The untamed, p.10
The Untamed, page 10
Like he said, there’s blood and it’s smeared on the blankets that are rumpled and shoved away too as though the person fought their attacker. There aren’t any signs of damage to the outside of the tent, which leads me to believe this was not a bear.
“Anyone from your camp missing?” I ask once I stand back up.
Raegan, unable to resist, also peeks inside. “Not a bear,” she concludes after a few seconds. “This place would be smashed and shredded if so.”
No one calls her Captain Obvious, though it’s on the tip of my tongue. Luckily, Logan responds before I can lash her with my barb.
“All present and accounted for.” He scrubs a palm over his face and shoots me a harrowing look. “I honestly worried it was you who’d taken her.”
I stiffen at his words. “Me?”
He shrugs as though it’s a no-brainer. I’m left reeling, and quite frankly, offended.
“Why Ryder?” Ronan asks, a frown tugging at his pouty lips.
“We barely know you all,” Logan says with a huff. “No offense to you, personally, but you weren’t with the group that got attacked by the bear.”
“Neither was I,” Ronan offers.
“I know it wasn’t you.” Logan’s smile is small and private for Ronan, but I still see.
“We won’t find her sitting around with our thumbs up our asses,” I grunt, shooting Logan a warning glare. “We need to gather some capable hands and then divide our groups up to cover more ground.”
Logan hesitates, as if my assuming command grates on him, but he manages to swallow down his ire, giving me a quick nod.
It’s dark by the time we have a group of twelve organized and ready to go on our hunt. Logan makes sure Ronan is in his group along with his brother Jace. I’m not happy, but I know he can handle himself. I grab Raegan and another man—Michael and Owen’s cousin, I learn—named Tom. The other two groups are led by CJ and another one of their cousins and Tom’s brother, Seth. Raegan is the only female—another reason why it’s best she’s in my group.
Once we’re all armed and dressed for hunting, another quick ten minutes later, we all set out in different directions. Seth’s group goes down the side of the cliff on the stairs to scout out the area along the river, CJ’s group goes down the road that leads toward town, my group heads west into an area where we hunt a lot, and Logan’s group starts off toward the creek and where we first met up with them.
Normally, Raegan would be running her mouth right about now, still chastising me about earlier, but she’s in huntress mode. Her knife—my knife—is in her hand and at the ready. Each step she makes is damn near silent and a stark comparison to the way Tom bulldozes his way through the forest, shining his flashlight all over the place with no rhyme or reason.
I want to tell this dude to quit fucking stomping, but I manage to hold myself back. Tom may seem like a doofus, but he’s hulking at nearly six and a half feet tall, reminding me very much of Uncle Atticus in size. Dad taught us from an early age not to go provoking creatures that are bigger than us. Tom, though a little pudgy in the midsection, could probably lob my head off with one swing.
My mind is still scattered, thinking about Logan and Ronan and now Tom the giant, when Rae sucks in a sharp breath. It takes only seconds to discover what has her alarmed.
A sock.
Slowly, with my heart beginning to hammer in my chest, I crouch to pick it up, inspecting it closer with my flashlight. A single drop of blood stains the dingy cotton bright crimson. It’s dry, which can’t be good.
“Kristen’s?” Rae asks, picking it up to inspect it better.
It’s just a sock and could essentially be anyone’s, but not just anyone is missing. Kristen is missing and we’ve just found our first clue.
“I think we’re headed in the right direction,” Tom rumbles, worry tinging his tone.
“Stay aware and keep your weapons ready,” I remind them both. “If something attacked her, like a mountain lion or something, it’s possible it could have dragged her out here. And if we’re encroaching on its meal, the cat won’t be happy. Shoot first, ask questions later.”
Dad would be proud of that last sentiment that has Tom studying me with narrowed eyes.
Ignoring him, I take the lead once more, taking care not to make too much sound. Thankfully, Tom seems to have gotten the hint and isn’t smashing his massive boots through anything and everything. Raegan prowls much like a cat herself, making my heart squeeze with momentary pride. As much as I don’t want her traipsing out headfirst into danger, I know she of all people can handle herself.
We spend another twenty minutes in silence, the three of us wary and watchful. It’s not until Rae sucks in a sharp breath do my eyes also latch onto what she sees.
Blue jeans.
Or, rather, blood-soaked blue jeans sliced cleanly up each pant leg and discarded like trash. My stomach clenches like a fist and bile burns in the back of my throat. No forest animal that I know of can cut neatly through fabric.
Whoever did this is human.
Tom curses under his breath and then stomps past us to inspect the clothing. I’m still wondering who the fuck could do this when Rae cries out and then takes off in a full sprint ahead. It takes a second for my mind to catch up before I’m tearing off after her bouncing flashlight. If the monster who did this is still out here, then she’s in danger. We’re all in danger.
I’ve nearly caught up to Rae, weaving around thick tree trunks and hopping over thick underbrush when I see her. Not Rae. Kristen.
Bloody. Half-naked. Unmoving.
Is she dead?
Her legs are crudely spread apart, her pussy on full display, with her underwear still hanging on to one of her legs just past her knee. It’s nothing like the dirty magazines Wild smuggles to us. There’s nothing sexy about seeing a real pussy for the first time.
This is disgusting.
Kristen is battered with bruises and cuts all over her body. Her face is nearly unrecognizable as it’s so purple and swollen. Her bottom lip is split and easily the size of a small plum. Both eyes are hidden from the swelling, making it difficult to tell if she’s alive or not.
Rae falls to her knees beside the ruined woman, a soft keening sound escaping my sister. I don’t know what to do except stare in horror. When Tom finally arrives, he lets out a pained sound that doesn’t sound too far off from the sound Rae made.
“G-Go get help,” I order, my voice a raspy croak. “Tom, go. Run.”
He hesitates for a second and then takes off, crashing through the forest like a damn crazed grizzly bear.
Rae gently takes hold of Kristen’s knee and pushes it toward the other one, eliminating the gruesome, crude evidence of what happened.
Someone raped her and then killed her.
A pained moan resounds from in front of me, finally snapping me into action.
“She’s alive,” I choke out, falling to my knees on Kristen’s other side. “Fuck, what do we do?”
Rae takes Kristen’s bloody hand and leans forward. “Kristen, we’re here. You’re safe now. We’ll protect you.”
Kristen moans, her agony apparent in the way she shudders and tears roll down her abused cheeks. It kills me seeing this woman like this. Who could do such a fucked-up thing? Someone from the camp? Someone else out there?
“Who hurt you?” I demand, unable to hold back the anger bubbling up inside me. “I’ll kill them.”
Kristen jolts at the sound of my voice, curling herself away from me and toward Rae. Rae shoots me a warning look, bares her teeth at me, and then pointedly jerks her eyes toward home.
Like hell I’m leaving her alone.
Rather than obeying her, I rise to my feet, flicking off my flashlight, and take a few steps back. This seems to satisfy both women because Rae stops glowering at me and Kristen’s shuddering lessens.
I want to help, but Rae’s made it clear she’s got this. All I can do is watch with horrified interest as Rae inspects Kristen’s wounds while murmuring soft things to her that I’m not privy to hear.
“Ryder is going to pick you up, Kristen, okay? He’s my brother and he’s safe. He would never hurt you,” Rae assures her. “We have to get you back home so we can take a look at your wounds.”
The woman doesn’t put up any argument, so I shake away my daze and slowly step forward. Rae peels out of her flannel shirt, leaving her in a too-tight T-shirt that puts my teeth on edge, and wraps it around Kristen’s waist, covering her up. As gently as I can, I slide my arms beneath the battered woman.
Kristen whimpers and then starts to cry as I scoop her up off the ground. She doesn’t weigh much more than Rae does and is similar in build. My chest aches thinking about if it were my sister in her place instead. Disgust ripples through me and I have to swallow a furious growl.
Whoever did this must pay.
We will make them pay.
Hours later, Kristen is soundly sleeping in the big house under Mom’s watch, safely out of harm’s way. Dad and Michael chased everyone out of there once we brought her in, the two of them assessing her wounds. Now that she’s stable, clean, and medicated, they both return to the bonfire outside where everyone sits quietly, a ripple of fear quaking through the entire group.
“Who could do this?” I demand, addressing my father with a mixture of disgust and disbelief.
Dad’s lips thin out and he shakes his head. “I think Michael can answer that.”
Michael scrubs a palm over his face and sighs heavily. “It has to be…them.”
“Them?” Ronan asks from beside Logan, who’s damn near catatonic.
Owen and Michael share a heavy look before Michael speaks up again. “We had some people following us. A couple of men. A little too friendly and gave us weird vibes. Owen and I ran them off, but I don’t think we could quite shake them.”
My blood runs cold knowing they led actual monsters back to our home.
“You didn’t think to share this important tidbit of information?” I growl. “Seriously? It could have been one of my sisters!”
“Enough,” Dad barks. “It wasn’t. But it was Logan’s wife. It doesn’t matter the who, just that it happened.”
I cut my eyes over to Logan. He’s somber and frowning, but that’s not what has my hackles raised. Ronan is standing all too close to him, whispering to him as though he’s comforting him in some secret way no one else is allowed to hear. For some reason, it pisses me off. I should feel bad for the guy since his wife was kidnapped, beaten to hell, and raped, most likely by two different men.
And yet…
All I notice is how Ronan slips a comforting arm around Logan’s waist, hugging him to his side. It rankles to see Logan nearly collapse into my brother’s hug.
I don’t like the way they touch.
These people are bad news.
Logan may be a decent guy, but his people brought this into our backyard. They led some vicious men to our home where it could have been Rae or Destiny out there rather than one of their own. Twice now, my family’s safety has been in jeopardy because of these people.
I’ll be damned if I let it happen a third time.
Michael says something to Logan that has him peeling himself—reluctantly—out of Ronan’s arms. Choosing my brother over whatever the men are going to discuss, I make a beeline over to him. He frowns at me when I grab his bicep and tug him away from the brightness of the fire and into the shadows of our yard.
“This is so fucked-up,” I murmur before pulling Ronan against my chest and hugging him. “So fucked-up.”
Ronan is stiff at first but quickly melts into my embrace. His arms snake around me, squeezing me tight. My heart thunders wildly in my chest.
When I’d grabbed him, all I’d cared about was getting him away from Logan, but now that I have him in my arms, a different sensation tingles through me.
Relief. Happiness. Warmth.
The adrenaline that’d been running through me all day floods out of me and I sag against him. My nose finds his neck and I inhale the smoky campfire scent that hides his usual cinnamon smell. The urge to lick his skin there to see if he tastes the same as he smells is brief and frankly confusing. Somehow I manage to keep my tongue in my mouth.
“It could have been Rae,” I whisper. “It kills me to think of her like how we found Kristen.”
Ronan tenses and his arms hug me impossibly tighter. “It wasn’t and for that we can be thankful.”
It seems like maybe we’ve gone long past an appropriate hug time, but I can’t find it in me to pull away. Ronan doesn’t try either. Luckily, it’s late and dark, allowing us a rare moment of privacy.
In this moment, I can almost pretend everything is fine. That there aren’t monsters or trespassers threatening my family. That tonight is any other ordinary night in the Jamison household. That my biggest life problem is Raegan stealing my knife.
I hold onto the moment just a little while longer because the second I let Ronan go, the harsh reality will intrude once more.
We won’t be safe again until these people are gone.
And, starting tomorrow, I’m going to do whatever it takes to make that happen.
* * *
* * *
It’s days like these that really make me wish we lived in town near Wild and his family. Not that I would willingly choose to be near that douchebag, but it would mean access to hospitals and the police.
As it stands, we have a woman who may or may not be going into labor, a teenage boy badly injured after a bear mauling yesterday, and a traumatized woman who was snatched from her bed last night and God only knows what happened to her.
We are so not equipped to handle this.
My parents are trying, though. For people who don’t like outsiders, they’ve really stepped up to help them. Like letting them move their camp last night within our fenced-in boundaries and set up their tents on the west lawn near Dad’s workshop. I slept a lot easier last night knowing CJ and the rest weren’t going to get hurt. Everyone is as safe as they can be thanks to Dad’s generosity.
At least, within the week, Uncle Atticus will be here for a visit, bringing much-needed medicines and supplies that we can use.
CJ tosses a twig my way and flashes me a grin. I smile back, shaking my head. Despite all the trauma everyone has been through in the past few days, I can count on CJ to make things feel somewhat normal. Ryder hates him and would probably beat his ass if he had an opportunity alone with him, but I like CJ. Not to mention, he’s a good kisser.
While the men are hashing out a plan to hunt down whomever hurt Kristen, the memory of my kiss with CJ distracts me. It started out sweet—just a peck on the lips—and when I laughed at the surprise of it, he plunged his tongue into my mouth. At first it felt weird, but the way he groaned with such fiery need and pressed his body against mine, I got dizzy with pleasure.
I felt CJ’s hard penis pressing against me, which made me a little nervous and a lot happy, but then Ryder, like always, ruined all my fun.
I still don’t understand why Ryder hates CJ so much. Even Destiny has thawed when it comes to the new people and is now sitting near Jace, nodding at whatever he whispers to her. These people are nice and funny and most importantly a break from the monotony.
As if cued into my thoughts, CJ meets my gaze, pointedly looks toward Ronan’s cabin, and winks. His suggestion is loud and clear: Let’s slip away so we can make out. A warm flush tickles over my skin at the thought of his tongue in my mouth again.
But then I feel it.
Ryder’s glare.
He watches me with fire in his eyes, jaw clenching furiously. Yesterday, he was so pissed. CJ’s lucky he didn’t earn himself a black eye. Had Ronan not intervened, I’m sure Ryder would have decked him.
But why?
Because he doesn’t want me to be happy?
Or is it something else?
My thoughts flit back to when Ryder had me pinned as he attempted to steal my knife. He’d been hard just like CJ. Maybe he hates CJ because he secretly wishes it were him kissing me instead.
The thought is alarming, confusing, and annoying.
CJ attempts to get my attention again, making an exaggerated gesture toward the cabin. Tempting, but not with Ryder watching my every move. I purse my lips and give CJ a quick shake of my head, turning him down. For now. He frowns, giving me the saddest puppy dog eyes I’ve ever seen. Not one to be guilted into doing anything, I dart my stare back over to Ryder.
He’s no longer seemingly pissed. Ryder has relaxed, sprawling out his long, muscular jean-clad legs out in front of him and now wears a satisfied smirk. His bright blue eyes twinkle in the afternoon sun. Normally, I don’t look at him with more than typical sibling annoyance, but today I notice what someone like Mya sees in him.
My brother is beautiful.
Tall and strong.
His dark hair is messy—always—but it’s as though he planned it that way. It suits him. My fingers twitch at the thought of running them through the mahogany strands in an attempt to tame them. The stubble along his jaw indicates just how much of a man he’s becoming. It seems like just last year he was boyish and antagonistic and immature. As of late, he’s far from boyish if his big, hard cock has any say so. While he’s still one to push my buttons, it’s not unwelcome. I kind of look forward to our bickering because he challenges me in a way no one else can or will.
“…rotating perimeter watch shifts until we catch those bastards,” Dad says, cutting through my blatant admiration of my brother. “Any questions?”
I blink away the haze I’d skipped off into and look over at my father. He stands between Michael and Owen, arms crossed over his muscular chest, waiting for anyone to speak up.
“I’m going to hunt them down,” Ryder vows. “We leave at dusk?”
“I’ll be ready,” I tell them both. “I’m a good tracker.”
