My Feline Protector (Middlemarch Shifters Book 6) (22 page)

“She told me they’d argued and reconciled recently, but not what the argument was about. She said her husband used his fists,” Henry said. “We didn’t have much time to discuss things.”

Gerard squeezed Henry’s biceps. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. Is London okay?”

“She will be,” Gerard said. “Once we catch this bastard.”

Gerard’s cell phone rang. He didn’t recognized the caller. “Hello, Anderson and Drummond Security.”

“Hello. This is Matthew Jonas. I’m a real estate agent in Wanaka. My client has purchased a home here or at least he’s ready to sign the sale and purchase documents. He’s a famous author and doesn’t want strangers wandering around the property. He wants an idea of how much it will cost to put in security features—lights and cameras plus a security fence. Would you be able to give him a quote?”

“Did someone refer you?” Gerard asked. They hadn’t started advertising yet.

“Yes, the owners of the Gilcrest Station recommended you to my client. He’s staying there at present,” Matthew Jonas said. “Now, are you able to do a quote? The sooner, the better.”

Gerard checked his watch. “It will take me three hours to drive to Wanaka. I could meet you or your client at one, if that’s suitable.”

“Perfect. I’ll text you the address. I will meet you at the property at one.”

Gerard hung up. “Another job. Just a quote, but the word is getting out.”

“What’s the job?”

“Property security. Cameras, lights and fencing. He didn’t mention inside the property, but I guess it will be clearer once I see the place.”

“I’m sorry this is falling on you.”

“No problem,” Gerard said. “I’m sure it won’t be for much longer. Once your name is cleared, things will return to normal.” Or as normal as they could be when a shifter lost his mate. It wasn’t bloody fair. Most shifters never found their true mate, the being who completed them. To have a true mate murdered, scarcely before the relationship began, must be hell.

“Car coming,” Henry said.

Gerard left the room and entered the lounge, so he could peer out the window. The tension slid from his shoulders. Isabella and Leo. He went to answer the door.

“Our man didn’t make an appearance,” Leo said once the door closed after them. “Not a peep. Felix and Saber saw no one either.”

“Come and have a coffee.” Gerard led the way into the kitchen and was pleased to see London had emerged. Her eyes bore large shadows beneath them, and she was pale, but she smiled. He winked in return, relieved she’d picked herself up after last night. He’d worried about her.

“So what’s the plan?” Leo asked. “Should we stake out the place tonight?”

“I can’t,” Isabella said. “I’ve got my practice self-defense class tonight—the one for Emily and our friends. Are you still coming, London? I need someone with experience to help out.”

“I’ll be there,” London said. “Although I don’t know that I’d call myself experienced. I’ve taken two different classes in Bath.”

“I can keep an eye on the house again tonight,” Leo offered. “The idea of him out there, taunting London. He needs to be stopped.”

“We’ll stop him.” Henry straightened from his slouch against the counter. “He’ll make a mistake soon.”

“He will,” Isabella agreed.

London sighed. “I hope so. I can’t take much more, this looking over my shoulder.”

“Fancy time away from Middlemarch? I’ve got to go to Wanaka to do a quote. Wanna come with me?”

She nodded. “Jenny and I didn’t have time to visit Wanaka. I’ve heard the lake is pretty.”

“Once I’ve done the quote we can spend a few hours sightseeing. They’ve filmed movies there. You know. Those ones with the elves,” Gerard said.

London glanced at him, the corners of her mouth curling up in an almost smile. “You’d better not say that to movie fans. Those movies were popular.”

“Not my thing,” Gerard said, after everyone finished laughing at him. He didn’t care, though, because London looked brighter. He’d do anything to make her happy.

* * * * *

“You have such beautiful scenery in New Zealand.” They drove past farmland and vineyards, rivers and small country towns on the way to Wanaka, the tourist town on the banks of a lake by the same name.

She pulled her attention from the scenery to study Gerard. Since last night he’d been so good to her, yet a part of her felt embarrassed by both her behavior and the fact she’d allowed herself to become a victim. She’d known she should have broken off the relationship with Royce earlier. She’d even sensed there had been someone else, but she’d never considered her sister as the other woman since work commitments had kept her away so often.

“None of this is your fault.” Gerard’s hand landed on hers and squeezed.

“Are you a mind-reader and a hero?”

“I’m an ordinary man.”

She sniffed. “There is nothing ordinary about you, Gerard Drummond. You’re a special man.”

“Once this is over, we’ll go on holiday. One of the Pacific Islands. How does that sound?”

“What about your business?”

“Henry has been asking his stepfather to visit ever since we arrived here. If he has to fill in for me for two weeks, he might actually come. I know that would please Henry. He needs his family and his friends around him now.”

“I’d love a holiday in the sunshine. I’ve always wanted to go to a tropical island. Tell me which one,” she said. “Give me something to look forward to.”

Gerard returned his hand to the steering wheel as they reached the outskirts of Wanaka. “Me too. We could go to Fiji or Western Samoa or Rarotonga. We’ll check out the internet when we’re home in Middlemarch. I love the idea of seeing you in a bikini.”

“Don’t own one. I-everyone told me I was too big to wear a bikini.”

“Bullshit,” Gerard said. “You have seriously sexy curves that will rock a bikini. The only thing we’ll need to be careful of is not getting your pale skin sunburned.” He grinned and his eyes drifted toward feline. “I can’t wait to rub lotion on you. It won’t be a hardship.”

“Sounds lovely.”

“We could even get married over there.”

Her lips parted. No,
no
, she was actually gaping. She pressed her lips together and stared at him.

“Too soon? I wanted you to know the direction of my thoughts. I want you for my mate. You know that. Since you’re human, you’ll want marriage. It’s the human way.”

“Don’t felines get married?”

“Not all the time. If both parties are feline, they can mark each other and that process is tighter than marriage vows.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“I’m fine with that,” Gerard said. “This is the right street. The impression the real estate agent gave me was that the house was private and at the end of a long driveway. You going to act as my office assistant again?”

“Sure. The quicker we get this done, the longer we’ll have to sightsee. Is the real estate agent meeting us here?”

“So he said.” He drove around a bend and the house came into view. A silver Mercedes sedan sat in front of the house. “That must be him. The notebook and pen are on the rear seat.”

“Where is he?”

“The front door is open. He must be inside.”

They climbed from the SUV and approached the front door.

“Hello,” Gerard called. “Anyone there?”

“In here,” a masculine voice called.

Gerard headed toward the voice and London trailed him. He stalked through the door and disappeared. London hurried to catch up. She heard a thump, darted through the door and came to an abrupt halt. Gerard lay on the floor, still, and she could see blood trickling down his face.

Royce stood over him, a smirk twisting his expression. “Hello, sweetheart. Bet you didn’t expect to see me.”

London took two quick steps back, blinking, even though she’d expected Royce, sensed she’d been right to fear he was the one who killed Jenny. “Y-you killed Jenny.”

“The bitch owed me.”

“
You killed her
.”

“She wanted a divorce. Bitch thought she could click her fingers and get rid of me, thought she could keep her money. After all I went through.”

London pressed her hand to her mouth and inched away. Gerard wasn’t moving. Her gaze returned to Royce. He’d dropped weight, his face was leaner than she remembered, the furrow between his brows and the ones bracketing his mouth more obvious than when she’d last seen him.

“If she hadn’t opened her mouth, she wouldn’t have died, but the bitch told me she’d changed her will. Told me and laughed, so I shoved the knife in her chest. Just wanted to scare her, but the bitch
laughed
at me.”

London’s gaze darted to the door they’d entered, and she whirled, making a run for it. Not quick enough. He seized her, one hand branding her upper arm, and the other fisted in her ponytail.

“I have nothing you need,” she gritted out, tears of pain overflowing, splashing her cheeks.

He hauled her around to face him, his cheeks and jaws mottled with anger. He pushed his face close to hers. “Bitch told me she’d left everything to you. If I get rid of you, I won’t have a problem.”

A horn blared from her jacket pocket, the booming sound making her jump. “It’s my friend. She’s expecting me to call.”

Confidence oozed from him. Entitlement. And it pissed her off. Anger spilled through her, a whoosh of fiery heat and resentment. She might have been a victim once, but no longer. Royce released his grip a fraction to grope in her pocket, turning her body so she faced away from him and it was easier for him to grab her phone.

The relaxation of his guard.

Idiot.

She wasn’t the same mouse he’d raped. The classes she’d taken in Bath flew through her mind like a slow-moving movie. She gripped his forearms and dropped her weight downward, taking him by surprise. The instant she had her balance, she stomped on his foot, hard. He shouted, his weight hunching forward as pain took control. She shoved back her elbow, shouting when it connected with his cheekbone.

Yes! Royce seemed stunned by her boldness. Encouraged, her second sharp jab landed a blow on his nose. A sharp crunch sounded as something broke. Royce howled but London didn’t wait to assess the damage.

Where was her phone? She scanned the floor and couldn’t see it. Instead of searching, she took off for the door, sprinting along the carpeted passage and outside, each breath clawing up her throat and bursting free in a hoarse gasp.

Help
.

Royce wouldn’t give up that easily.

She needed help.

A red SUV pulled up, and a man dressed in a navy-blue suit climbed from the driver’s side. He gaped at her.

“Call the cops!” she screamed, still running. “He’s got a gun.”

To her horror, the man shut his door and walked toward her, an uncertain smile fading in and out of his expression.

A loud bellow rang out behind her, a feline snarl. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Royce in the doorway. Huh! She’d made his nose bleed. Good job.

Royce skidded to a halt. “Grab her! The woman is insane. She attacked me. Hurry up, man.” He swiped blood from his face. “Before she injures you too.”

London gaped as the new arrival backed toward his vehicle. “Don’t listen to him,” she screeched, incensed at Royce.

Bastard
.

He still thought he could get away with killing Jenny.

“He murdered my sister. He’s wanted by the Middlemarch police. Ring them if you don’t believe me.”

“The cops are on their way,” the new arrival shouted. London assumed it was the real estate agent. The elderly man darted the remaining distance to his vehicle.

“You didn’t ring them,” Royce said, his manner confident. “I saw you arrive. Run away, old man, and let me deal with this delusional woman.”

“Call the cops,” London shrieked, poised to flee if Royce came any closer. “Idiot. He’s gonna kill you too.” Sugar, was Gerard okay? He’d looked…dead. A sob tore at her throat, but she refused to crumple into victim again.

The real estate man started his vehicle, backed up, then floored his accelerator. His SUV fishtailed and roared like an angry beast before gaining traction on the gravel surface and shooting down the driveway.

Sugar,
please
let him call the cops, if he hadn’t already.

“What are you gonna do now, London?” Royce taunted her, strolling toward her as if he had all the time in the world.

“You murdered Jenny.”

“Your point?” His arrogant smirk held confidence, and he kept edging closer.

She couldn’t let him grab her again. She’d been lucky last time and wouldn’t take him unawares again.

A feline snarl erupted from the house.

“What the hell?” Royce demanded, his gaze divided between her and the doorway of the property.

Hope surged in London as Gerard appeared in the doorway. His T-shirt hung in tatters around his glossy chest. The fur along his spine stood to attention.