Seduced By A Wolf (16 page)

Derrick Senior crowded her, walking almost on her heels. Just a few more steps and he’ll be gone. She was reaching for the doorknob when a violent shove from behind had her crashing into the wood of the door—face first.

Derrick Senior’s ham-like hands came up and grabbed her by the throat in a strangle hold. He shook her viciously, smashing Von’s head repeatedly against the door. She tried to fight, to get loose, but he was too big, too strong, and had the element of surprise on his side.

Unable to breathe, she rapidly lost strength, black spots appearing before her eyes. Just when she knew she was dead, Derrick Senior flung her aside like a ragdoll. She crumpled on the floor, hands on her throat, coughing and gasping for air. The first kick landed in her stomach. The second, her ribs. She curled into a fetal position, arms cradling her head, trying to protect as much of her body as possible as his hard-toe dress shoes made repeated contact with her fragile body.

He suddenly leaned down and snatched her head back by her hair. “Did you think my son wouldn’t tell me how you whored yourself with his friend, turning the two of them against each other? How you tried to entice Derrick by coming to him half naked, and when he resisted, you seduced his friend instead?” Derrick Senior’s eyes glittered madly.

He’s crazy
!
How had he managed to hide it so well?

He looked on her with disdain. “You women are all alike. Connivers, manipulators, like Jezebel, you use your wiles to try and control men. But I’ll teach you, same way I taught my wife.”

He yanked hard on her head, dragging a cry of pain out of Von. Then he wrapped her hair around his fist, using it to pin her to the floor. Von forced her body to unfold and swing, despite the pain her action caused. She missed when he jerked back.

He hit her again, casually, painfully, the way one would swat an insect. Von tried to fight but was easily subdued. “I don’t know what the hell my son saw in you. He could have done much better,” he grunted.

Derrick Senior grabbed her t-shirt by the neckline, under her chin, and ripped the shirt down the middle. Releasing her hair, he mauled both breasts, squeezing hard. Von screamed and fought like a wildcat, managing to catch his face with her nails. Bloody welts appeared.

In retaliation he backhanded her, his blow landing on the same side as Derrick’s. Stars exploded behind her eyes and everything went dark.

Can’t pass out
.

Von fought with everything inside of her to stay conscious, terror giving her the needed strength. She felt his hands on the zipper of her jeans and lashed out with her feet. There was a meaty thud as she connected, the impact rocking him backwards. This time he roared.

He fell on top of her, his fists raining mighty blows to her unprotected body. She was barely conscious when he flipped her onto her stomach and snatched the waistband of her pants. Von felt cool air hit her butt, then heard him fumbling with his buckle.

No, this is not happening. I didn’t survive my momma’s boyfriends to go out like this.

She pushed onto her elbows and tried to crawl away.

“Stubborn bitch. Just like my wife. Never knew when to give up.” He captured her by the ankle and dragged her back. His hands were on her hips, yanking her into position when a loud popping sound filled the air.

Derrick Senior bucked on top of Von. She whimpered, in pain and fear, expecting at any moment to feel the steel rod of his flesh ripping through her. Instead, he shoved off her, yelling angrily. Von heard the sound again, rapid fire this time.
Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop
!

Then there was a loud, floor-shaking thud as something heavy hit the ground. She heard moaning, a “Take that, you bastard!” and then a masculine scream of pain.

“Von, damn it, I told you not to open the fucking door. When will you listen to me?” A shadow fell over her and she flinched away from the hands reaching for her. “It’s all right. It’s me.” Gentle hands straightened her clothes. “
2581 Bartram Ave, Apartment 4-B...Rescue...my cousin’s beat pretty bad, and you probably better send the cops since I emptied my clip into the asshole I caught trying to rape her.
”

“Hurts,” she whimpered.

“
Derrick Wilkins Senior...No, he’s not dead yet, but if you don’t get here soon, maybe.
” To Von she said, “I know, honey. Hold on, Von. Help’s com—
Yeah, she’s conscious, barely...I’ll stay on the line.”

“Not safe,” she whispered, hearing but not really comprehending what was being said.

“Trust me, he’s not going anywhere. If he moves, the next bullet’s hitting his head or his dick. You got that, asshole?”

“Call...Sean...warn...”

“Hush, now. I’ll take care of everything.”

Trusting her cousin to do just that, Von gave up her fight to stay conscious.

The uneasy feeling in Sean's gut became full-blown panic when he turned into Von's apartment complex and saw the police crime scene tape cordoning off the entry to her quad's parking area and additional tape blocking the upstairs walkway. Dust and gravel flew up in a cloud as he came to a screeching halt. He had the door open and his feet were pounding the pavement before the truck finished rocking.

As he approached the police car parked at an angle with its lights flashing, hindering access, two uniformed officers stepped forward. "Sir, this area's off limits."

"My fiancé lives in 4B."

The cop on the left pressed his shoulder mike. "Sir, I have the vic's fiancé here."

"Roger that..."

The rest of what was said was gobble, Sean's mind having taken a binder on hearing Von referred to as the "vic." Terror, unlike anything he'd ever known, struck him right in the heart, weakening his knees and racing his heartbeat. Sweat broke out over his body. A slight breeze arose, and he scented the faintly metallic odor of blood. A lot of it.

"Sir, you can..."

Sean pushed past the officers, jumped up and slid over the hood of the cruiser, landed and went sprinting toward the stairs. Curious bystanders loitering, the Crime Scene Unit’s Van, EMT and Fire vehicle with their engines idling, all a blur. A few feet short of his goal, an officer tried to stop him. Sean darted around him and in seconds, was over the crime scene tape. Another misfortunate officer made the mistake of seizing Sean by the arm. Instinct and training kicked in and without a thought, and Sean flipped the guy into air and was moving before his body landed.

The angry shouts of men simply an annoying buzz in his ear, he kept his eyes and mind focused on reaching Von.

“Stop!”

“Somebody get him!”

A body tackle from behind brought him down.

Sean rolled and came to his feet with a feral growl, ready to take out anyone or anything trying to keep him from his mate. He crouched, arms hanging loose and ready. Several officers moved to surround him. He turned so that he could keep everyone within sight.

"Stand down!" The order was barked out.

"But he assaulted an officer..."

Through the haze covering his vision, Sean noted the weapons drawn, pointed at him. He growled again and felt the first painful flickers of the shift hit his body. His beast wanted out.

"I said, STAND DOWN. That's an order! Bentley and Cruise, hit the streets. You’re not needed here. Anderson and McKinsey, back to your position. I'll handle this.”

There were murmurs and grumblings as his order was obeyed. Weapons were lowered but not holstered.

In the waning sunlight, the flashing red, white, and blue lights created a strobe effect that hurt his eyes. Out of his peripheral vision, Sean caught movement. He seamlessly altered his position to meet this new threat, a low, ominous growl vibrating almost continuously from his chest.

“Steady, son. You don’t want to let him out. Not here, not now,” he stated in a low, quiet voice. The man moved, taking slow, measured steps, his hands outstretched in a non-threatening manner. Sean mirrored his movements, and gradually they pivoted until the wind was in his face.

The scent of Lycan, of the brotherhood rode its subtle wave. It was enough to confuse his beast, make him hesitate. The cop was quick to make note of it. “That’s right, son. I’m family. Trust me.”

“Mate?” It came out guttural.

“She’s hurt but she’s safe. We got the man who hurt her. He won’t get to her again.”

Sean slowly uncoiled from his crouch. The change retreated enough for him to think.

The cop kept talking. “She was beaten pretty badly. The EMT’s are with her now. I know you want to be with her but I need you to wait until my team does its job. Let them gather the evidence they need.”

“Who?”
did this
, his mind finished, but he was still locked into one-word responses. His beast prowled just beneath the surface like an unreachable itch.

The cop’s radio crackled. “Sarge, we got another guy at the gate claiming to be the vic’s fiancé. A Derrick Wilkins Junior. Let him in?”

At the name Sean fell into a crouch again, and his gums tingled as his fangs lengthened. His fingertips ached as his nails hardened and grew.

“Negative. Deny access.” He released the button and sighed. “Son, we gotta work on your control. How long since you were changed?”

Sean shook his head hard, fighting to subdue his beast. He had better control than this. “A few months.”

“You’re not local.” It was a question disguised as a statement. Sean focused on the cop’s voice.

“No, sir.”

“What’s your name, son?”

Sean had to force himself to concentrate, to push past the distraction and think. “Master Sergeant Sean Jacobson.”

“Army. Stationed here at Fort Stewart?”

“No.” Sean’s gazed strayed toward the apartment and he tensed, the desire to be with his mate once again overwhelming him.

“Look at me, son.”

The command in the older gentleman’s voice could not be denied. Sean brought his attention back to the cop.

“Your mate, what’s her name?”

“Von Washington.”

“Good. Good. You and Von, you been mated long?”

“No, sir.”

“That explains the other fiancé,” he mumbled to himself.

Again his gaze strayed to the windows of the apartment where he could see lots of movement.

The cop laid a hand on Sean’s arm. “On me, son. On me.”

Sean looked at the hand, then the cop’s face.

“You were here, earlier?”

Right then, EMTs pushing a gurney came rushing by shouting orders. They loaded a male into the back of the Rescue unit and took off, lights flashing, siren wailing.

The cop shook his head. “The bastard might make it, but it’s doubtful. The cousin pumped him full of bullets. Be a miracle if he doesn’t bleed out on the table.”

Sean really didn’t give a damn. He wanted to rip the man who’d dared to hurt his mate apart with his bare hands. He took a step forward.

The cop smoothly moved into his path. “Uh-uh, son. Focus on me. Forget about him.”

When Sean settled, he said, “Back to my question. You were here earlier?”

“Spent the night. Left. Needed clothes, gear.”

“So you went back to the base.” Sean gave a short nod. “About what time?”

“Hour and a half, maybe two hours. Picked up movies. Food.” Both of which were sitting in the truck. “Shouldn’t have left, should have made her come with me.”

“So, she was alone when you left?”

“Yes.”

“Was she expecting anyone?”

“No. Maybe. She said she was calling her cousin.”

Another group of EMT’s came down the stairs with another strapped down body—Von. She was already hooked up to an IV and one of the medics was working on her. “
Multiple facial and body contusions; bruised, possibly broken ribs; probable internal bleeding. Her BP’s all over the place...”

Sean didn’t hear the rest of the litany. When the gurney hit the pavement, he was beside it, keeping pace.

“Sir, we need you to back away.”

“How is she? She’s going to be all right?”

When the doors to Rescue opened, Sean made to climb inside with the others. The cop appeared by his side, blocking him. “You don’t want to do that, son. No telling how long you’ll be stuck at the hospital with no transportation. Go get your vehicle and follow.”

Sean didn’t waste any time arguing. He heard the cop explaining to the EMTs as he ran off, “The fiancé.”

****

The sour scent of pain, anger, despair, and disillusionment along with the chemical smells of disinfectant, medicine and other nameless odors hit him in the back of his throat the minute the glass doors swooshed open. The waiting room was packed, as was the case with most county hospitals, with the men, women, crying babies and quarrelling children. Sean ignored all of it, his attention focused on the sign, I
NFORMATION
D
ESK
, straight ahead.

“Von Washington. Rescue just brought her in.”

The harried looking woman behind the desk barely looked up from the paperwork she was sorting. “Have a seat. The doctor will come out and see you when he has news.”

“She’s my fiancé. I want to go into the back with her.”

She did glance up then, eyes narrowed in aggravation. “Have...a...seat.”

Sean took a deep, open-mouth breath to gain control. “Can you have someone let her know I’m here?”

The woman rolled her eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Master Sergeant Sean Jacobson.” He should have had on his uniform. Maybe then he’d get some respect.

She scribbled something on a stickey notepad. “Got it. Now, please, have a seat.”

Sean forced himself away from the window and went and leaned against a wall facing the double doors from which the doctor would exit. His position also allowed him to see the Emergency Room entrance. Despite his relaxed pose, the scowl on his face and angry vibe had a nearby elderly couple relocating to a different area. Others kept giving him wary looks.

Thirty minutes later, Von’s grandmother and some other relatives he recognized from photos Von had sent over the years arrived. The lady at the desk gave them the same routine. “Have a seat and someone will be with you shortly.”