Roaring Up the Wrong Tree by Celia Kyle Read Free Book Online Page A

apartment?”
    “Yes,” she snapped and then kicked it again.
    “Stand back.” He eased her aside and her frown returned in full force. He’d accept her anger if it meant making her happy when all was said and done. Mimicking Trista’s earlier actions, he knocked and raised his voice. “Open the door.”
    Where she’d failed, he succeeded. Not because he yelled louder or was male. No, he allowed his bear to come forward, fill his voice, and his deep baritone crawled through the door to the male on the other side. Pure power filled him and was then directed at the male he had yet to face.
    In less than a second, the panel swung wide, revealing the new owner of Sunwell Apartments.
    A hint of fear coated the man’s features which pleased the bear, but the rest of the male disgusted Keen. He looked much like Jerry from the gas station: pot belly, stringy hair, and a scent that curdled his stomach. It took a lot for a bear to gain so much weight and get fat that way. The male had obviously been working at it for a long time.
    “Sir?” The man’s eyes were wide with fear and he tilted his head, acknowledging Keen’s dominance. His inner-animal was pleased with the show of submission and then the owner looked at Trista, giving her a loathsome scowl.
    That did not please the beast.
    “What are you doing with this garbage?”
    The scent of Trista’s rage surrounded him, pummeled him with her anger, and he caught her wrist before she could strike the man. Not because he didn’t want her to defend herself. No, he just didn’t want her to get in the way when he punched the asshole.
    But he had a few things to discover first.
    “Your name?”
    “Craven Simmons.”
    “And you own Sunwell now?” He raised his eyebrows.
    “Yeah, after that—” Craven swallowed the words, which saved his life. As it was, he’d earned a beating simply because he upset the woman at his side. “Yes.”
    “So, what happened to Trista’s things?”
    “Is that what this is about?” Craven curled his lip. “She owed rent and I took payment.”
    “Uh-huh.” He looked to her. “That true?”
    “Depends who you ask,” she hedged.
    “I’m asking you.”
    She sighed. “Here’s how things go with people like me.” She pointed at herself. “I’m a half-hyena—”
    Craven spat on the ground at her feet and Keen reacted without thought. He went after the male before he could blink, grabbing him around the throat with one hand and yanking him from the apartment. With hardly any effort, he slammed the werebear against the brick wall and held him steady even as he fought to get free.
    “You were saying?” Craven gurgled and Keen tightened his hold. “Sorry about that. Continue.”
    “I’m half-hyena and have— had —difficulties with the local pack before, well, before. That meant we— I —had problems finding jobs and a place to live. Some people like Bru don’t give a damn what you are as long as you pay rent. In my case, it was double the price of anyone else.”
    That shit was going to stop. “Go on.”
    “When Bru was killed, this guy”—she waved toward the still gasping Craven—“raised my rent again. People like me don’t get rental agreements. We get a wink and a nudge. So he raised it and I can’t pay it. I’ve been doing the best I can, but…” She shrugged and the insecurity and unease in her gaze made him want to hug her close. “But it’s not enough. I got home this morning and found an eviction notice on my front door and my place was empty.” She focused on Craven and before Keen could blink, she kneed the asshole in the balls. “You took all my cash, dickhead.”
    Had the man been able to breathe, he probably would have cried out in pain. But he couldn’t. So he didn’t.
    “Your things? Your money?” Rage suffused him, filling his every breath. “What made it worse tonight?”
    “I at least had a couch, a table, and a bed in there. They came with the apartment. Now I’ve got nothing.”