Read Online Rebel's Claw by Afton Locke - Free Book Online Page B

it.
    “It’s just a ranch,” she argued, sounding hoarser by the second. “A small price to pay.”
    “There’s more at stake here than a piece of land.”
    She frowned. “What?”
    He pinched the bridge of his nose, needing to unload his secrets as she’d done. But not under the influence of fresh shock.
    “I can’t say right now.” He squeezed her arm. “Promise me you won’t call anyone. It would make things much worse.”
    She stepped away from the phone. “Then what—?”
    “Show me where he is.”
    “A-all right,” she said through trembling lips.
    He followed her outside into blinding shafts of sunshine, struggling to picture a rifle and a wolf on a dark, rainy night. Studying her jeans—loose enough to be practical and tight enough to be sexy—was easier.
    Because he finally knew what had happened, he viewed the scene through Jared’s eyes. Why had his friend trespassed here? What had it been like to stare at the end of Carrie’s rifle? That one was easy to figure out. Hadn’t she threatened to shoot his balls off, too? If he’d been in wolf form, would he have suffered the same fate?
    When they passed the front of the barn, the heavy tang of recent paint hit him. Holy buffalo crap. The whole side was brick red, covering the lucky-green horseshoe and words.
    He palmed the wood. “Did you repaint this?”
    “Yes. Daddy’s gone.”
    Come to think of it, the big boots had been gone from the kitchen, too. “Why now?”
    “I suppose you changed me.”
    She’d changed him, too. Every time he saw her put him through a blender. If she could move on after suffering a loss, maybe he could as well.
    His legs dragged so heavily he could hardly walk. The need to shift and process the emotional shock clawed at him. As a result, she got ahead of him, but the breeze still carried her fresh scent straight to his brain.
    At last, she stopped in the middle of the field. His breath clogged in his throat at the sight of her. How could she look so innocent standing there with the sunlight glowing around her pale hair? She resembled a freaking angel.
    Angel of death?
    A chill washed over his arms. Would she kill him, too, especially if she found out what he was? Luckily, he’d always been able to control his shifts. If he had problems with it like Lara’s mate used to, he might be in trouble. Still, his bones ached from the effort of suppressing his nature.
    “Here?” he asked, pointing to the ground at her feet.
    The tough grass and gravel didn’t look any different from the rest of the land. No one would ever suspect what lay underneath.
    “Yes.” She knelt and touched a pretty pink rock with marbled veins running through it. “I put it there, figuring he ought to have something nice. I said a prayer, too.”
    He looked away as hot tears erupted from his eyes. Which was sadder? His friend’s grave, or the fact she’d cared enough to give him a headstone? “Leave me.”
    “I-I’ll be in the kitchen.”
    While her booted footsteps retreated, he stared at the open land opposite of the house. After checking to make sure she was out of sight, he dropped to his knees in the gravelly soil.
    “Shit, Jared.” He slid a shaky palm across the ground. “Why the hell did you come here?”
    Nothing answered except a haunting breeze, jiggling the barn’s front door in its hinges. He glared at the sky and yelled—the closest thing to a howl in human form. Rough sobs grated through his chest and throat, and tears dripped onto the ground, leaving round dots of mud. He stretched out and laid his face on the rough surface until they stopped.
    “Get this, man,” he said, sitting up to wipe his face. “The chick who deep-sixed you is my fucking mate. Is that messed up or what?”
    At least Carrie’s confession had given him some closure. After three years of searching, he’d finally learned the truth. He stared at Wyoming’s brown, stony mountains in the distance—a sight as familiar as his own cock.
    After