Page 127 of Unwilling Wolf

Garret leaned back in the chair and cocked his pistol. “Come to finish the job?” he asked.

Clint put his hands in the air and murmured, “Just want to talk, is all. Your wolves took my guns at the door.”

Garret glanced to the den, and sure enough, Wells, Burke, and Cookie came to stand stoically, ready for anything.

Clint Jennings had seen better days, and looked as if he’d aged ten years in the past week. His hair was unkempt, and his silver beard was scraggly. Even his eyes held little life.

“Burke, watch Eliza. I need to take care of something.”

He stood and gestured to Clint and Anna to proceed. No way in hell was he leaving Clint in here alone with Eliza for even a moment.

They moved to the front yard, and Garret stretched his back. God, he’d almost forgotten what sunshine felt like. “What do you want, Father of my Maker?” he demanded.

Clint huffed and offered a humorless smile. “You remember.”

“Do I remember Wyatt Turning me? It’s burned into my mind. My wolf used to feel protective of him and your people. I don’t feel that way anymore.”

Clint narrowed his eyes, and a soft growl rattled his chest.

“Want to go?” Garret asked. He had nothing to lose right now, and a good fight might actually do his wolf good. He was getting used to the bloodlust.

“I want to know what happened to my son,” his Maker responded. “I want to know the real story. I want to hear the truth and lies in your voice when you tell me.”

“I have no reason to lie, and besides, lying isn’t really my thing. I’m not a Jennings.”

A flash of anger took Clint’s eyes. There he was. That old wolf had some fight in him yet. “How did he die?”

“Would you like me to start at the part where he and your men kept thieving cattle from me night after night, and I still didn’t come knocking on your door? Or the part where my wife came out for one night just to spend time with me, and your men, Wyatt included, hurt her? They were trying to Turn her for your Pack. My wife. And then they tried to kill us all while we were trying to protect her.” He lifted his voice to a roar. “In our own territory!” Garret’s wolf was scratching at his skin to kill this motherfucker. He paced away, and back, voice more under control. “Or do you want me to talk about how Wyatt came into our territory with damn near all of your Pack and blew a hole through my wife with his pistol? Want me to describe it to you? Want me to tell you how I sank my fuckin’ teeth into his jugular five seconds too late? Five seconds after I watched him pull the trigger on my wife in our home? In our fucking home! Want me to describe how much blood she lost? Or how close I held her to my body while she was giving me her last requests? Or how when her eyes rolled back in her head, how hard I begged her to stay with me?”

Anna had gone pale. “Excuse me,” she said, and put a handkerchief to her lips with a trembling hand.

Garret swung a steely gaze back to Clint. “You remember when your boy approached my wife at the dance? She had long sleeves on during that hot night to cover the damage done by trying to escape your people. She was hurt. Your son ordered that.”

Clint’s eyes narrowed. “I didn’t tell him to do any of that.”

“But he did, and I didn’t kill him for it. How many cattle do you have in your herd right now with my brand on them? Huh? Be honest. How many?”

Clint didn’t answer, which was answer enough. Any denial would come out an obvious lie.

Garret snarled his lips over his teeth and edged closer to his Maker. “Wyatt came looking for trouble on my land. Came here with a dozen wolves, waving a gun at me, and in the end, he shot her, and he shot to kill. If I had it all to do again, I wouldn’t put him down fast. I would torture him. You can hear the fuckin’ truth in my voice, I know you can. Now you tell me, Mr. Jennings, if someone did those injustices to your late wife, or to your daughter here, would you let them live?”

Clint held his gaze for a few seconds, but then dropped his eyes and shook his head. “I daresay I would kill him and his entire family.”

“And yet here you are. Livin’ and breathin’.”

“I have to avenge him, you know,” Clint murmured.

“No, you don’t.”

“I do. You won’t live long enough to have a son of your own, so you can’t understand, and I can’t explain it to someone who could never understand. I Challenge you, Garret Shaw.”

“Are you serious?” he gritted out.

“I must.”

“No, you don’t have to fuckin’ do this! I don’t want your people, Clint! I’m not trying to expand my Pack. I’m good. I have my wolves, I have my mate. I don’t want any of you to set foot on my land ever again.”

“You’re speaking as if you know you’ll win,” Clint rumbled. “Perhaps it will be I who takes your Pack.”

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