Knowing Claire (The Possessed Series Book 1) Page 6

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jaxon sat in his truck outside of Scruples, staring through that damn window once again. He’d been reduced to stalking Claire’s place of business, hoping to feel her essence once more. Her home was much more preferable, but Tori residing there put an end to that idea. She would no doubt think him insane, which… Even he was beginning to doubt his sanity at this point.

  He ran a hand down his face and laid his aching head against the steering wheel. He’d been drinking entirely too much lately, he realized with a groan. The three-day beard growth and red, itchy eyes would have been a testament to that fact had he needed confirmation, which he didn’t.

  Claire’s blanket draped over his shoulder was all the evidence he needed to prove he’d gone off the deep end. Her amazing scent still lingered in its depths, teasing and tormenting him with its sweetness.

  A knock on his window brought him out of his stupor. He lifted his head and squinted at the intruder in irritation.

  Chelle Hastings stared back at him with a hand on her hip, looking for all the world like the spitfire that she was. “Let’s talk, Sanders.”

  Jaxon opened the door, attempting a smile he didn’t feel. “Hey, Chelle.”

  Her red hair shone in the sunlight, matching the sprinkle of freckles on her face. A tattoo peeked out from beneath the bottom of her jeans and ran along the top of her foot. He vaguely wondered what the image represented, but couldn’t find the energy to ask in that moment.

  “Are you going to sit out here all day, casing the place? Or would you like to come inside with the rest of us and have a bite to eat?”

  “Thank you, but I was just about to go.”

  “You can go after you eat. Now come on. I won’t take no for an answer.” She rested her hand on her hip in the way Jaxon had seen her do with her husband, Bradley. “Come on, honey. It’ll take the edge off.” Her gaze softened.

  He knew better than to argue with her, and besides, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.

  “Yes, ma’am.” Jaxon slid to the ground and shut the door behind him.

  He donned his Ray-Bans to block the sun from burning his oversensitive eyes. “After you.”

  “Smart man,” she quipped, giving him a wink before heading back inside.

  Jaxon couldn’t help but smile. Chelle had a way of making everyone around her feel good, and he was no exception.

  Most of the patrons were gathered in the back of the restaurant, which suited Jaxon just fine. He took a seat at the bar and caught sight of his image in the long mirror that ran across the back. Damn. I look like shit.

  Chelle returned with a large coffee, which she promptly set in front of him. “What can I get you to eat?”

  He wasn’t hungry, but decided against arguing with her. “Surprise me.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted. “The last man who said that married me. Be careful what you ask for, Sanders.”

  Jaxon grinned for the second time. “I’ll take my chances.”

  “Brave man. I’ll be back in a jiffy.” She disappeared into the kitchen with a flourish.

  The coffee sitting beneath his nose drew his attention. He wrapped his big hands around the mug and lifted it to his mouth. The first sip scalded his tongue, but he didn’t care. He would burn it again if he thought it would help dull the pain in his chest.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  The sound of Victoria’s voice brought his head up. He hadn’t seen her since the night before his life had forever been altered.

  “Hey, Tori, how are you?”

  “I’m good. You look like ass, Jaxon.” Her blonde head disappeared behind the bar before popping back up with a bottle of ketchup in hand. She placed it next to his elbow.

  “I feel like ass.”

  “I’m sorry, Jaxon. We all miss her.” She rested her elbows on the counter. “Have you heard from her at all?”

  His stomach clenched. “Not a word.”

  He wanted to ask if she’d been contacted by Claire also, but was afraid of the answer. If she’d called Tori and not him, it would only further cement the fact that he meant nothing to her.

  “She’ll call, Jaxon. Give her some time to get settled. She’s traveling a lot, and they have her working sixteen-hour days. I’m sure you’ll hear from her soon.”

  The uncertainty of her words resounded in his heart. He knew she didn’t believe that anymore than he did.

  “I take it you talked to her. How is she?”

  “We spoke yesterday, but only briefly. She wasn’t feeling well and had to run.”

  “She’s sick?” He suddenly felt nauseated also.

  “I’m not sure. She said she thought it was something she ate. Although, I’d be willing to bet she’s homesick more than anything.”

  Jaxon slid off the stool. “I have to go.” He dug a twenty dollar bill from the pocket of his jeans and dropped it on the bar. “Tell Chelle I’m sorry.”

  He couldn’t get out of there fast enough. Tori’s words destroyed what small amount of hope he’d harbored of Claire changing her mind about him. She didn’t want him, and God help him, he needed to find some way to come to grips with it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “You’re up in five.” Mark’s muffled voice sounded from the other side of Claire’s dressing room door.

  “I’ll be right there,” she called back, tugging at the small triangles of her bikini top. Parading around half naked was not on her list of favorite things to do, and keeping her agent happy trailed along as a close second.

  Mark Gleeson employed a large number of models in the Los Angeles area. He managed them with an iron fist, sometimes demanding things from them they were reluctant to give. Like forcing them to show up on set with the flu, Claire brooded.

  Mercy wasn’t something Mark had an abundance of. Neither was patience for that matter, if the pounding on the door were any indication.

  “What are you doing in there? Knitting? Get it in gear, girl.”

  Claire opened the door to face her nemesis. “I need a wrap.”

  “You need to move your ass. We are already late, and I don’t have time for you to play the modesty card. Let’s go.”

  “Fine,” Claire replied through gritted teeth as she stepped around him. She could feel his gaze on her ass with every step she took, and bile rose in her throat.

  “Fine, indeed,” he commented from behind her like the lecherous creep he was.

  Ben was waiting for her as she rounded the corner to the set. He stood and wrapped her in a sheet. “Are you going to be okay, Little Bit?” Anger shone from the depths of his brown eyes as he glared in Mark’s direction.

  “I think so.”

  “Have you had anything to eat this morning?”

  “Not yet. I was afraid it would come back up. I may try some crackers after the shoot.”

  His expression changed to something more than concern. “Listen, Claire. I—”

  “Let’s roll!” Mark’s shout echoed off the walls, cutting Ben short.

  “You’ll wait for me?” Claire asked, looking over her shoulder as she was whisked away by a woman with pink hair wearing more makeup than Marilyn Manson.

  He nodded and took up his previous position on a metal chair just inside the door.

  * * * *

  The next several hours were a blur to Claire. She’d posed in every position imaginable while having her hair tugged on and her face touched up. “Could someone turn the air down? I’m sweltering over here.”

  The bright lights in her eyes didn’t help with the looming headache or the consistent nausea she fought so hard to push down.

  “It’s set on sixty eight. Just hang in there a little longer. We’re almost done,” the Manson lookalike informed her with a big silver ring hanging from her lower lip.

  “May I sit down for a minute? I’m not feeling so good.” More nausea rolled through her.

  “Put your right foot on the stool in front of you and tilt your fac
e…”

  But Claire was no longer listening. The room spun around her, voices became a distant murmur, and her vision blurred. The last sound she heard was Ben’s shout before darkness claimed her.

  * * * *

  “Can you hear me, Little Bit?” Ben’s voice sounded from above her.

  Claire cracked her eyes open and stared up into the big guy’s concerned face. “What happened?” Her last clear memory was the photo shoot.

  “You fainted.” He laid a cool washcloth on her forehead.

  “I’ve never fainted before.” The sick feeling in her stomach was almost gone, and for that she was grateful.

  “We have to get you out of here. Today.” The calmness of his tone didn’t match the desperation in his eyes.

  “Get me out of here? What are you talking about?”

  “I have some money saved up, and you have the money from your contract. We can—”

  “Whoa, Ben. What are saying? You know I can’t do that.” As much as she’d love to run from this place and never look back, she couldn’t. Not with her mom and Tori’s lives at stake.

  “You have to, sweetie. If they find out your pregnant, it’s all over for you and your family.”

  Claire felt the blood drain from her face. Her hand flew to her stomach in disbelief. “What? No. It’s just food poisoning or the flu. Why would you even think that?”

  “I don’t think it, Little One…I feel it.”

  She tried to sit up, but he gently pushed her back against the pillows. Her heart pounded and her stomach lurched. She couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around what he was saying.

  “Ben, you’re scaring me.” And he was, but something in his stare told her of his sincerity. Either he was crazy or telling her the truth. Both were unacceptable to her. She couldn’t possibly be pregnant. Could she?

  “How do you know?” Tears sprang to her eyes with the knowledge that she could be carrying Jaxon’s child.

  “I will tell you, Claire. I need you to hear me out and remain calm. It’s going to be hard for you to understand, but I’m asking you to keep an open mind.”

  She only nodded, not trusting her voice.

  “I’m not completely human.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Claire felt a hysterical giggle rise up at the ridiculousness of Ben’s statement. He’d just announced he wasn’t human as if he were discussing what he wanted for breakfast. Did he really expect her to believe that?

  “Not human?” She gaped at his unsmiling face.

  “I know it’s a lot to take in, but I swear to you on everything that’s holy, it’s true.”

  The seriousness on his face brought her up short. She decided he must be crazy, which meant she should tread lightly. “Okay. So, what kind of nonhuman are you?”

  “A Shifter,” he replied in a soft voice she barely heard.

  “A—”

  “Wolf.”

  Claire’s heart lurched. An image of the massive wolves she’d seen on her property passed through her mind. She cleared her throat. “You’re a wolf Shifter?”

  “Among other things.” He stood from his perch on the side of her bed.

  Great, Claire thought in wonder. I’m in the Twilight Zone.

  “Show me.” For some strange reason, she wasn’t afraid…skeptical perhaps, but there was no fear present when it came to Ben. He’d been good to her for weeks, and if it turned out that he was in fact crazy, she’d accept that part of him as he accepted her.

  “Stay calm. No matter what you see, I will not harm you.” He backed away toward the opposite wall and quickly divested himself of his clothing save for his boxer briefs.

  Claire watched in stunned disbelief as his head shot back, displaying corded muscles along his neck. The crack of bone reverberated throughout the room in sickening clarity, and hair shot out from his arms and legs.

  She scrambled back against the headboard, covering her mouth with her hand to hold back a scream. Ben had virtually vanished before her eyes, and in his place stood a massive brown wolf, staring back at her with glowing yellow eyes.

  It couldn’t be true. Her mind rebelled in horror. But it was, and the evidence was now moving in her direction with calculated steps.

  Claire recoiled in horror as he bounded up onto the bed next to her. His long pink tongue rolled out and swiped a wet trail up her arm. He licked her again and nuzzled her hand with his giant head.

  Some of her fear abated as a soft whine came from his chest. She slowly lowered her arms, watching in fascination as he sniffed at her abdomen. Another whine escaped, and he lay down next to her with his head on her stomach, exhaling once before relaxing.

  She slowly lifted a hand toward him. “I’m just going to touch you. Please don’t bite me.”

  His answer was to lift his head, meeting her halfway. His fur was soft to the touch, and she skimmed her palm down his neck. “Oh, my God, Ben. Am I dreaming?”

  He nuzzled her once more before jumping from the bed and leaving the room.

  Claire pinched herself, but this was no dream. Ben was a Shifter, something she’d only read about in fairy tales. Her mind filled with questions faster than she could process them all.

  Surely she would wake soon and find everything was in fact a dream, all of it, her leaving Jaxon, her mom, and Tori behind. She would wake up on the couch at Scruples with an amazing story to tell her kids someday.

  Kids. Claire touched her stomach. Ben thinks I’m pregnant. Could she be? She’d only been with Jaxon once, and that was nearly a month ago.

  Ben came back into the room with his hands out to his sides in a nonthreatening stance. “May I come closer, Little Bit?”

  He looked so unsure and lost, Claire took pity on him. “Of course.” She moved over to make room for his big size. “Come sit down. I have so many questions.”

  “The questions will have to wait. I need to get you out of here now. If someone comes sniffing around and discovers the baby…”

  “How do you know I’m pregnant?”

  “You carry one of my kind.”

  The room tilted once again. Claire rolled to the side of the bed, heaving with the force of her nausea. This couldn’t possibly be happening to her. Jaxon? A Shifter? Her mind rebelled at the thought. But it made sense, from the wolves he kept on his property to coming naked from the woods after an altercation with the beast from her own front yard where he’d suffered just a scratch…and not wanting her to report it.

  Ben handed her a cool cloth and rubbed her back while she continued to gag. Shudders racked her body until she lay in an exhausted heap, half on his lap.

  “Jaxon’s a Shifter.” It wasn’t a question. She somehow knew the truth.

  “As is his father, which is why I must get you someplace safe. Do you understand? We need to move, Claire. Now.”

  The thought of Alfred getting his hands on her child terrified her. She crawled off the bed with jerky movements, not sure if she could stand but unwilling to lay there another second. She was pregnant with Jaxon’s baby, a baby that could very well cost all of them their lives.

  “Where’s my phone? I need to call Victoria and warn her. She and Mom can go up to Caryville. We have family there.”

  “We can’t risk it, Claire. The less they know the better. I don’t think Alfred will hurt them as long as you stay away from Jaxon. But if he finds out about the babe, all bets are off. He wouldn’t think twice about taking you out.”

  “They won’t say anything to anyone, Ben. You have to trust me on this. Tori is like a sister to me. She’ll take it to the grave with her.”

  A huge sigh filled the otherwise quiet room. “Fine, but on the way out.” He suddenly gripped her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “There is only one other alternative.” He glanced down at her still flat stomach. “Do you want the baby?”

  Claire’s hand covered her unborn child in a protectiveness she felt to her core. “How could you ask me that?”

  “I had to know for certain. Th
is isn’t going to be easy for either one of you.”

  She stared into Ben’s gentle eyes for long moments. “I want him.”

  “Then grab nothing but your clothes. You have ten minutes.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jaxon pulled up in front of Claire’s house and switched off the engine. He’d stopped at Scruples to talk to Victoria, only to find out she’d left weeks ago along with Sarina. No one knew their whereabouts, or they weren’t divulging it to him if they did.

  Why would they leave without telling anyone? Something was going on, and he was about to find out the old-fashioned way by breaking and entering.

  He exited the truck and bounded up the steps in search of the key he knew Claire usually hid on the porch. It wasn’t in any of the obvious places, so he dragged his fingers over the door frame. Bingo. He snatched it up, inserted it into the knob, and let himself inside.

  Claire’s scent hit him so hard he staggered back a step. The house had apparently been closed up for a while, leaving her sweet essence to settle into the fabric.

  He inhaled deeply, drawing her into his lungs. His eyes rolled back in ecstasy, followed swiftly by pain. She wasn’t here. Her laughter had disappeared long ago as if she’d never existed. But she had, and she’d taken his soul with her.

  “Damn you, Claire.” His voice broke with the emotions choking him. He realized he’d been reduced to an obsessive lunatic with stalker tendencies, but he didn’t care. He was nothing without her, no matter what she thought.

  The look in her eyes, the touch of her hand, the way she’d come apart in his arms—he hadn’t imagined all that. No, she cared for him; he’d believe it until his dying breath.

  Jaxon moved about the house with determined steps, searching for clues as to Claire’s whereabouts. She’d changed her number weeks ago, and he couldn’t help but wonder if it had to do with the many messages he’d left her.

  Nothing made sense to him any longer. They hadn’t fought or slowly grown apart over time; she’d given him her virginity and tossed him aside like yesterday’s garbage.