A Kitty in the Lion's Den(4)

“You working at the bar tonight?”

Scratching the stubble that lined his cheek, he nodded and eyed the young bear shifter. Liam was the spitting image of Trace, right down to the green eyes and dark hair. He was also a big bastard, almost as big as Maverick, and that was saying something since he wasn’t small by any means.

“Nah.”

Liam nodded slowly. “It doesn’t look like you got much sleep last night.”

For being in his twenties Liam was a smart and perceptive fucker. Maverick didn’t even bother responding, just glared at him. He had known Trace for the past six years, since the first day he moved to Sweet Water. Maverick had been getting drunk at Slater’s, the sleazy bar on the outskirts of town. Trace had walked in, sat his ass on the barstool next to him, and the two of them just started bullshitting. One thing led to another, and before he knew it he was befriending the polar bear. Then a year later shit had hit the fan with Trace and his then-wife, Karla. Maverick had shown up at Trace’s house just in time to stop Trace from killing the guy Karla had been fucking behind his back. That had been years ago, and now Trace was mated to a wolf with a little one on the way.

“All right, well I’m heading out. I’ve got a date with puma tonight.” Liam grinned, and Maverick cocked a brow. “All right, not a date, but she is due at my place in an hour, and she isn’t a cock-tease.”

Yeah, Liam was more of a fuck ‘em and leave ‘em type, but the females were willing and okay with only sleeping with him once. One would think a small town wouldn’t have so many willing females ready to spread their legs, but Maverick had learned a long time ago Sweet Water wasn’t the typical small town. Besides, Maverick really didn’t have any room to talk. He had never had a relationship that was more than a few hours and ended with him and the female he was with getting off. It was too dangerous, too risky, and he wasn’t the type of male that was good for a female in any way, shape, or form.

“Sounds good.”

Liam tilted his chin and turned to leave. Maverick stared down at the papers on his desk, and sighed. This new life was mundane and boring, but that was how he fucking liked it. He was always on alert though, always holstering his Para-Ordnance P-14 at his lower back. That would never change, and he would always be on alert, always expect an enemy to be right behind him ready to take his ass out. Maverick may have been known as a silent killer back in the day, and in fact could still take someone out without regret or making a single sound, making sure his identity stayed hidden was imperative.

He looked out the window in front of him, which showed the small garage. He had a hefty amount of money in his account when he had left the profession, but that was blood money, and he didn’t want a trail, even if they did think he was dead. If they noticed the money gone they would have known he was alive. So, he had started fresh, worked his way up, and now made good money doing honest work. What he needed right now was a good, hard fuck, preferably with a female that wasn’t from Sweet Water. He could always go to Sugar Rush, a small town with about five thousand residents, and with a ratio that had humans outnumbering shifters. It was only about two hours away from Sweet Water, and that was just enough distance that he wouldn’t have to worry about the female he fucked being a clinger and tracking him down. It wasn’t that he preferred a human female to fuck over a shifter, but he did like the fact a human wasn’t as keen with their senses like a shifter was. Although Maverick was the master of hiding what he thought and felt, there was a spilt moment, right when the pleasure of release took over, that a part of every person was bared open. And a shifter could pick up on that, so he tended to stay away from fucking shifters.

He finished up his paperwork, which took him a little over an hour, and closed up shop. His Harley sat right inside the garage, all gleaming and looking fucking good. The sun was starting to set, but instead of going over to his bike he climbed into his truck, cranked the engine, and headed toward Sugar Rush for a good fuck with a random female.

****

Kettah was jarred awake when the sound of brakes squealing sounded all around her. She looked around, noticed the only ones left on the bus were herself and a man who had boarded at the same time she had back in Tandale. The interior of the bus was dark and smelled faintly of human sweat, but what she sensed even more strongly was the stare of the man a few seats across from her. Suddenly the interior lights flared to life, and the crackle of the speakers turning on broke up the silence.

“Last stop. Please exit the bus.”

Kettah’s heart started to pound, and she tried to look out the window, but since it was dark outside and so bright inside, that made visibility next to impossible. The other guy on the bus stood and cast one more glance her way. He was a bigger human, looked somewhat in shape, and had a ball cap on his head, which made trying to gauge his reaction difficult. He turned and made his way off the bus, and she swallowed the lump that was lodged in her throat. She checked her watch and checked the time. It was ten at night. Since ditching her cell because she knew it had a tracer on it, she was living on the few hundred dollars in her purse, and the clothes on her back. Grabbing her purse, the only thing she had been able to take with her when she decided she was going to run, she stood on shaky legs, and made her way toward the front. The bus driver stared at her through the massive mirror right above his head.