Mate Marked(30)

Or not.

When Chelsea approached the house, the front door opened right away. Joyce walked out and quickly shut the door behind her.

She had circles under her eyes and she looked tired and stressed out.

“Hey Joyce, is everything okay?” Chelsea asked. “I could tell something was bothering you. Is it anything I can help you with?”

Joyce ran her hands over her face, and nodded with a grimace.

“Everything’s fine,” Joyce said. “I’m just tired. I’ve been working a lot of shifts, and you know those boys and my grandmother. They wear me out.”

It seemed like more than that, though. Joyce was nervous about something. She was shifting from one foot to the other, and acted as if she wanted to glance back at the house but was restraining herself.

“Are you sure that’s it?” Chelsea asked.

“Positive,” Joyce said.

“Okay. And there haven’t been any more sheep killings? So far, it looks as if a regular wolf, not a shifter, killed those sheep. The police chief is stepping up patrols and putting traps out.”

“That’s great. I’m glad to hear it,” Joyce said. “There haven’t been any more sheep killings that I’ve heard of. I knew it wasn’t Roman’s pack. Everything’s been quiet here, nothing to worry about.”

She was fidgeting, anxious, clearly wanting Chelsea to leave. She did seem sincere when she said that she knew it wasn’t Roman’s pack, though.

“All right. Well.” Chelsea wished she knew what was wrong, but it was clear she wouldn’t get anywhere by sticking around.

She hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “If you need anything, you know where to find me,” Chelsea said, and she turned and headed back to her truck.

Joyce quickly stepped back inside. She stood peering out the window past the small lace curtain and watched Chelsea pull away, feeling sick.

“Nice job,” Mitch Rodgers growled in her ear. She started. He was standing uncomfortably close to her, his hot breath on her ear, leaning in. She took an involuntary step back, which made him scowl. He moved forward, crowding her. Her grandmother wandered by them, holding a pot of hot coffee.

“Tea, dear?” she said cheerfully to Mr. Rodgers, and began pouring coffee on his foot. He let out a scream of pain and jumped back.

“Grandma! Not now,” Joyce said, grabbing her grandmother by the arm and dragging her into the kitchen. She was secretly pleased, however. Not just because she wanted savage, painful revenge on Mitch Rodgers for threatening her family. She also wanted him to stop staring at her in that creepy way, making her stomach churn.

Mitch Rodgers stormed into the kitchen after them, swearing.

“She does that on purpose!” he howled.

“No, she doesn’t! She’s senile! She does not have any clue what she’s doing!” Chelsea said, quickly stepping in front of her grandmother. “And you are not to harm anyone in my family. You promised.”

“I’ve got my eye on you,” Mitch growled at Edna.

“Tea, dear?” she began pouring coffee again, but this time he managed to jump out of the way just in time, swearing. Joyce took the coffee pot away from her grandmother.

“I did what you asked. I got rid of her. Now I want my brothers back,” she said, her stomach churning. She was sick with worry.

Mitch had grabbed them two days ago. Said that they were trespassing on his property; she didn’t know if that was true, but either way, he had them. She didn’t know where they were being held. If she called the police, Mitch had sworn that her brothers would be dead long before the police could find them.

“You’ll get them back when all of this is done,” Mitch growled at her, limping towards the back door. “And it would be a smart idea for you to start being a little nicer to me.” There was a leer on his face this time, and the way that his gaze roved over her body made her feel physically ill.





Chapter Fifteen




The school bus echoed with the shrill sound of “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”

“Almost!” Chelsea yelled for the millionth time.

“He’ll never know what hit him.” Erika snickered. Chelsea grinned. She’d decided to switch tactics. She’d also decided it would be fun to play dirty.

It was obvious she wouldn’t be able to physically subdue Roman and drag him off to jail, so she was bringing his pack’s worst nightmare right to their doorstep.

What’s the worst nightmare of a commitmentphobe? Children.

Fifteen of them. So many that they’d had to borrow a school bus to transport them all.

Erika had gathered up all her nieces and nephews and younger cousins, who apparently were a wild, out-of-control handful. So far, they were living up to their reputation.