Rebecca’s Wolves(89)

“Now you listen here, you asshole.” Randal’s voice sounded shaky. Pissed off. His face was full of rage as he leaned closer. He kicked something. There was a noise, and whatever pinned Miles shifted.

Miles screamed at the sharp pain in his legs when the item moved.

Randal laughed again. “Ain’t this perfect. A fucking earthquake pins the very asshole I’m about to kill. Nice.”

Kill? Fuck.

“We’re close. What’s going on?” asked Griffen.

“Randal is mumbling about killing me. He must have lured me here for that purpose and gotten thwarted by the earthquake. Be careful. I think he has a gun. I’m pinned in the barn. Something must have fallen on me in the quake. Do you have Rebecca and Melinda with you?”

“Yes.”

“Leave them in the car. Too dangerous. You might need to shift. Gonna have to shut off the engine and come in quiet so Peaceman doesn’t hear you coming.”

“Got it. Turning the car off now. I’ll run from here.”

Miles turned his attention back to the deranged old guy. He needed to reason with the man, buy some time. “Randal. Let’s talk about this. What’s bothering you?”

Was he suffering from dementia or something?

Randal laughed harder. “Rich. Sure. Let’s talk. Let’s talk about you thinking you can mate with two people outside our pack and get away with it.”

What? “Get away with what, Randal? They’re my mates.” And how did Randal know so much about Miles’ private life? The man hardly ever came to town.

The pressure on his chest increased as Randal leaned into the object. He gritted out his next words. “We do not mate outside the pack, asshole. Never. We’re a superior tribe. We mate inside the pack.”

Miles licked his lips. He couldn’t think how to respond. “Okay, Randal. Calm down. Maybe I’m mistaken.”

“Yeah. Maybe you are. And maybe you’ve already planted your seed in that human bitch who isn’t a member of our pack or our tribe. She’s not even fucking lupine.” Spittle sprayed from Randal’s mouth to land on Miles’ face.

Miles shook his head. “I haven’t. Trust me. I would know.”

“Thank God for that. At least no half-breed fuckers will be born into the pack this time.”

This time? What the hell is he talking about?

“Guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You probably don’t even remember your mother. That bitch tried something similar. Must run in your family’s fucked-up blood. Look what happened to her.”

“My mother?” Miles had no memory of his mother. He was three when she disappeared and left him and Melinda with their grandmother. To this day no one knew if she was dead or alive. He knew there had been extensive search teams, but no body was ever found. It was as if she simply vanished. One day she left the house and never returned.

Did Randal kill her?

“That bitch made bad choices. Like the ones you’re making now. Thought she could mate with some white man. Stupid, stupid bitch.”

“What white man? I’m not half white, Randal. I’m one hundred percent Native American.”

“You don’t know fuck.”

Apparently. Miles couldn’t wrap his head around all this information. His mother mated a white man? Or tried to? Did Randal stop her? Did he kill her? When could that have happened? And why did Miles not know any of this?

“I dealt with your mom. And I’m gonna deal with you now, fucker. It’s too bad your stupid human didn’t pay attention to my numerous warnings and get the hell out of town. Would have saved a whole lot of hassle. But that bitch is persistent. She didn’t give a fuck about any warning I left her that she wasn’t welcome here. Now I’ll deal with you instead. Had hoped to avoid it. Pains me to dispose of a healthy male member of the pack. But if your mind ain’t right, then you have to be dealt with.”

“I’m coming in, Miles. In wolf form.” Griffen.

“Got it. Be careful. You need to take this asshole out. I haven’t seen his gun, but he said he was going to shoot me, so I’m going to say it’s on him somewhere. I’ll try to keep him talking as long as I can.”

“All right.”

A shuffling noise some distance away caught Miles’ attention. It caught Randal’s too.

Miles heard a snarl. He was so damn helpless, and he hated it.

Randal cussed and stomped out of sight. There was a low growl and Randal screamed. Another growl from somewhere else. Who the hell was that one coming from?

Melinda. Damn her. He could smell his sister’s scent.

A struggle filled his ears, shuffling, scraping of wood against wood.