Page 92 of His to Claim

I walked down the hall, every step cautious for no other reason than he hadn’t given me permission to explore his private office. There were three doors, all of them closed. The first was a spare bedroom, the musty smell indicating he hadn’t spent any time cleaning the room in one hell of a long time. The second was a bathroom. When I finally stood in front of his office door, I honestly felt as if I needed to call him for permission.

Laughing softly, I rolled my eyes and walked right in. The dark paneling on the walls wasn’t a surprise, the manly looking area fitting the rogue kind of man that he was. As I moved closer to the desk, what did take my breath away was the single picture positioned next to his desk lamp. I’d recognize it anywhere. As I lifted the frame, I was taken back to the very moment the photograph was taken, the only one of the two of us in existence.

Our time spent together had been all about our passion. Rarely had we gone out other than a quick bite to eat. I remembered begging to go to the stupid small town fair on one blustery Saturday, something Stone had groaned over and over again at being forced to do. Yet he’d gone with me, even going on a couple of the old-fashioned rides. The picture had been snapped by an unknown bystander.

We were so young, so innocent at the time but the joy on our faces was dazzling. I couldn’t believe that Stone had kept the picture.

An odd sixth sense shifted into my mind, cutting off the moment of happiness. I fumbled to lower the frame, already scanning the rest of the room for my weapon, finally forced to pull out several desk drawers before finding it. I pulled it into the thin strip of light coming in through the blinds, making certain he hadn’t pulled the ammo. Satisfied, I grabbed my purse from the floor in the living room, reaching inside for my phone then half jogging into the bedroom. As I pulled my jeans off the floor, I shifted my gaze toward the rumpled sheets, even able to smile.

More than anything, I wanted to be able to spend time with Stone, getting to know him all over again, including every inch of his magnificent body. I bit back a moan, rolling my eyes. Right now, I had to try to help figure out what was going on. There was only one way in my mind of doing that.

A visit to the asshole I knew to be responsible.

What I wanted to do might be nuts, but I’d played the victim for far too long. The moment I touched the screen on my phone, I realized I’d received a call, the source unknown. The bastard had even left a voicemail. Jesus Christ. My hands were shaking more than they should be. Whoever the bastard was couldn’t hurt me here.

Even if the caller was the wolf.

A laugh bubbled to the surface. A part of me still believed I’d been hallucinating this entire last few days.

Creatures of the night exist, beasts ready to carve out and eat your heart.

“God.” I forced myself to put the phone on the nightstand, daring to maneuver to the voicemail and putting it on speakerphone while I attempted to struggle into my jeans.

“Ms. Bridges. This is Randy O’Rourke. Look, you seem like a nice girl. There are some things you need to learn.”

I shifted my gaze in the direction of my phone as I buttoned and zipped, easing down onto the bed. Randy’s voice was hushed, as if he was fearful of being overheard. I turned my attention toward the phone, staring down at the screen.

“I don’t like what’s happening. Things are getting out of hand once again. Your father. Yeah, I know who he is. I even talked to him a couple of times. He was a good man given a raw deal with no one backing him up. Damn fucking system. He was investigating a case that I’d written about before the whole Wolfen story hit the presses. A lot of shit was going down at the time, corruption involving high ranking members of the city government.”

No wonder Randy was terrified for his life. If he’d written even a single article on corruption in the government, he would have had a target on his back.

“Your father was my go to source, at least until he disappeared,”Randy continued.“From what I know, they never found his body. Damn partner of his sold him out. Fuckin’ wol…”

The remainder of Randy’s sentence had been mumbled. I played it twice, trying to grasp what he was trying to say. Fuckin’ wol…f. I cringed, my entire attempting to process what Randy was trying to say.

I listened again and knew I was right.

Wolf.

An investigation. A lump formed in my throat. What Randy was suggesting sounded like my father was some kind of law enforcement officer. Then why would my mother accuse him of being a criminal? Maybe she only thought she knew my father. Hmm…

“Oh, God.” My father had been working undercover at the Montenegro Corporation. Wait a minute. Then why would he use his real name? That didn’t make a damn bit of sense. I started the recording again, listening intently. As Randy started to mumble, I had to yank the phone to my ear.

“There’s more. A hell of a lot more. You should probably…”Randy’s breathing became extremely heavy. What the hell was the other sound I was hearing? A door closing.“I don’t have long. I have to get the hell out of here. I think the bastards are sick of me being a loose end. Listen to me, you need to know who you really are. They will also hunt you down, Ms. Bridges, now that they know who and what you are. Get out while you still can. I…”

Wham!

The hard clanging noise was startling. “What the hell?” Suddenly, there was silence. The second I glared at the phone I realized the voicemail had ended. My fingers shaking, I replayed a portion of it again, turning up the volume.

“…Ms. Bridges, now that they know you and what you are. Get out while you still can. I…”Pop!

I jerked back, taking several deep breaths and just before the recording ended, I’d heard a moan. The sound was one I knew far too well. A close-range gunshot. I closed my eyes, taking several deep breaths, a mixture of anger and hatred rolling into my veins.

The questions rushed into my mind in a fast and furious manner. Who andwhatI was? Why did my mother believe my father had been a criminal? Who had he been working for? And what the hell did his partner have to do with it? I rocked on the bed, staring at the screen for a full minute before finding the courage to redial the number. When the call went straight to his voicemail, a knowing settled in.

I was shaking all over as I ripped off Stone’s tee shirt, searching the room until I found my sweater. This was crazy. Had something happened to Randy because he’d talked to me? I was sick to my stomach, unable to think clearly. I grabbed the gun and my phone, rushing through the house and into the kitchen, moving back toward the television on the corner of the counter.

As I dialed Randy’s number again, I grabbed the remote, my hands still shaking as I attempted to find any news program on. “Come on, Randy. Pick up the phone. You have a hell of a lot more information for me. I know you do.” Fucking voicemail. I held the phone to my head, saying a silent prayer.