Marie Harte - Roane

Was it any wonder he loved her?

He fumed as he checked the gun at his side, a specially constructed weapon that fit his overlarge grip.

He’d given her time, hadn’t he? How fucking hard was it to say “I love you, Roane. You are my everything?” Maybe that was pushing it, but couldn’t Caitlyn see how he felt? He’d given her damned flowers. He’d picked his shit up around her, tried to calm down the swearing, and even did her fucking laundry.

So desperate to find out what he’d done wrong, he’d done the unthinkable and asked the one guy on their team who had more experience with women than any of them. He glared at Hale. The playboy with the charming smile. The asshole with the biggest mouth.

Belatedly realizing the futility in getting an answer out of their resident Lothario, Roane had done the smart thing and turned to Kelly for answers. The flowers had worked, if that kiss Caitlyn gave him was anything to go by.

“She’ll say it when she’s ready,” he growled, caught up in woman problems.

Zack shook his head with amused sympathy. “Now you’re brooding. Damn, Roane.

You have her in bed. She’s in your life, you’ve mated with her. What’s the big deal about a few words?”

“So if and when you finally get the balls to approach Kelly, how will you feel if she doesn’t say them?”

Zack’s grin faded. “Point taken.”

“Right. Now let’s leave my love life alone and focus on the job. Hale, Derrick, and Zack, you three handle the PPA. Got your tranqs?”

They nodded.

“Ace, you’re with me. With some luck, maybe this chick isn’t too psycho. Maybe Doc can save her.”

Gunshots followed several deep, guttural shrieks coming from inside the house. A body flew through the glass window to lie on the back lawn. The blood over the man’s ravaged face looked ink black under the waning moonlight. His broken body didn’t twitch, and probably never would again.

“Then again, maybe Doc can’t save this one,” Ace muttered as the team tore through the woods.

“What a fucking mess.” Hale pushed two bodies aside as they stepped gingerly through the bloodbath inside the house.

Apparently, in the week it had taken them to pinpoint her newest location, Sherry Thomas had done some damage. There were a dozen bodies littering the floor, all mangled and bloodied. It looked as if an animal had ripped through them. Computer equipment and recording devices were blinking and sizzling, courtesy of what looked like an acid that had been thrown over them. Great. The PPA hadn’t left anything to chance, except for their lives.

Roane studied the poor woman on the ground in front of him. In death, she’d resumed her normal form, no longer able to sustain the energy her inner beast needed. Looking as she did, an innocent young woman, no one would place her as the butcher behind so many bodies. Yet she’d taken them all out, savagely so.

The bullet between her eyes had been a merciful death.

She’d begged him to end it while ripping a PPA agent in half. Which had made it all the sadder. She’d retained enough of her sanity to know she was a monster.

“Shit. Roane, come here.” Derrick signaled the others over as well.

Ace whistled. “Hell. Maybe something good did come of this.” Vincent Hoff stared sightlessly at them from his position on the floor. His neck was broken, his body ripped in half. A trio of hunting knives stabbed his groin.

“I don’t think it would be a far guess to say Sherry didn’t like Hoff much.” Hale shook his head. “I wouldn’t put rape past the bastard.” The thought that Hoff had violated this woman, that he might have done the same to Caitlyn, stirred the beast to rouse. “Good riddance,” Roane rumbled and clenched the pistol in his hand.

“One less PPA asshole to deal with,” Derrick agreed. “By the looks of things, Sherry did the organization some damage. I count eleven other bodies.”

“Plus the ones I found in the bedroom,” Zack said, reappearing from the hallway looking somber. “This place wasn’t hers. It belonged to the Foyer family, as we knew from our surveillance and research. But they never had a chance to finish moving out.” Much of the small house’s furniture was gone. A few pieces remained in the garage and at odd places throughout the house. “How many?” Roane asked.

“Four bodies.” Zack paused, his eyes bleak. “One was a kid.” Silence fell over the room.

Roane cleared his throat. “Call it in, Hale. Let Doc know our status.” He leaned down over Sherry Thomas’s body and closed her eyes.

“Doc’s notified the local authorities.” Hale nodded to the remaining PPA agents they’d subdued. “We just need to finish dumping the PPA bastards she didn’t get to out in the woods. Another hour and these four will be up and running.” Though they had no love for Elliot Pearl and his PPA madness, they refused to kill outright unless in self-defense. Roane took pride in that. It made them one more step above the dicks that hunted them.

“Let’s wrap this up, then. I’ve got an itch to get home.” An itch with honey blonde hair and emerald green eyes.

“Just keep us out of your ‘scratching’ from now on,” Derrick grumbled.

“No problem.” Roane felt a burst of humor, a welcome respite from the grim reality around them. Since the night Caitlyn had bonded with the squad, her desire for the others had faded. Doc was right. Once the connection had taken, her sexual urges remained fixed to him and only him. Thank God. He didn’t know if he could share her again.

The nagging worry that the squad’s next mating heat might push her into needing them once more tugged at him, but he’d decided to cross that bridge when he came to it. No use worrying about that shit when he had other, more pressing matters to attend. Namely, this bloody chaos…and a woman who couldn’t commit.

Tired of waiting, he made a decision. When he returned, he and Caitlyn were going to discuss her feelings to his satisfaction and hopefully hers.

Except when he returned home, no one was there. Two notes were tucked under magnets on the refrigerator. Doc and Diego had gone shopping for food. So Diego was back.

Kelly and Caitlyn… Gone to the beach. Back soon.

Roane saw red.

“Hey, where is everybody?” Hale asked as he entered the kitchen. He saw Roane and froze. “What? What happened? Are they okay?”

The others filed into the room, staring from Roane to the fridge. As Hale read the notes aloud, everyone relaxed. Except for Roane.

Derrick had the gall to chuckle. “Trouble. I told you, man. With a capital T.” Zack and Ace shared a glance. They hadn’t sniped at one another the entire time they’d been away from the compound. A new record. And one Roane could care less about as he envisioned Caitlyn in danger.

“Someone’s here.” Hale looked behind him at the sound of a car coming up the drive.

After a minute, the door opened, and feminine laughter filled the silent house. “Oh, boy. You know, I’m hungry. Anyone want to join me for a burger at the diner?” A chorus of “hell, yes” followed the others out the kitchen.

“Kelly.” Hale grabbed a hold of her arm as they passed. “You hungry?”

“Hey, Hale! Actually, I just came from lunch but…” Her gaze lit on Roane glaring at Caitlyn. “You know, I am. Um, Caitlyn? See you later.” She left in a hurry.

Roane said nothing. He waited -- always fucking waiting for this woman -- as Caitlyn took wary steps toward him. His beast wanted out, to punish his mate for disobeying. For scaring the shit out of him. Roane tamped it down. Barely.

“Roane. I missed you.” Caitlyn ignored his anger and stood on tiptoe to kiss his chin.