Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
No. She was over at Markle’s because of her fucking job. Which meant she was all alone. The DEA didn’t send someone undercover unless they had just cause. That meant they had something on Markle. Something big enough that warranted constant surveillance. Even having someone pose as a friendly next-door neighbor and offer wine in order to get intel.
It was easy to follow her path. A human could have followed the knocked down grass in the moonlight, but my wolf followed her scent. Strong and leading me right to her. Right to Markle’s fancy new barn.
My wolf hearing picked up the voices even before I could see inside. The air was still, and I couldn’t miss their words.
“You don’t want to kill me,” Willow said. “You definitely don’t want to add a murder charge to trafficking of narcotics.”
Oh shit. Markle had found her. Or knew she wasn’t just a hot neighbor.
“Oh, I’m not going to kill you,” Markle countered. “You’re right. I don’t need that kind of rap. I’m going to give you to Murrieta for his flesh trade. He has a special affinity for white women. Especially those he feels have crossed him. Torture is his specialty.”
My wolf snarled. I saw red. It took all my will to keep from shifting right there. My mate was being threatened. Not just threatened, worse. But I needed to keep my head because Markle had a gun, and my mate wouldn’t survive a bullet.
I had no fucking idea who Murrieta was, but the words flesh trade and torture stood out. I’d thought Markle was an asshole neighbor for putting his cattle on the Shefield land.
I’d been blind to how evil he really was. Willow wanted to bring him down. Hell, the federal government did.
Now I did, too. There was no fucking way he was going to be breathing much longer.
I went to the barn door, staying in the shadows to peer inside. Willow was on her knees, Markle standing above her with a gun to her head. My wolf shoved to the surface again, trying to take control. He needed to save her, but I shoved him back down. The gun held me back from tearing out his throat with my fangs. If I startled him, he could shoot her in a second.
I had to redirect him away from her. I was a wolf. He could shoot me full of holes like Swiss cheese, and I’d heal. I looked around on the ground, found a small rock. I tossed it into the barn but lobbed it hard so that it hit well past them.
The thunk was loud when it hit the floor, both Markle and Willow whipping their heads toward the sound, their gazes away from me. Willow took the opportunity to push Markle’s gun to the side and hop to her feet. With both her hands, she gripped his wrist to keep the gun pointing away from her.
I ran into the barn to help, but Markle had strength and fury on his side. He bent his elbow and with his free arm, grabbed Willow by the back of her neck, yanking her toward him.
The gun went off before I made it halfway to them. I saw her wide eyes, the way her shoulders slumped and knew she’d been hit. Markle released her, and she fell to the ground.
I howled, my wolf taking over. I got to Markle and grabbed him, ready to rip his head from his body. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Willow lean to the side and grab her gun which she had at her back.
She raised it and fired, point blank at the center of Markle’s forehead. Bullseye. The shot had gotten within a foot of me, but I hadn’t been afraid she’d hit me. Sure, there had been no time to react, but there was no better shot than my mate. Like he had with Willow, I let Markle fall to the floor. There was no question he was dead. The back half of his head was missing.
I didn’t give Markle another look but dropped to my knees next to Willow, looked her over. Assessed.
“Fuck,” I croaked. Blood quickly spread across her torso. I lifted the bottom of her shirt, saw the entry wound.
She whimpered and her body shook. Shock. Fear.
“Willow, no” I breathed. Fear cut through me like never before. We were twenty miles from town. Twenty miles from the hospital, and she’d been shot in the gut.
I leaned over her, looked down into her face. Sweat dotted her brow, the color quickly leaching from her face.
“Hang on. Don’t you fucking die on me now,” I swore.
She panted, her hand coming to her wound to cover it. She hissed. “It hurts. Fuck.”
I grabbed my phone. Dialed. My fingers were shaking so bad I almost dropped the phone as I lifted it to my ear. “Boyd. Willow’s been shot. Bad. Bring Audrey to Markle’s barn. Now!”