Read Online Hunter Moon (Lupine Moon Series) by Cait Lavender - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cait Lavender
Tags: Novels
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his face if I hadn’t been spitting mad.
He rubbed his chest. “Shelby, the sheriff told me not to come. I can’t just go traipsing in another department’s crime scene just because you want me to. I’ll get written up!” His voice had a tinge of defensive anger, and it made me all the more furious.
“Oh, to hell with the sheriff! A man held a gun on me and you can’t be bothered to care about it!”
I punched him in the chest another time in exactly the same spot for good measure, and pulled my pants on. I hope he has a bruise. I snatched my overnight bag and tried to push past him, but he grabbed me by the shoulders.
“Goddamn it, Shells, don’t you think I wanted to be there?” he yelled back. “I was up all night waiting to hear from Weaver that you were okay!” I jerked out of his hands and stormed past him.
“Well, I’m glad you lost sleep over me,” I spat over my shoulder as I flew down the hallway. “Maybe that’ll make me feel better when I’m wide awake, terrified Mr. 22 will come back to finish the job.”
Okay, so I probably won’t lose sleep over this, but he doesn’t have to know that. Jesse was nowhere to be found as I ran out of the house. Just as well, I was in no mood to be merciful. I still hadn’t gotten those aspirin and an ice pack.
With Cash right behind me, I slammed the door shut on him as I left. I felt a smidge better when I heard him swear. All of those good feelings were lost when I remembered my Blazer wasn’t here because I had ridden with Tyler. Well shoot.
I didn’t want to waste a perfectly good storm out by asking Cash for a ride. I turned toward Jesse’s garage and threw my bag into the back of her old Saturn. I knew she wouldn’t mind me borrowing it, and I knew she knew I was absolutely furious at her for letting Cash get the jump on me, so I didn’t feel the least bit sorry when I took the keys from the visor and tore out of her driveway. Cash having to dodge behind his truck to avoid being hit by spraying gravel was an added bonus.
Chapter Eight
I felt a bit more human when stepped out of my shower. Towel wrapped around my waist, I walked into my bedroom and gave Reggie a pat on the head. I still couldn’t figure out why he had stayed on my bed last night instead of protecting me like a good guard dog should.
My head still smarted where I’d hit the door jam, but the handful of ibuprofen had helped that immensely. That and hearing Cash yell and pound on my door for the last twenty minutes. I should have recorded him as my ringtone but pay-as-you-go phones aren’t fancy enough for that.
I hummed to myself and threw on a pair of workout shorts and a tank top. I picked up my 12 gauge Benelli, walked to the front door and pumped it. I read an article a few years back about how the simple sound of racking a shotgun did more to instill fear in an intruder than the gun itself. If Cash’s immediate silence was any indication, they weren’t wrong.
“Now Shells, don’t do anything stupid, alright? I just want to talk.” Cash’s voice sounded no small bit wary, and if I heard things correctly, a little farther off than before. I smiled, opened the door and leveled the barrel at his chest. It was gun owner’s 101 that you never point a gun at anyone, but I was feeling surly. He doesn’t have to know the gun is empty.
“Only my close friends have the right to call me ‘Shells’, and seeing as you don’t care whether I live or die, I’d prefer if you’d stop using it.” My voice dripped with acid. I continued to smile sweetly, if a bit forced. “Now talk.”
Cash nodded, eyes glued to the barrel, and cleared his throat. “I’ll talk when you put that gun down.”
I narrowed my eyes and pulled the trigger. It clicked. I let out a sharp bark of laugher when he flinched. Outrage flashed in his eyes and before I knew it, I was on the ground with Cash laying heavily on top of me. Shocked, and not failing to notice he had been careful not
He rubbed his chest. “Shelby, the sheriff told me not to come. I can’t just go traipsing in another department’s crime scene just because you want me to. I’ll get written up!” His voice had a tinge of defensive anger, and it made me all the more furious.
“Oh, to hell with the sheriff! A man held a gun on me and you can’t be bothered to care about it!”
I punched him in the chest another time in exactly the same spot for good measure, and pulled my pants on. I hope he has a bruise. I snatched my overnight bag and tried to push past him, but he grabbed me by the shoulders.
“Goddamn it, Shells, don’t you think I wanted to be there?” he yelled back. “I was up all night waiting to hear from Weaver that you were okay!” I jerked out of his hands and stormed past him.
“Well, I’m glad you lost sleep over me,” I spat over my shoulder as I flew down the hallway. “Maybe that’ll make me feel better when I’m wide awake, terrified Mr. 22 will come back to finish the job.”
Okay, so I probably won’t lose sleep over this, but he doesn’t have to know that. Jesse was nowhere to be found as I ran out of the house. Just as well, I was in no mood to be merciful. I still hadn’t gotten those aspirin and an ice pack.
With Cash right behind me, I slammed the door shut on him as I left. I felt a smidge better when I heard him swear. All of those good feelings were lost when I remembered my Blazer wasn’t here because I had ridden with Tyler. Well shoot.
I didn’t want to waste a perfectly good storm out by asking Cash for a ride. I turned toward Jesse’s garage and threw my bag into the back of her old Saturn. I knew she wouldn’t mind me borrowing it, and I knew she knew I was absolutely furious at her for letting Cash get the jump on me, so I didn’t feel the least bit sorry when I took the keys from the visor and tore out of her driveway. Cash having to dodge behind his truck to avoid being hit by spraying gravel was an added bonus.
Chapter Eight
I felt a bit more human when stepped out of my shower. Towel wrapped around my waist, I walked into my bedroom and gave Reggie a pat on the head. I still couldn’t figure out why he had stayed on my bed last night instead of protecting me like a good guard dog should.
My head still smarted where I’d hit the door jam, but the handful of ibuprofen had helped that immensely. That and hearing Cash yell and pound on my door for the last twenty minutes. I should have recorded him as my ringtone but pay-as-you-go phones aren’t fancy enough for that.
I hummed to myself and threw on a pair of workout shorts and a tank top. I picked up my 12 gauge Benelli, walked to the front door and pumped it. I read an article a few years back about how the simple sound of racking a shotgun did more to instill fear in an intruder than the gun itself. If Cash’s immediate silence was any indication, they weren’t wrong.
“Now Shells, don’t do anything stupid, alright? I just want to talk.” Cash’s voice sounded no small bit wary, and if I heard things correctly, a little farther off than before. I smiled, opened the door and leveled the barrel at his chest. It was gun owner’s 101 that you never point a gun at anyone, but I was feeling surly. He doesn’t have to know the gun is empty.
“Only my close friends have the right to call me ‘Shells’, and seeing as you don’t care whether I live or die, I’d prefer if you’d stop using it.” My voice dripped with acid. I continued to smile sweetly, if a bit forced. “Now talk.”
Cash nodded, eyes glued to the barrel, and cleared his throat. “I’ll talk when you put that gun down.”
I narrowed my eyes and pulled the trigger. It clicked. I let out a sharp bark of laugher when he flinched. Outrage flashed in his eyes and before I knew it, I was on the ground with Cash laying heavily on top of me. Shocked, and not failing to notice he had been careful not
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