Wolver's Rescue (9 page)

“
Just shoot me,” she
muttered to the dust bunny under her nose.

“
You sure don’t make it easy
on yourself, do you, spitfire? What in hell are you doing
now?”

“
I’m stuck under the bed,”
she said, stating what she considered the obvious. She heard him
chuckle.

“
You can’t be. You’re not
big enough to get stuck under a bed.”

Tommie could hear him moving and paper
rattling as he settled bags on the desk, and the smell. The aroma
of hot food filled the room.

“
Shows how much you know,”
she grumbled. “Are you going to help me?” She tried to turn her
head to see where he was. She hissed at the yank to her
scalp.

“
I don’t know,” he drawled
lazily. “The view from up here looks pretty good.
Tempting.”

“
That’s not
funny.”

Bull let out his breath in a long drawn out
sigh. “Nope, not funny at all.” He got down on his knees to look
beneath the bed. “Flatten out on your stomach.”

Easier said than done. Her left arm was still
attached to the bed. Bull had to climb over, practically straddle
her, before he could release the cuff on the bed. He then lifted
the frame enough for her to flatten her body against the smelly
carpet. A few seconds later, he was lying beside her on his
back.

“
Let’s take a look.” He
didn’t bother to hide his laugh. Once he understood her
predicament, he maneuvered his arm up and under her
head.

“
Rest your forehead on my
arm,” he directed. “You pulling down puts too much tension on your
hair. I need some play to get it loose.”

“
And the weirdness
continues,” Tommie thought to herself. Being stuck under the bed
with her nose to his shoulder had just replaced shower number two.
The scent of him underneath the faint layer of cheap motel soap
filled her head with naughty thoughts. What normal person had
thoughts like this when they were stuck under a bed?

“
Thought you could slip the
cuff off the frame, huh?” He laughed at her sigh as his fingers
fiddled behind her head. “The cuff won’t fit over the plate at the
end. If you’d asked, I could have told you it wouldn’t work. Are
you sniffing me?”

“
What? No! Of course not.
Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I be sniffing you? I felt a sneeze
coming on. Just get my damn hair unstuck.” Please God, just get her
hair unstuck. “And what do you mean you could have told me? Are you
in the habit of handcuffing women to beds?”

“
Nah, not women. Never had
the need. It’s always men.” His fingers stopped. His body froze.
“Wait a minute, that didn’t come out right”

“
Which part?” she asked. If
he was saying what she thought he was, it would go a long way in
eliminating the funny business thoughts from her head. That should
have made her feel better. It didn’t.

“
I never found the need to
cuff a woman. In my line of work, I deal with men.”

“
Your line of work?” Good
God, he couldn’t mean it. “Are you saying you’re a prostitute?” She
knew she sounded incredulous and maybe just a little disappointed.
She couldn’t picture the big guy selling his services in bathrooms
and seedy motels, although that was exactly what this one was.
“Holy shit!”

“
Holy shit!” he said at the
same time. “No. Hell no. I’m an investigator. That’s my business.
My pleasures are strictly reserved for women.”

“
Oh,” she squeaked. She felt
the tugging at the back of her head relax.

“
Done,” he said, “Ready for
something to eat?”

“
Yes.”

Anything would be better than lying here with
her ear to his chest listening to his heartbeat. She needed food
much more than she needed the strangely exciting scent of him
beneath her nose. She nuzzled her face into him one more time and
decided food could wait. Snuggling wasn’t going to give her the
energy she needed to escape, but neither was a hamburger, and
Bull’s hard chest beneath her and strong arm wrapped around her,
was much more pleasurable. She bet he tasted better, too.

She settled a little more comfortably against
him and for one long minute, he didn’t move either.

“
Food’s going cold,” he
finally whispered.

“
Yes,” she said and this
time, she reluctantly slid from beneath the bed. She wouldn’t want
him to get the wrong idea.

With the opening of the first plastic
container from a local all-night truck stop, Tommie’s mouth began
to water.

Bull started to explain the selection. “I
didn’t know what you’d like, so I picked up a couple of
different...”

Tommie, sitting cross legged on the bed, his
tee shirt tucked modestly between her legs, grabbed the first box,
not caring what it contained and began eating. She’d never had a
cheese omelet that tasted so good and the bacon, sausage, and ham
on the side were every bit as delicious.

“
If you’d rather have
meatloaf,” Bull tried again, “Or a roast beef sandwich?
Chicken?”

He laughed when Tommie kept nodding her head,
but never stopped eating. She couldn’t stop.

She tried to slow down, knew she was being
impolite, but her stomach was on fire with the need to eat. When
the first container was empty, she reached for the second, ignoring
the fact that Bull had barely started on his own meal, although she
did notice his sunny side up eggs looked delicious, too. She plowed
through most of the pile of fries, enjoying every bite, but her
body craved meat. She was halfway through the order of fried
chicken, when Bull caught the hand holding a wing.

“
Slow down. There’s no sense
packing it in if it’s going to come back up.”

He had no idea how close he came to having
his restraining hand bitten. If her mouth hadn’t been so full, she
might have growled aloud.

He pulled his hand away and held out a carton
of milk. “More protein,” he told her, “You need it. Those cuts and
bruises don’t look like they’re healing as fast as they should. You
had that bruise on your cheek when I found you. It should be gone
by now. Those cuts on your feet should be healing up, too.”

The container of milk was halfway to her
mouth. She stopped and stared. “How did you know?”

It was another piece of her weirdness. She
healed twice as fast as other people. She’d broken her arm once,
when she was six. Coincidently, another little girl in her class
had broken her arm in exactly the same way. Tommie’s cast was gone
in three weeks, the other child’s in six. A black eye turned yellow
overnight and disappeared completely in two days.

“
Because all wolvers heal
fast?”

His questioning tone made it sound like she
should know that piece of information, but she had no idea what a
wolver was.

“
Me. You. Us. Me. You. Us.
We have name. Mate!”

The thing inside her started to jump and
churn. It spun. It leapt. Tommie was pretty sure it did
somersaults. At least she hoped it was her secret friend, because
if it wasn’t, her stomach was about to erupt.

Bull must have voted for the stomach, because
he leaned over, grabbed the waste basket and held it under her
nose. “Told you, too much, too fast.”

“
Me. You. Us. Me. You. Us.
We have name. Mate!”
The damn thing
wouldn’t leave it alone.

“
Stop it.” Tommie’s whisper
hissed out between her teeth. One hand went to her stomach. The
other went to her head. “Shut up.”

Bull’s head cocked to the side. “Was that for
me?”

Damn it! She’d spoken aloud. She knew better
than to do that in front of people. She gave him her standard
excuse.

“
Oops, sorry, bad habit.
Comes from living alone.” Thrown off course, she pinched the bridge
of her nose, trying to gather her thoughts. What was the word he
used?

“
Wolver!”

“
Your wolf giving you a hard
time?” He was nodding as if he understood. “Never let your wolf
rule your human is easier said than done, yeah? Mine used to drive
me nuts. Always arguing.”

“
Excuse me? Did you say
wolf? You argue with your wolf?” She felt like a fool even saying
the words.

“
Sure, doesn’t everybody?”
The big guy shrugged and loaded the last forkful of meatloaf into
his mouth.

“
Well no, Bull, as a matter
of fact, everybody doesn’t,” she said with exaggerated patience and
just a smidgen of snark.

“
Shit, don’t tell me you’re
one of those touchy-feely nudist types.”

Tommie thought his eyes looked a little
hopeful as he wiped up the last bit of gravy and sucked it off his
finger. Watching that finger slide slowly in and out, she felt her
lower abdomen clench and her rear end rise off the bed as she
leaned toward him. Unable to take her eyes from that finger, she
licked her lips and asked weakly, “Touchy-feely nudist type?”

He set the container aside. “Yeah, you know.”
Eyes on the ceiling, hands pressed together as if in prayer, he
quoted, “Seek spiritual harmony with your wolf. Find peace through
the acceptance of your animal’s primal nature. Embrace the beast.”
He unfolded his hands and shrugged. “What they mean is, let your
wolf run wild at every full moon and nail every piece of tail
within a hundred mile radius. You wouldn’t happen to be one of
those, would you?” He wagged his eyebrows and smirked with one side
of his mouth. “You got a wild wolf hiding in there?”

“
Yes!”

“
No.” The mesmerizing moment
was broken. Tommie moved the container off her lap and shifted her
body a little closer to the edge of the bed. It sounded like this
guy was talking about a werewolf cult and he was serious. She could
tell by the look on his face. And if he was serious, he was as
crazy as she was.

“
So, you howl at the full
moon, do you?” she asked cautiously.

“
Sure, every chance I get.
Don’t you? At least at the Hunter’s Moon, or do you have an Alpha
who sends you over more often?”

Tommie swallowed hard. “Over?”

“
Yeah. Over the moon.” He
was looking at her strangely. “You know, shift to wolf.”

Holy crap. He wasn’t as crazy as she was. He
was crazier.

Was he another clinic patient who’d somehow
gotten hold of her records? Was that why he rescued her? Had he
discovered what he thought was a kindred whacko spirit?

He’d seemed so normal, but then again, so did
she for the most part, except for certain times each month when the
voice seemed to get worse. Mental illness covered a lot of
territory and most of its sufferers functioned quite well out there
in the real world. The big guy definitely needed to be reminded of
that.

“
So, what did you think was
going to happen here? And what did you think I would say?” She
clapped her hands together in mock applause. “Yipee! Thanks for the
rescue. Now our hallucinations can chat with each other and if it
all works out, maybe we can all play canasta and then hop in the
sack for a little foursome!” She pointed her finger at his nose and
shook it. “And don’t lie to me. I’m not as crazy as I
look.”

“
Could have fooled me.” He
caught the wagging finger. “I was just making conversation. You’re
the one going off the deep end. And just to set the record straight
here, I don’t even know what canasta is and I’ve never liked the
idea of ménage. Call it a character flaw, but I don’t share well
with others.” He let her finger go as quickly as he’d grabbed
it.

The television that had been quietly playing
in the background all night, switched to the early morning news.
The anchor read the day’s headlines, reiterating the piece about
the shooting at Sixth and Main, but said nothing about the killings
at the Gantnor Clinic. Nor did he mention a patient’s escape.
Murder wasn’t an everyday occurrence in this town. Three in one
night should have been big news and they always had something to
say when a patient went walkabout. The clientele of the Gantnor
Clinic made a lot of people nervous. It didn’t make sense. Then
again, maybe it did.

Tommie looked at Bull with new eyes. “You
didn’t kill anyone last night, did you?” she accused, her anger
boiling up at the torture she’d suffered and this new indignity.
“You bastard. You’re a part of this whole thing, aren’t you? You
work for him, don’t you?” She waved her hand about the room. “This
is all part of the program, isn’t it? What happened? Plan A didn’t
work, so they brought in the hot guy for Plan B? Make the poor
pitiful creature confront her demons by making her feel she’s not
alone?”

“
What program? Who am I
supposed to be working for?”

Oh, he was good, really, really good. That
look of confusion was Oscar worthy.

“
Don’t you even try that
innocent look, mister. I’m wise to you. Fool me once, shame on you.
Fool me twice, shame on me.” She spit his words back at him. “I
might have stupidly fallen for the Plan A of this half-assed
psychological experiment, but I’m sure as hell not signing on for
Plan B.” Tommie flung out her hand and pointed to the door. “You
can go back to that quack bastard who hired you and tell him that
I’m done, D-O-N-E, done. And while you’re at it, you can tell him
that I’ve finally made contact with my inner beast and if he ever
comes near me again, that beast will tear him to pieces. Now get
out.”