Lowlander Silverback(33)

This was the moment he took his life back or died trying.

With a quick drum of his chest, Kong charged the silverbacks.

And then there was pain.





Chapter Eleven




Layla carefully crawled over Willa’s sleeping form in the queen-size bed. She and Georgia had stayed late into the night, soothing her heartache, and had fallen asleep beside her. Layla, however, was still wide awake with worry.

Kong should be back by now.

She walked through the small singlewide, her bare feet cold against the cheap laminate wood flooring. There were squishy parts and creaks, but she made it to the living room with its clean, white panel walls. She pulled a thick blanket off the back of the green couch and let herself out the front door as quietly as she could.

The first streaks of dawn ghosted the horizon. She sat in a rocking chair on the sprawling cedar porch off the side of the trailer and huddled into the blanket. The tears on her cheeks had dried in the middle of the night, and now, she felt drained, as if she had nothing left but worry over Kong. She didn’t know how long she sat there waiting. Perhaps it was ten minutes, perhaps an hour. The sky lightened to a soft gray that met dark storm clouds, and still, she kept her eyes trained on the road. He would come back to her. He had to. Fate surely wasn’t so cruel that it would take both of the men from her life in one night.

Movement caught her attention, and she unfolded her legs and padded toward the porch railing. Her shoulders sagged with disappointment. Not Kong. It was Matt, Willa’s mate. His sandy hair was disheveled as if he hadn’t slept a wink either, and his bright blue eyes swam with worry as he paced near a jacked-up Chevy truck. He muttered, “Come on, Kong,” then hit a button on his phone and lifted it to his ear. “Where are you?” Matt settled with his back to her, staring at the road she’d been watching. He muttered a curse and yanked the phone away from his ear. “You coming or what?” he asked without turning around.

“Y-yes.”

“Get in,” he clipped out, casting her a bright-eyed glance over his shoulder.

Layla draped the blanket over the railing and made her way to his truck as quietly as she could. Then she climbed in through his side and settled onto the passenger’s seat.

“Whatever happens—”

“He’s fine,” she said in a hard voice.

Matt inhaled deeply and nodded his head once. Then he jammed the engine and slammed his foot on the gas, spinning out as he sped off down the road.

“Kong’s your friend,” she whispered numbly as she watched the towering pines blur by the window.

“He’s my best friend. He kept me sane before Willa came along. Kong bought me time until she found me. Layla?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him Mac wasn’t her real father. He felt like it anyway. “Thanks.”

“I don’t remember mine.”

She jerked her gaze to Matt and frowned. “How old were you when he died?”

“He didn’t die. Or maybe he did, I don’t know. I was taken from my parents young. Look, what Rhett did…he didn’t do that because he’s a shifter. He did it because he is a murderous asshole.”

“I know.”

Matt dared a glance at her, then returned his attention back to the road. “I just didn’t want you thinking all shifters are like that.”

She offered him an understanding smile, then sighed and drew her knees up to her chest. Matt turned on the music a few minutes later to drown out the silence of the cab, but not even the soft notes of country love songs could settle the nerves in her stomach. She knew what she could and couldn’t handle, and she was on the brink now. If anything happened to Kong…

She swallowed hard and blinked back tears. Mac was gone, and now Kong was everything good in her life.

And he should’ve been back by now.

The drive stretched on and on, suffocating her slowly until she cracked the window for some fresh air and relief. Matt did the same, and when he looked at her, his eyes were churning light silver. He gripped the wheel until his knuckles turned white as he drove down a black asphalt road that looked newly poured. Storm clouds roiled over them, threatening to unleash a shower of pelting rain at any moment. Kong’s car sat at an angle in front of a cabin. Cedar logs and a green roof with a wraparound porch. This place was beautiful. She would’ve dreamed of living here with Kong someday if it weren’t for the blood trailing up the porch stairs and into the front door.

A soft growl came from Matt, and his nostrils flared as he scented the air. “Stay here.”

“No,” she rasped, forcing the word past her tightening throat. “I have to see.”