“Some of us will be outside,” Gus told them, closing the door as he stepped back outside the threshold.
Leslie felt like a caged animal, literally. She couldn’t shift, not in her advanced state of pregnancy. She went to the window, opening the blind slightly to look out. There was a clear view of the back area, but at an angle, so she could only see glimpses of the fray. It was horrifying to watch as the wolf pack fought; several laid on the ground, either dead or wounded.
She scanned the fight, looking for Tucker’s wolf, a large black one with gray flecks and an out of place red streak woven through his tail. There was no sign of him from where she could see, making her even more anxious. She wanted to leave the room, to go down and find him. She wanted to help, however she could. This was her fault. She should not have gotten so involved, been so hopeful that she could be happy without him coming for her.
If she’d just fulfilled her contract and then left here, laid low - then Marshall would have discounted her part in this. He’d not have brought Blane here. Now, she’d brought trouble for not just Tucker but the entire pack, including her children - both born and unborn. Even if they got through this horrible fight, there would be so much to explain and Tucker would face the consequences of this with the wolf council. It could tear the entire MC apart.
“Leslie, come sit down. It’s not doing you any good to watch that. It’s not good for you or the babies,” Gladys told her, but she continued to peer through the blinds in hopes of getting a glimpse of Tucker.
There were more wolves out there now, most of the pack, from the looks of it, so the chances of Blane and Marshall winning this fight were scarce. If they were smart, they’d turn tail and run, but she knew they’d be back. She’d have to be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life and, more importantly, she’d have to find a place to hide from him again. What would this do to her family?
Finally, she caught a glimpse of Tucker, fighting with another wolf. She watched as he grabbed it by the throat and jerked it sideways, sending it flying to one side, limp and lifeless. Blood poured onto the ground. It wasn’t Blane. His wolf was a light gray with darker flecks of color. It had to be Marshall. Had she just watched Tucker be forced to kill his own brother?
“What does Marshall’s wolf look like? Do either of you know?” she asked Mari and Gladys.
“It’s identical to Tucker,” Glady’s said. “Well, almost.”
“What’s the difference?”
“The red swish through the tail? Marshall has another patch just like it across his snout.”
Leslie looked back out at the war raging on behind the motorcycle club. There were limp bodies strewn all about. There was no way Blane and Marshall had done so much damage, and the wolf she’d just watched Tucker kill was neither of them. Her heart dropped to her feet as she realized that they must have brought their own reinforcements. Of course, they did. No way had they walked into this motorcycle club to face the entire pack without bringing backup. How many were there?
She scanned the carnage for any sign of Marshall or Blane, but there was none. She could no longer see Tucker either, which was even more alarming. Where had he gone? Was he just fighting out of sight or was he hurt, or maybe worse. Panic began to sink in as she considered this. How many had they brought with them? What were the odds of them being overcome by Marshall’s crew of wolves?
She was more anxious than ever. She realized that she still had the baby monitor on as it crackled with the sound it made when it was moved about. Leslie had heard it before when she was wearing the receiver and the cleaners picked it up to dust under it and brushed it against its surroundings. Pulling it off her belt, she looked down into the screen and saw fingers wrapped around it. She watched as a face came into frame.
“Where are you, bitch? I know you are hiding somewhere. Hiding my girls from me. You better get down here now or you’re not going to like what happens next,” he said.
She watched in horror as he panned around him in the nursery. A half-dozen bodies laid sprawled out across the floor and children had been gathered into a small circle in the center of the room. It was impossible to tell if they were injured before they had a chance to shift or if they had returned to human form because they had been murdered by the three wolves that stood nearby, blood on their muzzles. The monitor turned back toward Blane, his face a mask of pure evil.