Page 29 of Falling for the Grumpy Orc (Monsters of Saltford Bay #1)

Chapter Twenty-Three

Gerralt

The snap of twigs and rustle of leaves electrifies my senses. Someone's running. Fast.

I burst forward into the darkness, my boots pounding against the damp earth.

The damp forest ground gives slightly beneath each step, but I barely notice as I charge ahead like a freight train.

My muscles coil and release with each stride, my breath coming in controlled bursts as I scan the shadows.

The lodge's outdoor lights barely penetrate the darkness at this distance, but my eyes adjust quickly. There. Movement near the tree line. A hunched figure sprints toward a black pickup truck parked just off the gravel drive, its outline barely visible in the moonlight.

Then I catch it. Another shadow peeling away in the opposite direction, vanishing into the dense woods that border the eastern edge of Cassidy's property.

Shit. Two of them.

My mind works fast, calculating. The one heading for the truck has a better chance of escaping. He's the one I need to catch.

I push harder, my powerful strides eating up the distance between us.

My orc ancestors run through my veins with me as I sprint toward my enemy, as full of savagery now as it was in the Old days.

As I get closer, I see the shape of the intruder, the reflection of tusks under the faint light.

I recognize the burly frame of one of my kind.

He’s big, but I’m bigger. I’m bigger and I am fueled by my desire to protect my mate at all costs. No, not my desire. My need.

The orc reaches the driver's side door and yanks it open with frantic hands in his haste to get away from me. But he's not fast enough.

I slam into him with my full weight, crushing his body against the truck's metal frame. The impact jolts through both of us with a bone-rattling thud. A strangled grunt escapes his throat as the force rips him off his feet.

We hit the ground, hard. The next moment, we roll in a tangle of limbs through mud and loose gravel. The scent of pine needles and damp earth fills my nostrils, mingling with something else, expensive cologne and the unmistakable stink of fear.

A wild swing comes at my face. I dodge it easily, the fist connecting with my shoulder instead. His moves are desperate and predictable. The actions of a man who knows he’s up against an opponent stronger than he is.

And with more purpose. Nothing is more terrifying than an orc defending his mate.

"Get off me, you brute!" he chokes out, struggling beneath my weight.

That voice. I know that voice.

I grab his collar, the fabric bunching in my fist as I slam him onto his back. Gravel crunches beneath him with a satisfying crunch.

The wind gets knocked out of his lungs as I press my entire weight onto his chest. He’s not going anywhere.

I lean closer, squinting through the darkness. Mud cakes the intruder's face, but not enough to hide those familiarly cold, golden eyes glaring up at me.

Bogdan Ashvale.

The orc contractor spits mud from his mouth, his face contorted in rage. But beneath that anger, I see something else flickering in his eyes. Panic. Raw and unmistakable.

A surge of savage satisfaction roars up my spine and I growl at him with all the fury of a male protecting his female.

I press my knee harder into his chest, pinning him more firmly against the cold ground.

“Stop fighting, bastard!” I snarl at him, my tusks inches from his face. “You’re done for.”

Bogdan opens his mouth to counter, but he is interrupted by the high wail of a siren. Red and blue lights strobe across the trees as Sheriff Wolfsbane's patrol car pulls onto the property, followed by two more cruisers. The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating us in harsh white light.

The sheriff steps out, his tall frame silhouetted against the cruiser's headlights.

“There’s another,” I shout over the sound of the sirens. “He ran into the woods, but I caught this one.”

Sheriff Adrian Wolfsbane turned his chin and said something to his deputies. Wordlessly, two of them ran into the woods, as silent as… well, wolves.

Bront Billings stood no chance against two werewolves hot on his trail.

Even from this distance, I can see the faint glow of his eyes in the darkness, that supernatural werewolf shine that makes night operations his specialty. The next moment, the sirens cut off and an eerie quiet descends on our merry little group.

"Banesman," Sheriff Wolfsbane calls out. "You want to explain why you're straddling Bogdan Ashvale like a prize bull?"

Before I can answer, Bogdan bucks beneath me, trying to throw me off. I press him down harder, my patience wearing dangerously thin.

"He tried to get away," I growl, dangerously close to losing control. "He was waiting by his truck while someone else was in the lodge, cutting the water pipes in the wall. I’m ready to bet the shirt off my back that it was Bront Billings running away."

Sheriff Wolfsbane approaches, his boots crunching on gravel. He looks down at Bogdan with cold assessment, then back at me.

"Get him up." The werewolf's mouth curves into what might generously be called a smile, all teeth and no warmth. “I got him from here. ”

I haul Bogdan to his feet, keeping a firm grip on his arm. He tries to jerk away, but I shake some sense into him hard enough to make him wince.

"You’ve got no proof to back those accusations," Bogdan snarls, mud dripping from his expensive clothes. "I was simply checking on property near the Saltwater Lodge when this maniac attacked me.”

"At night? During a festival that the whole town was attending while someone just happens to cut the water pipes inside the Saltwater Lodge? The same lodge you tried to bully Cassidy into selling to you?" I tighten my grip on his arm, satisfaction coursing through me when he winces. "Try again."

He turns to Sheriff Wolfsbane with an air of authority and fake outrage almost deserving of an Oscar.

“He has no proof of what he’s accusing me of. I want to press charges for assault!"

Sheriff Wolfsbane winces at these words and a suspicious doubt furrows into my chest. But it’s short-lived as the radio on the sheriff’s shoulder crackles. The sheriff turns his chin to his radio and speaks shortly to the person on the other side.

“Turns out, we may have the proof we need after all.” There’s ice in Sheriff Wolfsbane gaze as he turns to Bogdan. “My deputy apprehended a suspect fleeing the scene.”

I turn to see Deputy Chemko dragging a familiar figure into the light. Bront Billings limps badly and his shirt is ripped at the shoulder, but there’s no mistaking the troll's blue-gray skin, glistening with sweat, his eyes darting frantically between the officers.

He looks utterly terrified. Good. He deserves it .

"It was all him, alright?!" The troll's voice rises to a panicked pitch as he points at Bogdan Ashvale. "Bogdan paid me to fake the inspection, but when his plan didn’t pan out, he paid me again to cut the pipes! Him, it was all his idea!"

Bogdan roars, lunging toward the troll despite my grip on him. "Shut your mouth, you spineless coward!"

"I suggest you keep real quiet, Ashvale." Sheriff Wolfsbane's voice cuts through the night like steel. He moves closer, his posture deceptively casual as he circles us. "I've been waiting for a long time for you to slip up. Didn't think you'd be dumb enough to show up in person."

For the first time, true realization dawns in Bogdan's eyes. The color drains from his face despite the mud caking it.

"You can't prove anything," he says, but his voice lacks conviction.

“Oh, I think we can.” Sheriff Wolfsbane smiles, all his teeth showing. “Mr. Billings here seems very eager to tell us everything in order to get the charges against him reduced. Aren't you, Bront?"

“He's been doing this for years.” The troll nods frantically, relief washing over his features now that he sees a way out. “Finds a property he wants, then hires me to do whatever it takes to force the owners to sell cheap. I have proof of all of them!”

"Get him up and read him his rights, boys," Sheriff Wolfsbane orders, turning back to his deputies. "They’re coming with us."

Two deputies move forward, taking Bogdan from my grip. I let them handle it, watching as they read him his rights and guide him, none too gently, toward one of the cruisers.

"We've been tracking Ashvale for months," the sheriff says, coming to stand beside me. "He's been buying up properties all over the county, some through less-than-legal means. The flooding tonight was just the latest in a string of 'accidents' at properties he wanted to acquire."

I nod, watching as they secure Bogdan in the back of the cruiser.

"He's been harassing Cassidy since she arrived."

"Well, that stops tonight." The sheriff's gaze shifts to the lodge in the distance. "How bad is the damage inside?"

My jaw tightens as I think about the water-logged floors, the sagging drywall, the electrical system likely shot to hell.

"Bad enough," I admit. "First floor took the brunt of it. We'll need to tear out drywall, replace flooring, check all the electrical."

The sheriff nods grimly. "This is quite a mess they've left behind."

He glances over his shoulder at the cruisers, his expression hardening before turning back to me. I shift my weight, feeling the heaviness of what lies ahead. The damage, the cost, the time. It'll be a miracle if I can fix it all before the tourist season begins.

"This is Saltford Bay," Sheriff Wolfsbane says with a subdued tone. "We take care of our own. You would do well to remember it."

The implication isn't lost on me. Cassidy is "our own" now. She's one of them. One of us. Not an outsider anymore, but someone the town has embraced.

The thought settles something in my chest that I didn't realize was unsettled.

"Get back to her." The sheriff nods toward the lodge. "I'll be back to take your statement tomorrow. I trust you'll bring her to your place tonight?"

I nod, casting one last glance at Bogdan in the cruiser before heading back toward the house .

Cassidy meets me halfway across the yard. The moment she spots me walking back from the cruisers, she rushes down the steps, then sprints right at me like her life depends on it.

"Gerralt!" She throws herself into my arms, her body trembling against mine. Her hands frantically move over my chest, my arms, my face, checking for injuries. "Are you hurt? I was so worried when I heard the shouts."

"I'm fine, Princess," I assure her, capturing her hands in mine. "I'm the biggest, baddest thing in those woods. You don't have to worry about me."

Her eyes search mine, relief washing over her features. "You could have been hurt. When I saw you charging after that intruder…"

"It would take more than a troll or two to hurt me," I say, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly. "Much more."

"What happened? " Her voice is steadier now, but her grip on my arms remains tight. "Did the sheriff catch him?"

I guide her toward the steps and she sits down on the wet wood.

"It was Bront Billings who sabotaged the Saltwater Lodge, but he was working for Bogdan Ashvale," I confirm, watching anger flash across her face. "Billings cut the pipes while Ashvale waited in the truck as lookout. Sheriff's got them both in custody now."

"So it's over?"

"It's over." I nod, brushing a strand of wet hair from her face. "You're safe from his schemes. He won't be threatening you or this place again."

Relief floods her features, but it's short-lived. She turns her gaze to the lodge, plunged in damp darkness.

"That's because there's nothing left to threaten. He won. "

Her voice breaks and my heart breaks with it.

The dam breaks and her beautiful face crumples, then she collapses against my chest, sobs racking her slender frame. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tight as she weeps.

"We'll never be able to fix this in time…" she manages between sobs, her voice muffled against my shirt. "Even if you work night and day. It's just too much."

"We'll fix it," I tell her, with more certainty than I actually feel. "All of it."

Then I remember what Sheriff Wolfsbane told me. We take care of our own.

I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. "Listen to me, Cassidy. I will not let you fail."

"But…"

"No," I say firmly. "Just trust me, okay? I will find a way. For now, you're coming with me to my house with Marigold, where you'll be safe and warm. Tomorrow is another day."

She lifts those big hazel eyes at me, full of a hope that rips at my chest like claws. And I know.

I will do everything I can to make her smile again. Even the impossible.

We take care of our own.

And I have to do something I never thought I could do. But for Cassidy, I would walk on fire.

The battle's not over. It's only just beginning.