Wake A Sleeping Tiger (Breeds 22)

“Enough.” Silence filled the kitchen at the guttural sound of Cullen’s voice, the echo of animalistic fury shocking in its depth.

Ranger stared at him in shock as Chelsea glanced up at him, then to Draeger as he watched with wary tension. She could feel the tension boiling now, threatening to explode with repercussions she didn’t want Cullen or Ranger to face.

“Cullen . . .” Ranger tried again, his voice, his expression turning, pleading.

“Chelsea didn’t have to tell me anything.” Cullen silenced him instantly. “She was wired with strict orders not to reveal the wire. I heard every word, every lie for myself. And I do recall her trying to silence you more than once. You deliberately tried to hurt her, and you lied to do it.” He inhaled deeply, obviously trying to pull in a measure of calm. “My decision’s been made. I’m on leave for the moment, but the commissioner has my duties until my return. That should give you time to clear your stuff from the office.”

Ranger’s gaze flickered to her neck again before he turned back to Cullen.

“Lauren was right all along,” he sneered spitefully. “You didn’t really love her. You let her die. How does it make you feel to know you traded your wife’s life to have her?”

Pain shattered her heart at the accusation as she felt Cullen’s arm tense further beneath her hand, the fury building in him. The cruel words were designed to hurt and they had.

“Draeger, get him out of here,” Cullen ordered, his voice softening. “If I have to do it, I may end up killing him.”

Ranger sneered back at her then, cruel amusement curving his lips. “How does it feel?” He was shaking with fury now. “How does it feel, fucking your cousin’s little pet, you stupid cunt? That’s what she called him, you know?”

Draeger grabbed Ranger, jerking him back as Chelsea jumped in front of Cullen as he made to move to rush the other man. Deep, primal growls were erupting from Cullen’s throat as Draeger hauled Ranger out the door, the sounds grating and filled with fury.

The accusation had sliced her painfully, Chelsea admitted, because she knew it had hurt Cullen. She’d seen his face, seen the misery that flashed across it just before he started to jump for the man he’d called friend since those first weeks when he arrived in the Nation.

She inhaled slowly, trying to stop the shaking she could feel in her hands, her body. Turning away from Cullen slowly, she fought to accept the fact that because of her, Cullen had just made an enemy of one of the few friends he’d allowed himself to have.

“Why did you have him fired?” she asked, confused as she turned back to him. He stood in the same place, his gaze locked on the door Draeger had forced Ranger through. “If it was because of me, then you made a mistake, Cullen. That wasn’t what I wanted.”

Cullen’s gaze sliced to her, the icy expression on his face causing her to swallow nervously.

“He lied to you,” he finally stated harshly. “He was trying to hurt you.”

She shook her head in denial, pain-filled regret exploding her mind. “He was just being a stupid man.” Tears filled her voice and dampened her eyes. “He was trying to tell me not to get my heart broken. That’s all.”

This was all her fault. Because she couldn’t hide the glasses, because she hated male superiority, because she’d never imagined Ranger would speak against Cullen. It was her fault, and she hated it.

“So he lied to you?” His brows arched as his gaze filled with disgust. “That’s why he told you I blamed you? That you were no more than a stand-in for Lauren? That we laughed at you while we were married?” A cold smile shaped his lips. “Oh no, baby, I watched that video more than once. I saw what you didn’t want to see. He wanted to hurt you and drive you away from me, knowing there’s every chance you’ll be dead within days if you do so. That was pure maliciousness in his eyes as he told you about Lauren, and I’ll be damned if I’ll even try to work with him knowing how easily he betrayed our friendship and tried to endanger you.”

Had it been? She shook her head, wondering if Cullen had seen something in Ranger that she hadn’t the day before. And it was possible she’d missed it. The hatred in Ranger’s eyes moments ago and the sneering disgust in his words had been so virulent, filled with such depth, that surely it hadn’t come into being overnight.

“Cullen . . .” She licked her lips nervously, wondering exactly what had gone on in his marriage, needing to know now when she’d tried to avoid it because of her fear of the potential truth.

“We’re heading to Graeme’s,” he told her before she could say anything more. “Get ready and get what you need for a few days’ stay. Cerves is back in the States and I think I’m ready for a few answers now.”

Without waiting for an answer he strode to the door, flung it open and stalked outside. Before the door closed behind him she saw him jerk free one of the slim cigars he kept tucked in his shirt pocket.

Two cigars in as many days; he was on a roll now, she thought painfully. If only she had a vice of her own to find comfort in.

He could feel her confusion and her pain.

Holding the cigar between his teeth, Cullen lit it with a heavy drag of the fragrant tobacco and fought to push the scent of her distress from his mind. It had exploded through his senses at Ranger’s final words, stabbing into him and sending the need for violence rushing through him. He would have killed Ranger if he could have gotten his hands on him. Because what he’d had to say to Chelsea was nothing compared to the insults against her Cullen had learned the other man was spreading at the Agency.

For some unknown reason Ranger had been infuriated with Cullen’s leave of absence, blaming Chelsea and her supposed possessiveness for it rather than the fact that she was in danger. The other man had even gone so far as to state it wouldn’t surprise him that she’d arranged the danger herself to ensure Cullen’s attention.

As he drew on the tobacco again, the sharp bite had him grimacing as he relished the sensation. It was a terrible habit, he knew. One he’d picked up several years before, courtesy of Dane Vanderale.

Dane swore by the cigars and every month like clockwork, Cullen received a box of thirty from Africa, courtesy of the Vanderale heir.

Now, leaning against the shaded column of the portico, he stared at the cylindrically rolled tobacco and fought to get his fury under control. There was still a part of him that wanted to wait until darkness fell and stalk the man he had once called friend. And when he found him, he wanted blood.

Perhaps that was the part that had him feeling so off balance. Ranger hadn’t done anything to deserve death, but telling his instincts that was impossible.