Jared (River Pack Wolves 3) - New Adult Paranormal Romance (10 page)

Jared snarled. This was an obvious setup to anyone with eyes to see, but there was no one in the room who would dispute it. The gang whose symbol was dripping paint would be blamed—even though that made no sense at all for a gang to come here and tag up the place. But the Senator would use it as leverage to whip his troops into a frenzy. And get voters to the polls.

Grace was shaking in his arms. He instinctively pulled her closer and pressed her head against his chest. Her gulping breaths slowly calmed.

“You’re okay, Grace. I’ve got you.” She nodded against his chest. That feeling of her moving against him, of her accepting his desire to protect her, surged his wolf twice as strong as before. He wanted nothing more than to haul her away from this place and never return. She needed to be
gone
from all of this, and he needed to have her, like this, in his arms.

And more.

That urge—that
need
for her—stunned him so badly, he actually loosened his grip and took a step back.

She looked at him with wide eyes.

He still held her shoulders. “Are you all right?” he asked, wanting to draw her back, but not daring to do it. He would end up kissing her. And then everything would come apart inside him.

She nodded quickly, and the color seemed to be returning to her face. She smoothed out her blouse and tucked it back into her skirt. She gave him a nod, then turned toward the podium where her father was still reassuring the crowd.

Jared needed to get her alone. Soon. He told himself it was just to talk, to convince her to leave. With him. But he knew it was more than that.

This desire for her felt dangerous, like he was on the edge of a precipice about to fall.

And he
wanted
to fall… all the way down.

Which surprised him most of all.

Grace’s hands had stopped their shaking, but she was still quivering inside.

Jared drove her father’s black sedan through the winding mountain roads toward her father’s estate. He sat in front, eyes on the road, as she rode in back, watching the beloved forest of her youth slip by—a steady, vision-blurring stream of green pine needles, woody trunks, and leafy undergrowth. Her body buzzed along with the whizzing scenery, numbed by the events at the rally.

So much had gone down in such a short period of time, it was like her body was in shock. Her mind, on the other hand, was going a million miles an hour. Her father’s legislation—the one she had been fighting for months—was tapping into the fears of a rabid set of people. Their hate-filled faces; their palpable anger; these were her father’s foot soldiers.
His voters.
These were the people who would cheer on his attempt to criminalize a whole swath of people.

People like her.

At the beginning of the rally, as the hall had filled to capacity, a sickening dread had trickled through her like ice water in her veins—it was a raw fear that somehow she would be discovered. That this horde of angry people would realize what she was. It was a
personal
fear, one for her own safety, even her life. One she hadn’t felt before…
ever.
She watched Jared’s stone-cold face turn into something even more hard and bitter—he wasn’t afraid, but she could see the flickers of anger below that inscrutable, chiseled expression. He’d known exactly who these people were and what they were capable of… and yet he stood by her side, unafraid to face them, so he could appeal to her and try to convince her that she should fight them.

Her fear had made her ashamed. Eventually, the disgust rose up to push the fear and shame aside, especially with Nolan’s obvious pandering. He would use these people and their anger just like her father would—to keep his job and increase his power. All along, Grace thought they were all driven by the same thing—a sense of justice. A desire to make the world a better place for the people living in it. That kind of power was invigorating, to be sure, but only because it was the power to do
good
in the world. But what seethed in that hall was the opposite—that hatred was the raw fuel for political power, and it would drive her father’s ascendancy in the world, along with all his minions, including Nolan.

Grace wanted to believe she would have still seen the
wrongness
of it, even if she wasn’t a shifter herself… but she wasn’t entirely sure. Nolan seemed to know it was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from following her father, wading into the crowd to glad-hand and win more votes. It was Nolan’s easy acceptance of all of it that had shocked her the most. Then Jared’s blazing words about some kind of government experiments on shifters, then the attack… and suddenly her shock had gone into overdrive, leaving her in this buzzed state as Jared whisked her from the rally, stuffing her in the sedan and hurrying them away. She hadn’t even asked where they were going, but she quickly realized he was taking her home… only it didn’t feel like
home
any longer.

It felt like a place she no longer fit.

Jared pulled the car up to the front door of the estate. She fumbled with the car door handle, but she couldn’t seem to get it to work. Her hands were still shaking after all. Jared hurried around to open her door. His hand clasped hers, enveloping it in his hot-skinned touch… even the look in his eyes had warmed from before, at the rally. He grasped hold of her arm to keep her steady, and she almost protested, but his calm command, guiding her toward the house and making sure she was steady on her feet, was settling the shaking in her hands, so she didn’t. Jared exchanged a rapid-yet-silent communication with Richard, the guard on duty—he took the car while Jared escorted her inside.

It made her feel cared for in a way that cleared her mind.

She and Jared needed to talk.

His large form hovered, strong but gentle, next to hers as he ushered her through the house.

“Do you need something to drink or eat?” he asked quietly as they passed the kitchen.

“No.” Her voice still had a tremble in it. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. They kept going past the kitchen, and it was clear he was steering her toward her bedroom—which flushed her face with heat as she thought of the things she’d fantasized about doing there with him. None of which was appropriate at the moment.

Jared closed the bedroom door behind him, then without a word, he shucked off his jacket and drew her into his arms. He held her tightly—so tight that all the tension stringing her body released at once, and she just sagged into him.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, his hands in her hair, gently stroking the back of her head and holding her in the secure cage of his arms. “It’s over. You’re all right now.”

“Jared.” She buried her face in his chest and bunched up his neatly-pressed dress shirt in her fist.

His hand on her stilled, and she could feel the muscles in his arms flex around her, tensing up.

She lifted her head to peer up at him. “What am I going to do?”

He was speechless, looking down at her with dark eyes that were no longer hard. His lips parted, but no words came out. For a moment, she thought he might kiss her, but then he loosened his hold and stepped back.

He still kept his hands on her shoulders. “Those men in hoods weren’t shifters, Grace.”

“I know.” She let out a breath, glad he was still holding onto her. Somehow it felt like he was the only thing keeping her up. “It was obvious my father hired them. To shift blame. To stir up the crowd. Probably to make the news as well.” Her shoulders sagged with the weight of that truth—that was what had knocked the final, buzzing shock into her. She hadn’t been afraid of the attackers. She’d been afraid to look the truth in the face—the whole thing had been an obvious manipulation for her father’s political gain. It was a stinging indictment, more than almost anything else she’d seen or heard so far.

Jared squeezed her shoulders. He didn’t say anything, but there was relief on his face.

“What am I going to do?” she repeated. “It’s like there’s suddenly a war, and I’m not sure what side I should be on.” She pleaded him with her eyes—she needed him to tell her, again, why it was necessary for her to come out. Why she had to abandon everything in her life—everything her life was supposed to be—and fight this
thing
her father was doing.

“You know what side you belong on, Grace.” But his voice was gentle, kind.

She shook her head, needing more. “How do I know you’re telling the truth about those experiments? About my father being involved? For all I know, you’re just… just making things up! Trying to convince me to betray the Senator—to ruin him by coming out as a shifter.” Because that’s what it would be—a PR disaster, only this time, it would be an intentional one. A self-inflicted wound that would take down her father and his plans as well.

Jared’s calm expression warped into concern. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Grace.”

“I don’t know that!” She wrenched out of his grasp because tears were glassing her eyes, and she was ashamed of them. She turned away and strode across the thick, cream-colored carpeting to the wall of windows on the far side of the room. Her bedroom was a host of barely-concealed lies—the contradictions that lay just under the skin of her life. The gymnastics trophies from when she was a girl stood proudly on her shelves—she’d always been unnaturally strong, in spite of her slender frame.
Because she was actually a wolf.
Her bed’s deep purple spread was neatly tucked in, mocking her with the fact that she was twenty-five years old and never had a man in it.
Because she was a shifter.
The framed pictures of her and her father meeting important politicians, from the time she was a little girl, all the way up to meeting the Secretary of State last month. She was the politician’s daughter. His protégé. She was the goddamn campaign manager for the state’s most anti-shifter politician.
And she was a shifter.

It was all lies. And it was all going to crumble down around her and bury her along with him.

She felt Jared’s presence behind her, all warmth and strength. She envied him in that moment—knowing who he was with such conviction. Having strength enough for her to borrow. It wasn’t that she thought he was lying to her—far from it. She just didn’t know if she had the strength to face the truth.

“Grace…” There was a ripple of pain in his voice, and it tore through her. “I don’t know how to convince you that I’m telling the truth.” She could hear the plea in it, and
that—
that vulnerability—was what forced her to lift her chin and turn to face him.

Because this brave, strong man was one of the shifters who would be hurt if she didn’t do what was right.

“I believe you,” she whispered, her lips barely moving as she stared up into his dark eyes. “But I’m afraid.” She blinked back the tears. “I’m ashamed to say that, but it’s true.”

His hands were on her cheeks in an instant, cupping them and holding her face tenderly. “Don’t be afraid. No matter what, I’ll protect you.” There was
need
in his voice again, and with his hands on her cheeks, and his suddenly labored breath in her face, her pulse raced ahead. Her wolf whimpered, crying out for him to move closer, kiss her, take her like she had been imagining from that very first moment in the field.

Time suspended as he held her, stretching into long seconds. A war was taking place on Jared’s face. Just as she thought he might lean in to kiss her, as she parted her lips to accept whatever he had to give, his eyes widened, and he took a step back. She instantly missed the feel of his strong hands; her wolf howled in frustration. But Jared wasn’t here to kiss her—he was here to win her over to his side, politically. The
right
side, as he saw it. And as she was slowly having to admit was the only side that justice could be found on.

“You know,” she said quietly, dipping her head and looking up at him through her lashes. Embarrassment heated her face. “The fantasies I’ve had about having you on my bedroom generally involved you ravishing me in my bed, not talking me into revolution.”

His eyes went wide, he blinked, then a slow smile quirked one side of his mouth. “Fantasies? As in
plural.”

She huffed out a small laugh. “Just two or three. I’m not counting the one where you tie me up, because really… that’s kind of unnecessary.”

That look of
need
returned to his face. It forced the smile off hers… and sent a flush of heat between her legs.
Oh, God.
Her wolf was being drawn in by that look like it was a high-powered magnet.

Jared stepped closer again. “You’re in danger of making me feel things, Grace. Things I haven’t felt in a long time.” He visibly swallowed. “I don’t know what to do with that… with
you…
it’s not why I’m here.” He frowned. “Only it is. From the first moment I saw you shift, when I realized what you were and the situation you were in, it’s like you reached inside me and… well, I haven’t been able to stay away ever since.”

It was getting hard for her to breathe. He was closer but still too damn far away. She ached for him to breach the inches between them and kiss her, touch her, do
something.

“If I do this thing, if I come out as a wolf…” She swallowed thickly, forcing air into her lungs. “I’m going to need a friend.”