Irresistible (Neighbor from Hell 11)

Trace winced as pain shot through his shoulders. “She promised not to tell,” he said softly.

“You fool!” Ethan roared, slamming Trace into the door.

“She’s my friend!”

Ethan backhanded him, knocking him against the wall, and destroying what little hope that he’d had left that his father would understand, making him realize that he no longer had a choice. He had to save her before it was too late.

“Oh my god...” his father said, looking horrified as he moved towards him. “Trace, I’m sorry.”

Trace shifted to his right and yanked on the short rope, pulling the door open and flooding their small cottage with sunlight. His father hissed as he was forced to retreat to the far side of the cottage where the sun couldn’t reach him.

“Don’t!” his father yelled.

“I’m sorry, Father, but I have to make sure that she’s okay,” Trace said as he slammed the door shut and took off for the woods.

Trace could still hear his father screaming his name when he reached the woods. He looked up at the bright afternoon sun, noting that he would only have a few hours before his father would be able to leave the cottage and come for him. That was more than enough time to make sure that Mary was safe before he was forced to say good-bye. He needed to explain things to Mary and make sure that she knew that he’d be back for her once he reached his immortality so he could take care of her.

Maybe she’d run away with him and his father, Trace thought as he navigated his way through the thick swamp. That way he wouldn’t have to wait until he reached his immortality. The more he thought about it, the more he liked this plan. He knew that his father wouldn’t be happy, but once he saw how sweet and gentle Mary was, he’d be more than happy to help keep her safe.

This could really work, Trace thought with a surge of excitement, quickening his pace, eager to find Mary and tell her. A half hour later, he stumbled through the thick foliage, gasping for air and grinning hugely when he spotted Mary sitting by the stream.

She looked up at him as he stepped out of the woods, making him frown when he realized that she wasn’t smiling. She’d always greeted him with a smile and a warm embrace, but now she looked nervous. He swore softly. Of course, she was nervous. Her Pack would punish her if they found them together again.

“I’m so glad you came, Trace,” Mary said, brushing back those golden locks that he’d dreamed of running his fingers through.

“Of course, I came,” Trace said, reaching for her only to find her stepping back out of his reach. “Mary, what’s wrong?” he asked, taking another step towards her.

“Nothing,” she said, smiling brightly.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, running his eyes over her face, her well-worn brown dress, hands, and bare feet and sighed with relief when he didn’t find any bruises or cuts marring her beautiful pale skin.

“Why would I be hurt?” Mary asked, stepping away from him as she toyed with her apron strings.

He reached out and gently took her hands in his, refusing to allow her to pull away again. “Mary,” Trace said, looking into her eyes, “I saw him strike you.”

She shrugged it away as if it were nothing. “I broke a Pack rule.”

“What rule?” he asked, frowning when she pulled her hands free.

“Mary, what-oomph!” The air rushed out of his lungs as he dropped to the ground, barely able to register Mary’s pleased smile as he watched the large wooden mallet race towards his head, again.

Chapter 1

Westdrom, Maine

Present Day

“Charlie! Oh my god, don’t pee on that!” Sam pleaded as Charlie raised a dark furry leg and gave her a pointed look that could only be taken as a threat.

Sam pulled on her old fluffy pink bunny slippers as she eyed her brother’s pain in the ass German Sheppard that he’d left with her when his unit had been deployed two months ago. She pointed a finger at him, trying to look stern as she said, “If so, much as a drop hits that staircase, you will never have another slice of pepperoni pizza.”

The dog eyed her for a moment before shifting his attention to the two-story colonial house’s original staircase that she’d spent last weekend sanding. The wood was bone dry and would happily absorb every drop Charlie gave it and then Sam would have to come up with the ten thousand dollars needed to replace the staircase, something that she’d been hoping to avoid.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Charlie lowered his leg, his eyes never leaving hers, looking for a reason to go through with the threat. Sam stood up, putting her hands on her hips and said, “That’s right, buddy. You better remember who controls the pizza in this house.”

Charlie huffed as he padded past her to the front door. Sam was just about to run upstairs and grab her flannel bathrobe, but then shrugged and followed the horrible dog that hated her outside. It wasn’t as if anyone was going to see her in her brother’s old Superman pajamas out here. They were ten miles from town and their nearest neighbor was eight miles away and was only here during the summer. She could walk around naked all day and never have to worry about another soul seeing her, except maybe for the deer that liked to walk around the small clearing in the backyard.

She didn’t bother grabbing Charlie’s leash since the dog would take that as a challenge and drag her out back through thorns, weeds, and over the rocks in the stream before he happily dunked her ass in the mud, again. He seemed to really enjoy making her life a living hell, something that she’d reminded Nathan of numerous times before he’d left. Each and every time, he’d sigh heavily and tell her that it was all in her head and that Charlie loved her.

Her eyes narrowed on the dog as he showed her SUV tire a lot of love. The entire time he stared at her, daring her to say something about it. She narrowed her eyes on him as she bent down and picked up an old slimy tennis ball. Standing up slowly, she held it up.

“Uh-oh, does Charlie want his ball?” Sam asked in a syrupy sweet voice as she moved the ball from side to side, smiling as the little bastard’s eyes narrowed on his favorite ball. Just when he put his leg down and crouched to spring at her, she pulled he

r arm back and let the ball go flying through the trees and thick brush. “Go get it!”

The dog threw her one last dirty look that promised all sorts of retaliation before he took off through the brush where she hoped he finished his business. He had a nasty habit of leaving his little “packages” as her Grandmother Powers used to call them, around her truck. She didn’t care what Nathan said. She wasn’t paranoid.

That dog was out to get her.

Wiping her hands off on her pajama pants, she walked back into the house, untangling the necklace that Nathan had given her when they were kids from her hair as she decided this would be the perfect opportunity to enjoy a hassle-free breakfast. It was something she hadn’t had since she moved in with Nathan after she’d left Craig.

It was funny how four months ago her biggest problem was Craig throwing the newspaper away before she could read it. Their mornings together had been quiet, relaxing, and comfortable. The only thing that interrupted their quiet routine had been talk of the wedding. The wedding that should have happened two months ago but didn’t thanks to Craig and the cashier at Anne Marie’s Bakery.

Apparently, Craig liked his coffee with a little something extra and Beth provided it. Of course, their breakup probably wouldn’t have been so bad if the two of them hadn’t stumbled out of the employee bathroom with their pants down around their ankles for everyone to see, including Sam. Then again, she probably would have survived that humiliating moment if Craig hadn’t taken the opportunity to announce to one and all that she was horrible in bed. That had also led to him pointing out that she was too damn fat to turn any man on.

Instead of yelling at him, or at the very least bitch slapping him, Sam had been left speechless. Later, of course, she’d thought of a hundred different things she should have said. That always happened to her. She was really horrible at handling confrontation, which was probably why her high school debate teacher handed her a library pass the second week of school with a pitying look and told her that she could skip class for the rest of the year. It had been humiliating, but at least she didn’t have to worry about passing out and hitting her head on the podium, again.