Page 17 of Destined Prey
Hot damn!Ben was moving before he’d even finished the thought. It didn’t take him long to reach the barn, even being careful. There wasn’t anyone in the vicinity watching for him.
In the distance, he heard another gunshot. Ben hesitated on his approach to the barn. He was by a corral, with the water trough for cover. He wasn’t in sight of anyone, or in danger of being shot.
Still, he held himself in place, listening, something not quite registering that should have. Then he heard it, and recognized the sound of footsteps. He hunkered down lower, as if he could sink into the dirt. Whoever was approaching was definitely coming his way.
The scent hit him next—rich, redolent of man and lust, spice and heat.
And just that quickly, Ben’s cock hardened again. He knew without a doubt who was closing in on him. It wasn’t just need. It was recognition, sharp and absolute, the way the earth knows the pull of the moon. Jack’s voice slid down Ben’s spine like a touch, tightening every muscle, steadying his heartbeat even as his body trembled. This wasn’t lust anymore—it was something rawer, fiercer, terrifying in its certainty. When he heard Jack’s voice, need hit him so hard, he whined before he clenched his teeth down, hard. If Jack hadn’t known he was there, Ben had almost certainly just given himself away.
Chapter Eleven
“Rhett’s going to kill me,” Jack muttered as he approached the corral. And that couldn’t possibly have been a whine he’d just heard.
He was being a fool, and he knew it, yet he couldn’t turn away. His heart pounded and fear made his spine itch, his breath short, but even so, he had to see the wolf or coyote—he wasn’t sure which—that had been sneaking across the corral.
“I’m gonna die. I’m gonna be eaten by the big bad wolf,” Jack continued, his voice shaking slightly. He glanced at the baseball bat in his left hand and winced. He reallywasan idiot, and one that would likely regret his refusal to grab a rifle before stepping outside. The night seemed to press in around him, all cool breath and dry grass and the faint metallic tang of the trough. Every small sound—a fence wire pinging, a distant clatter from the barn—made the fine hairs on his forearms lift. Common senseyelled to turn around. Something softer tugged him forward anyway.
He should have stayed in the house, munching on the chocolate candies he’d picked up when he and Rhett had gone to get more groceries the day after the run-in with Ben.
Ben.Jack couldn’t get the man off his mind. Thinking his name made heat rise under Jack’s skin, ridiculous in the chill air. That voice in the alley had wrapped around him and settled low in his belly, and he hated that the memory steadied him now when fear should’ve had him running. He’d been thinking about Ben while fixing a crockpot roast for dinner later when all the commotion started outside.
Jack paused, some semblance of common sense gripping him. “What the hell am I doing? Chaos. Today is made of chaos and crazy!”
The day had started out normal enough. Then there’d been panicked cattle and shouting about a rabid wolf or coyote or coywolf—Jack hadn’t caught all of that part.
And Rhett had ordered Jack to stay inside, which was annoying as fuck. Like Jack was a delicate flower in need of protecting. Irked as he’d been, he hadn’t argued with his brother.
Rhett had been working harder than ever since he’d fired the two bigoted hands, Aldan and Vince. He’d found one new hire, Javon Eddings, but still needed another hand besides Javon, Ernesto, Phil, and Jerry.
That, or he needed to make at least two of those guys full-time employees. Jack was planning on going over the account books to see if that was possible.
Jack shook his head. “What is wrong with me, seriously?” He eyed the bat again. “Like this is going to help against a rabid animal?”
Despite his attempt at being logical, his feet seemed to move of their own accord, and he was headed to the corral again. “Please don’t bite me. Please don’t kill me, either. Just, please don’t hurt me.” He kept repeating that refrain. He heard another whine, louder, and his heart skipped a few beats. “Good puppy? Uh. Don’t eat me.”
There was a third whine, and Jack felt the need to hurry up and find the critter. He brought the bat up and held it close to his chest. “I mean it. If you bite me, I’m gonna besopissed off!”Is it hurt? Did they shoot it? Shit! What if itisrabid? But don’t rabid animals act all crazy and frothy? They don’t hide behind a water trough and whine. I hope. God, I really hope they don’t.
“If this is some kind of trap, if you’re smart enough to lure me to you so you can have a meal, I guess you deserve it, then.” Jack snorted. “And I get a Darwin Award for being a complete fuckwit.”
He was six feet away from the corral and took a deep breath. “I’ve got a bat. Don’t make me use it.”
What sounded like a snort-snuffle from the creature was followed by the tips of two ears appearing over the edge of the trough. Those ears turned and twitched. Jack eased one step closer, slow enough he could hear his boot sole whisper against packed dirt. The animal’s focus never wavered. It didn’t read like wild aggression—more like intent. Curious. Aware. Fixing him in place without baring a single tooth.
“It’s just me,” Jack assured the critter. “Just me, without a gun, all stupid and ready to scream like a sissy if you attack me. I might be able to kill you with the high-pitch screech, so be warned. You don’t want your brains running out of those pretty ears.”
And theywerepretty—a dusty red with bits of gray, tan and black in them.
Slowly, the closer Jack came to the corral, the more of the coywolf’s head appeared. He was betting itwasa coywolf. It didn’t look like the coyotes or wolves he’d seen while growing up in the area.
“You’re fucking huge,” he marveled when the coywolf sat up fully, fat pink tongue dangling from its mouth. Jack couldn’t be sure, but he thought the coywolf was actually grinning at him. There was a definite uptilt to its mouth back by the jaws—and the animal had scarily big teeth. “Um. I won’t taste good, in case you’re wondering.”
Oddly enough, the itchy, restless feeling he’d had for the past several days ebbed to an almost unnoticeable level. So did the sense of loss he’d been trying to puzzle out the cause of.
Jack put both things down to him being in a life-or-death situation. Then the coywolf yipped and wagged its tail while raising one paw up to rest on the trough.
“What the fuck, buddy?” Jack asked, taken aback by the show of playfulness. “Buddy. Well, okay.” Jack closed his eyesfor a second and chastised himself for giving the animal a name. “Now I’ve done it.”
He opened his eyes when he heard a scuffling sound, sure he was about to be attacked. Instead,Buddyhad scooted back away from the trough and was on his belly, that tongue lolling as he wagged his tail faster.
