Primitive Fix

Kenyon lay sprawled out on a cot in the holding cell, his mind racing with ways to free his brother. Nik had been locked up for six months, and with every passing day his humanity was slipping further and further away. Tigers weren’t meant to be caged, and his brother was no different from their brethren who roamed the wilds. The only difference was Nik and every member of his family—Kenyon included—could shift from tiger to human at will, but Nik hadn’t been able to shift since the night the poachers had captured him in the swamps near Lafayette. Instead of killing him that night, realizing they had a prize in a rare white tiger, they took him down the interstate close to Baton Rouge to become a feature attraction at the Bon Teche Truck Stop.

Louisiana was obsessed with tigers. The concept went back to the Civil War and permeated every aspect of Southern Louisiana life from the football teams to the truck stops. This one in particular had been known for keeping tigers in captivity for the past twenty years, but the recent acquisition of a male white tiger was one that brought in even more tourists. Most white tigers couldn’t legally be bought or sold, especially in Louisiana, so Kenyon knew the paperwork was forged. Of course, there was the small fact that the tiger in question was not a tiger, but a man whose tiger form had taken over. Nik knew better than to run in the swamps at night, but as leader of the Maddux Clan and first born, he felt as if he were above the law. Now he was at the mercy of the tourist industry, and Kenyon had to find a way to free him.

Just the thought of seeing his brother locked away, pacing back and forth in that cage was enough to turn his stomach. There was only one option—he had to break him out. Of course, the emancipation attempt from three nights ago had put him in a similar situation, but now he knew the ins and outs of Nik’s predicament. It had taken him this long to find his brother as he painstakingly retraced Nik’s steps, following every possible lead. All it had taken was one look into the beast’s eyes and he’d known that Nik was the tiger in the cage, and the desperation in his brother’s eyes told Kenyon he was searching for a way out. Kenyon just wasn’t sure who would be escaping from that cage. If one of his kind remained in his tiger form for too long, his humanity would begin to seep away and the beast would completely take over. Even if Kenyon could free Nik, he might never get his brother back.

The jingling of keys brought Kenyon back to his current circumstances. Maybe his lawyer had finally showed up to post bail. Kenyon’s mother, Himani, was not very quick to aid her second born, and Kenyon hated that he’d been forced to call her in the first place, but he knew the clan wouldn’t act without her permission. It would be just like her to let him sit in here and dry out for a few days while her beloved first born was growing farther away from them every day. A three night stay in the local lock up was enough, and Kenyon needed a shower, a hot meal, and a warm body to sink himself into.

Hell, he wasn’t sure where that last thought came from. It had been a while since he’d thought of a woman as anything other than a complication. Then the scent hit him and he understood. Even before she rounded the corner, he knew it was her—the woman who was both his salvation and his curse, the only body he’d ever sank into. He wouldn’t make this easy for her, make her think he had been waiting, let her have the upper hand in being the one to spring him.

Settling back onto the cot, he put his hands behind his head, going for nonchalant. He fixed his eyes to the spot where she’d be standing soon, where he could take in the long expanse of her legs, and her trim waist, let his gaze travel north to settle on the mounds he had once proclaimed to be heaven.

The move had been a wise one, as her short business skirt and sexy high heels afforded him a fantasy that—although brief—hit him right in the gut. A briefcase settled against one thigh and the knuckles wrapped around it were stark white. Her other hand held a cell phone, and he knew she was feigning an important text. Everything about her body language told him she was off her game. He’d thrown her off with his mere presence. Good. She deserved that for the way she’d left him high and dry the last time they had been together. Such was their history. Her always leaving. Him always waiting for her return.

“You’ve been sprung,” the sheriff’s thick Southern accent bellowed above the jangling keys.

Kenyon didn’t move, didn’t want to seem so eager in front of the woman who was his by birth.

“You hear me, boy? Your lawyer posted bail. You’re free to go once we handle some paperwork.” The door to the cell swung open.

Kenyon watched her back stiffen as he unfolded himself, his eyes never leaving hers. He noticed today they were blue instead of the dark brown he knew so well. She was a master of disguise, and that talent had saved both their asses more times than he could remember. Sage’s people could not only shift into wolves at will, they could also change their appearance when it suited them. The woman standing before him had long, honey blonde hair and blue eyes, but she was his Sage just the same. He made his way to the cell door, taking in the way her chest rose and fell with each step. “Much obliged.” He bowed, pretending to be the perfect gentleman in spite of his appearance. To anyone other than Sage, he looked like a clear menace to society. But she knew the reason for the thick stripes on his skin and the golden color of his eyes. That, combined with his long dark hair and goatee, made him a formidable presence in any room.

Her throat and chest had turned blood red, looking even more crimson against the proper white button up shirt she wore. He knew that look—knew what it took to cause her body temperature to elevate so drastically.

She tucked her cell phone away and held a hand out to him. “Sharon Westley. Your family sent me.”

Always one with an alter ego. “Remind me to thank them.” His voice rumbled as he took her hand, lightly stroking the back of it with his thumb. He suppressed a grin when she pulled away as if his touch had burned her skin.

It had been too damned long.

* * * * *

Kenyon Maddux was the devil incarnate, and Sage Villalobos was determined not to fall into the trap of his golden eyes again. Twice burned was enough for her, which was why this meeting made her stomach twist into knots. He was obviously amused by his attempt to make her feel uncomfortable...that crooked grin on his face, his left eyebrow permanently arched in challenge.

Damn him. She had a job to do—get in, get out, deliver him to Lafayette and wave good-bye from the rearview mirror. The family had called on her to free him, knowing she couldn’t turn them down. Her family owed a debt to his family that went back at least a hundred years, one she feared would never be repaid. A debt that had put her solidly in Kenyon’s path for every one of her twenty-seven years. Resistance was futile. She knew this would end the same way it always had since the summer she turned sixteen—with her legs wrapped around him, begging him for more.

It didn’t matter that she hadn’t seen him in three years, every cell in her body wanted him and would still want him ’til to the day she died. But that didn’t mean they weren’t toxic for each other.

He stepped closer to her, invading her space, his white t-shirt giving her a full appreciation for the stripes that covered 95% of his body. Only his face, hands and feet were free from what most people thought were thick, black tattoos. Sage knew the stripe pattern was unique to every member of the Maddux Clan, and she knew how the pattern wrapped around his waist, across his chest, covering the expanse of his back. Her fingers had spent countless hours tracing those stripes, memorizing their pattern, but her breath still caught in her throat every time she saw them and realized how dangerous Kenyon Maddux was.

Taking a step back and trying to preserve her sanity, she noticed how his golden eyes danced wickedly, slicing through her. His hair was longer now, the thick black mass pulled into a ponytail that grazed against his shoulders. It took everything she had not to reach out and swipe away the errant strands falling across his forehead. His dark goatee was longer, too, and a couple days’ stubble covered his square jaw, making his lips stand out as a carnal invitation.

“We doing this?” The sheriff cleared his throat and turned to lead them back down the hallway.

Sage was painfully aware of Kenyon’s shadow looming over her as they made their way out to the main office. A thousand different thoughts raced through her mind, things she wanted to say, explanations she needed to give and hear, but she just stood there waiting as he signed his paperwork and collected the envelope with his belongings. The first thing he did was slide on his family ring, the ancient crest topped with a stone the color of his eyes. More times than she could count, Sage had felt that thick gold band trace its way across her skin, sending shivers of delight through her body. Sweat beaded on her forehead.

He turned and gave her a smile. “You ready, sunshine?” His thick, husky voice sent heat straight to her belly.

“Just bringing you home,” she countered, stepping away from him in an attempt to regain control of the situation.

“After you.” He leaned down so his breath blew across her shoulder.

“What were you doing attempting to break into a truck stop anyway?” She kept her voice muted as they walked toward the door.

“Trying to get my brother out of that damned cage.”

“Well, you failed, clearly.”

“It’s okay. It’s pretty clear I have a lawyer who knows how to get me off.”

Heat spread through her body at his provocative choice of words. It had been a long time since she’d been near Kenyon, but it wasn’t long enough to quench her need for him, a need which raged through her like a Gulf Coast hurricane.