitty blew out a breath. “Wow.”

“She has no idea what to do with her. And the kid is bitter because her old man bailed. Blah, blah, blah. Let me tell you, nothing is worse than a bored, bitter genius.” Jess stuck her phone back into the pocket of the jacket she wore. “I figure we get the mom straight. Then we can get that kid into some program that will keep that brain of hers occupied. Then when she turns eighteen—that brain will belong to me.”

He glanced at her in surprise. “What?”

“That kid is going to make my company a fortune. I just have to keep her out of federal prison long enough.” She snorted. “What? Did you think I was doing all this out of the goodness of my heart?”

“Well... yeah. I did.”

“She’s not a stray puppy, Smitty.”

“Puppies. Kids. They’re all the same to you when they’re needy.”

She grinned. “Quiet yourself.”

He reached for her with one arm. “Come here, darlin’. Let ol’ Smitty show you how much you’re appreciated.”

“Shut up,” she said again, slapping at his arm.

Laughing, Smitty turned onto the main highway. And as they drove out of town, the skies opened up.

CHAPTER 19

So busy responding to an e-mail from her phone, Jess didn’t realize that Smitty had pulled over until he said, “Do you ever live outside your head?”

“What?” She looked up and around. “Why did we stop? Wow, it’s really raining.”

“Yeah, it’s really raining. Thought we’d get some lunch and hope that the worst of it will blow over. Interested?”

“Yeah, sure.” She looked around again, getting her bearings. “Uh... not sure we want to stop in this town, though.”

“Why?”

“It’s bear run.”

“The sign said ‘Martin County.’”

“That’s not the name. It’s a bear-run town. Literally, bears run it.”

Smitty shrugged. “So?”

“This isn’t like Smithville. They’re not friendly bears, Smitty. Not friendly at all. They don’t like outsiders.”

“Darlin’, we’re stopping for lunch. Not taking over territory.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Woman, you know how I get when I’m hungry.”

“Okay. Okay. ”

Still thinking this was a bad idea, Jess stepped out of the truck and followed Smitty inside the steakhouse restaurant.

It took a while to get her comfortable. But when she realized the place was run by full-humans she seemed to relax.

They ordered two inhumanly large steaks, rare, and several side orders they shared. Once they finished eating, they relaxed back and just talked. It was nice.

“You’re actually going to adopt Johnny?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Didn’t you say he was going to be seventeen soon?”

“This upcoming weekend.”

“Then doesn’t that make him a little old?”

Jess sipped her coffee. “He has to know he belongs. That he’s got family. I don’t want him leaving at eighteen and thinking he doesn’t have anybody.”

“What does he say about it?”

Jessie stared at him so long, he finally asked, “You did ask him about this, didn’t you?”

“I thought I did.” She squinted, trying to remember. “But I think we got sidetracked by brownies.”

Smitty rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. “Okay. Let’s try this. He’s wolf.”

“So?”

“He doesn’t really belong in a dog Pack, darlin’.”

“Who says?”

“Look, I’m not trying to get you upset. And I’m sure you guys can be pretty tough when you wanna be, but you need to be realistic. He’s a wolf. At eighteen those genes are gonna kick in full force.”

“And you don’t think we can handle it?”

“I think you can try.”

“Unfortunately, Smitty, no wolf Packs wanted him. Children’s Services tried to place him with wolves and they wouldn’t take him in. We were the only ones who would.”

“What about his parents’ Packs?”

“Don’t know who they are. His mom had some... troubles. She cut herself off from her family.”

“His father?”

“No idea who he is and we’ve tried to track him down. Bottom line, all he’s got is us.”

Smitty cleared his throat. “You know, I can help.”

“Help? With what?”

“With the boy. You know, if he needs advice or something. I can help.”

Jessie stared at him again.

“Hello?”

She put her coffee cup down on the table. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She said it very politely and with a wariness he didn’t much like.

“Is there a problem?”

“No.” She glanced out the window. “Rain stopped.”

“Looks that way.”

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He motioned to the waitress for the check.

“Since you took care of lunch last time, I’ll get this.”

Jessie threw down a black credit card on the silver-plated bill holder the waitress brought by.

She did it casually, without a thought. No worries there about her last big purchase.

They finished paying up and headed outside.

“Think we can stop by that Starbucks up the road before we head home?” she asked.

Smitty dug into his jacket pocket to fish out his keys. “Yeah, sure.” He’d just snagged the keys from his pocket when he walked right into the back of her.

“Jessie?”

He looked up and that’s when he saw them, leaning against and resting on his pickup truck.

Bears. About eight of them, none of them smaller than seven feet. Great. Just what he needed. Really big, really cranky bears.

Jess had been afraid of this. The local bear population was not friendly. They actually didn’t get along with each other either, but they teamed up in a heartbeat against outsiders. They welcomed full-humans, but cats and canines had no place in Martin County.

Smitty gently swiped his hand down her back before stepping around her.

“Can I help y’all?”

The one lying directly on top of Smitty’s hood seemed to be the biggest problem, his seven-five stature not withstanding. A polar bear, he had his hands behind his head as he stared up at the sky.

“I just gotta wonder, what brings a couple of dogs to our territory.”

“Just stopping to have lunch until the rains passed.” Smitty shrugged. “They’ve passed.”

“Yeah, that’s true. But I have to say I’m getting pretty tired of you people traipsing through our town.”

Smitty stood next to his truck. He looked calm, cool, completely rational, so Jess stepped behind a tree and out of the line of fire.

The problem was these Northerners had never experienced a true Smith wolf attack. They didn’t play like the other Packs. Besides, the dumb bastard had fucked with Smitty’s truck. You never fucked with a man’s truck.

“You know, dog,” the bear continued, “I’m thinking it’s about time we made an examp—”

Smitty didn’t even bother to let him finish. He just grabbed the bear by his foot and yanked all seven feet five inches and probably a good three hundred or more pounds of him off the hood of his truck, slamming the man face down on the concrete. Jess distinctly heard bone breaking. Probably the bear’s nose. Maybe some ribs.

Calmly, Smitty explained, “That’s for trying to threaten me.”

Before the polar’s companions could move, Smitty unleashed the claws of his right hand and brought it down on the bear’s Achilles tendon—shredding it with one swipe.

“And that’s for denting the hood of my truck with your fat ass,” he added, still calm, over the bear’s howls of unspeakable pain.

One of the females stared at Smitty as he stood up. She towered over him, but the fear on her face matched everyone else’s. “You... You’re a Smith, aren’t you?”

Smitty flicked his hand, the blood flying pretty much everywhere. “Why do you ask?”

“I met you people before. Smiths.” She said it with disgust and undeniable fear.

“Yeah, I’m a Smith. Out of Tennessee. And I want y’all off my truck.”

They got off his truck all right. They moved like lightning.

“Jessie Ann.”

She walked out from behind the tree and over to the truck. She didn’t run. She didn’t have to. The Smith name alone had put the fear of God into these people, parting them like the Red Sea.

Smitty held the door open for her and she stepped into the truck. He closed the door and walked around to his side. He got in, started her up, and backed out.

No one stopped them. No one did anything. And she had no doubt no one would.

Smitty drove about five miles until he saw an old gas station. So old it was still full service. He told the kid pumping gas to fill his tank and then disappeared into the bathroom.

After ten minutes, Jess followed him. She knew that look on his face. Remembered it clearly. He got it anytime he had to use the brutal tactics drummed into him by Bubba Smith. The bear had forced that on Smitty, and now she had one less-than-happy wolf on her hands.

When she opened the bathroom door, which he hadn’t bothered to lock, she found him standing at the sink and staring into it. He hadn’t turned on the water, and blood still covered his right hand.

Jess slowly walked up to him, knowing better than to startle him or make any sudden moves. When she felt confident he knew she was standing next to him, she turned on the water in the sink and took his right hand in both of hers. She held them under the water, slowly washing the bear’s blood from his fingers. She took her time, grateful they had liquid soap from a pump rather than a bar she’d be loathe to use. Especially since this place didn’t scream “antibacterial clean” to her.

When she removed all the blood from his right hand, she washed his left for the hell of it. Then she took paper towels from the stack on the counter and dried his hands. Once done with that, she dried her own hands and tossed the paper towels away. She grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and forced him to face her.

“Smitty?” When he didn’t answer her, she said, “Bobby Ray. Look at me.”

He did and she literally forced herself not to run. This was Bobby Ray. He’d never hurt her. Even with his eyes shifted to wolf, he’d never hurt her. She knew that.

So when his hand whipped out and grabbed her by the back of the neck, she didn’t even scream.

He had to stop. He had to stop now. But, Lord knew, he couldn’t. He couldn’t make himself stop. All she’d shown him was the ultimate kindness in the last ten minutes. The kind of kindness only a dog could show. She should be terrified of him. She should be screaming and fighting him. But she wasn’t. She just kept staring up at him with those big, brown, innocent eyes. Those innocent eyes trusting him to do the right thing.

He didn’t. Instead, he slammed her back against the wall and forced his mouth on hers. Her arms flailed for a moment, but instead of fighting him off, she wrapped them around his neck and pulled him closer. He kissed Jessie hard, his tongue pushing its way in, demanding she respond. She did. She moaned and gasped and held him tighter.

Her hands dug into his hair and one leg wrapped around his waist. She writhed against him, letting him know she was all his. To do with as he would. Anything. She trusted him enough to give him anything and everything.

Snarling, Smitty pulled back, spun her around so she faced the wall. His hands unsnapped and unzipped her jeans in seconds, pulling them down until they were around her knees. He slipped his hands between her legs, his fingers sliding inside her. He growled like a rabid animal when he found her already wet and hot. He pulled his fingers back and stroked her clit. In less than thirty seconds he had her coming, crying out his name as he took her over again. With his other hand he yanked her jacket past her shoulder. He licked his lips, his fangs bursting from his gums. He leaned over her, wrapping his jaw around her exposed flesh.

She trembled in his arms. Trembled and panted and waited. Waited for him to take her like this. To do what the females of the Smith Pack referred to as the Smith mate-maul. Was he really going to do this to Jessie Ann? The woman who’d just washed the blood off his hands and accepted the fact that he’d mercilessly ripped the Achilles tendon off another being?

No. She deserved better than this.

Using absolutely everything he’d learned from his military training, he let her go.

He pulled his hands away and stepped away from her, like a recovering addict stepping away from his heroin.

Jessie looked over her shoulder at him. “Smitty?”

“Get dressed. I’m taking you home.” He walked to the sink and washed his own damn hands this time. By the time he dried them and turned around, she’d already walked out.

She wanted to cry. She really did. But she learned early on from her days in Smithtown that the quickest way to lose respect was to cry. So she kept her tears for her Pack because they understood her and they accepted her.

She couldn’t wait to get home. She wanted her people. She wanted out of this truck. She wanted away from the bastard who just broke her heart.