A good fight would help the man in him.
A little bloodletting would help the beast.
He just needed to get Katy out of his head for a while.
Because he wanted to be a good man. He didn’t want to be like the Old Tarians. His entire existence since the Pride had split revolved around his intention to be a better man. He didn’t want to be a monster anymore.
So why then was he stalking Katy?
She deserved a good life.
She deserved a safe life.
He knew down to his bones, Kannon couldn’t give her either of those.
Stop being the monster she doesn’t need and be the man she deserves instead.
Leave her alone.
Chapter Thirteen
Leaver.
Katy frowned as she watched Kannon’s truck leave the parking lot. She pried her attention away from the window, and looked over at the clock by the bed. She did some quick math. Thirty-one minutes he’d been sitting there, but why? She’d waited for him to get out with plans of meeting him at the front if he did.
But he’d never left the truck. He’d just sat there.
She couldn’t chase men who didn’t want her. Not anymore.
She was different now. At some point, she had to learn to move on from people who didn’t see her as important.
Pouting a little, she flipped on the switch for the fireplace and flopped on the bed, arms and legs spread out like a starfish. What now?
She’d had an entire itinerary of stuff to do around this town, but none of it sounded nearly as fun as hanging out with Kannon.
Maybe she was one of those shifter groupies.
This bed was so comfortable, and the room was the perfect temperature. Maybe she should get her phone and research shifter groupies. Figure out if she was one. Katy yawned. Her cell phone was very far away, all the way over there on the night stand. And she was so very, very comfortable…
****
Katy pried her eyes open to the soft glow of the fireplace. It was hot as the devil’s balls in here, and she was still fully clothed and lying in the same position she’d apparently fallen asleep in—she squinted at the alarm clock—five hours ago.
Her stomach growled, and she sat up, rubbed her eyes, and blinked blearily at the flames. She hadn’t slept soundly like that in a long time!
Eight p.m. darkness was all she saw out the window, but in the room, the fire wasn’t the only light. Her door was propped open by the open lock. On the floor, there was a folded sheet of notebook paper lying in the beam of light from the hallway.
With a very un-sexy grunt, she rolled off the bed and made her way to the note, unfolded the paper while she sat there squatted down.
You’re pretty when you sleep.
There was no signature, just those five words in masculine block-letter print.
Okaaay.
Creepy.
Chills rippled up her arms as she felt watched. Katy stood and flipped on the light switch in a rush and searched the room. Her heart was pounding out of her chest with how loud her instincts were blaring. After a thorough search, she shut the door and locked it, then called down to the front desk.
“Did you give anyone the key to room 369 today?”
“No,” the woman at the front desk said, the sound of a keyboard click-clacking in the background. “I show we gave you a key when you checked in, and that’s all.”
“Okay…thank you.” Katy set the phone back in the sling and hung up.
Kannon wouldn’t have done this…right? He would’ve signed his name. No, scratch that. He wouldn’t have snuck into her room in the first place.
Feeling trapped in here, Katy changed her clothes into something comfy, skinny jeans and a giant baggy sweater she hadn’t worn in years, but #laundrydaypacking. She put on her favorite pair of black booties and then made her way downstairs.
In the main room, there were tables set up for dining and a bar along one wall. The scent of steak and butter and seasoned vegetables smacked her right in her taste buds as she passed a trio of business men eating a fancy AF dinner together.
Yep, she wanted the steak. She was staring like a weirdo at their plates, so made a conscious effort to make like a cow and moooooove along to the hostess stand on the other side of the room.
“How many in your party?” a lady with a tight bun and genuine smile asked as she pulled menus from the stand.
“Oooh, no no, too many menus. It’s only me. Table for just one.” But Katy frowned and said, “I don’t know why I said it like that. Just one. Like one isn’t an awesome number or something.” She lifted her chin higher and announced grandly, “Table for one, please.”
The woman giggled and jerked her head toward the dining room. “This way. I have the perfect table. It’s my favorite when I eat in here off-shift. I like to eat alone, too. You don’t have to share the appetizers that way.”
“I’m straight as a nail, but I might have just fallen in love with you,” Katy enlightened her.
The hostess laughed and gestured to a table against the wall, facing a live band who looked like they were about to perform. “My name is Meredith if you need anything. Your server is Seth, and he’ll be with you in a jiffy.”
“Thank you, Meredith,” she called as the woman walked back toward the hostess stand.
Nice people in this town.
“Is this seat taken?” a masculine voice murmured.
Hope blooming in her chest that it was Kannon, she looked up from her menu to find the scar-faced man from the bar, Abel.
“Wow,” he murmured through an empty smile to match his empty eyes. “I’ve never seen so much disappointment on a woman’s face to see me.”
“Seat’s taken,” she quoted from Forest Gump, accent included.
“By who? Kannon?” He made a show of looking around. “I don’t see anyone here for you. No one but me.”
“Seat’s taken by that green bean,” she said, pointing to the shriveled vegetable that a previous diner had left behind. It sat right in the middle of the red seat cushion. Her date was way cuter than Abel. And not because of Abel’s scars either. It was the hollowness in his eyes and the cruelty in his smile that made her skin crawl.
She wished she had Kannon’s number. Weak. Here she was, watching Abel brush away the green bean and take a seat across from her, all the while wishing for a man to come and save her. Table for one was an honor. She needed to learn to save herself.
“I fuckin’ mean it,” she murmured, leaning forward, “leave me alone.”
“I’ve decided you’re mine. My lion approves of you.”
She shook her head and looked around for her server. She was gonna get psycho Abel kicked right out of here for harassment. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
“Wrong. You entered Tarian Pride territory, all curvy and pretty—”
“Were you the one who left that creepy-ass note in my room?” she demanded.
Abel just smiled. “Everyone in this town knows the rule.”
“What rule?”
“Tarians can have whatever they want.”
“Excuse me,” she called to a server a couple tables away, taking orders. “I need this man escorted out. He’s harassing me.”
The server took one look at Abel and shook his head slightly. The entire table was staring at them, but no one moved to say a single word. Just lowered their heads and went back to looking at their menus, as though she was invisible.
Abel was glaring at them, his eyes so bright yellow they were terrifying, and the threat of murder was imprinted on his twisted face. A threatening snarl rumbled from his chest as he dragged his hate-filled gaze back to her. “Like I said, I can do whatever the fuck I want. We have a long history of putting the townspeople in their place on the food chain. They know they’re at the bottom.”
How many people had the Tarians hurt to make such a monstrous reputation that scared the humans of Telluride like this?
Her hands were shaking, so she clenched them into tight fists and rested them on her thighs as she fought to hold his frightening gaze.
In a whisper, she assured him, “I’m not from here, and I don’t give a shit about your rule.”
“Listen to that heart race,” he murmured, leaning forward. “Like a scared little field mouse—ack!”
There was a flash of movement in her peripheral in the instant before Abel’s face slammed onto the table with a deafening crash. The sound that wrenched from his throat was the result of Kannon’s hand digging into his neck. The table split clear down the middle, and then they were gone. Katy hadn’t recovered from throwing her hands over her face in reflex before Kannon was dragging Abel out of the room toward a glowing orange exit sign.
There was chaos around her, people running from the room, running past her as she stood slowly. Everything was a blur but him.
Kannon wore nothing but a low-slung pair of jeans, and every muscle in his back and arms rippled as he bodily dragged Abel to the back door. Someone ran into her shoulder, and the yelling in the restaurant was loud, but she was walking slowly behind the two lion shifters, against the grain of the fleeing crowd, like a fish to a lure upstream. She couldn’t stop herself. Something drew her. Abel’s face was covered in red. Red, red, red. Blood was streaming from his jawline to the carpet, making a little trail for her to follow. Abel’s boots dragged along the floor, and he shook his head as if trying to clear the spinning. And right before Kannon disappeared out the exit door, Abel found his footing and lurched upward, slammed his fist against Kannon’s face. The flurry of violence that followed was too fast for the human eye to follow. They disappeared into the shadows of the night outside, and the door slammed closed behind them.
Katy bolted for it and threw it open, but she ran into another solid wall—Sora. The platinum blonde looked terrified. “We have to go,” she uttered, gripping Katy’s shoulders.
“Kannon’s out there!”
“He’s fine, but we have to get somewhere safe.”
“Sora—”