InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Purity 6: Shameless ❯ Mickey B. ( Chapter 29 )

~~Chapter 29~~

~Mickey B.~

 

 

Jillian glanced up from the photography magazine she'd been reading when the sound of an unfamiliar vehicle cut through the serenity of the late morning air. Tilting her head to the side, she frowned in concentration as she tried to figure out just who was in the car. The windows were rolled up so she couldn't smell anything from the distance, but she could vaguely discern the darkened outlines of the driver and the passenger.

 

Gavin stepped out to the threshold of the stable where he'd been busy mucking out stalls. Leaning in the doorway, he lifted a hand to wave to the occupants of the car. Seeing his actions, Jillian relaxed.

 

The tan rental car pulled in beside the trucks and stopped. Jillian slowly set the magazine on the chair beside her and wandered down the steps leading into the yard.

 

“Jilli!” a familiar voice rang out followed by a high pitched giggle as a blur of black hair rushed toward her.

 

Jillian giggled as her might-as-well-be cousin, Charity rushed over to hug her. Charity's twin, Chelsea wandered over, too, and with a bright smile, she hugged both Jillian and Charity. “Congratulations, Jilli!” Chelsea said. “So you finally got him!”

 

“Yes, I did!” she replied. “Anyway, you two are the first to arrive! Let me show you around.”

 

Linking arms with each of her cousins, Jillian led the way toward the barn.

 

“Hi, Gavvie,” Chelsea said, letting go of Jillian's arm long enough to kiss Gavin's cheek.

 

Jillian giggled as Gavin's skin exploded in crimson color. “H-hi,” he stammered.

 

“You're such a cutie,” Chelsea went on, patting Gavin's face in a playful sort of way.

 

Gavin's blush darkened. Mumbling something about checking fences, he leaned in quickly to kiss Jillian's cheek and hurried out of the stable.

 

“I guess some things never change,” Chelsea remarked, watching Gavin's hasty retreat with a completely unrepentant grin on her pretty face.

 

“I love how shy he is,” Charity commented. “It's just cute.”

 

Jillian rolled her eyes. “Of course he is! He's my Gavvie! Now this is the main stable—you can find the sweetest guys in here—”

 

“Geez, Jilli, trying to sell us?” a shirtless Dax grumbled as he ambled past with a pair of work gloves in one hand and a box of fencing nails in the other. A hammer was caught through one of his belt loops, drawing his faded, ragged jeans down precariously low on his lean hips. He shot the Jillian and her cousins a secretive little smile and tipped his hat as he shuffled out of the stable.

 

“He had really pretty eyes,” Chelsea remarked as they watched the retreating youkai. “Among . . . other things . . .”

 

Jillian laughed and nodded. Dax's light brown eyes were striking, she had to admit. Then again, she was rather partial to aqua ones, herself . . . “Oh! Be careful around that horse,” she went on, pointing at Waterspell, who was pawing the ground angrily and looked like he would rather be anywhere than where he was, but Gavin and Hank had brought him in so that they could let the riding horses that were normally kept in this stable into the paddock while the stalls were being mucked out. “Gavvie says he's dangerous.”

 

Charity took a step back and nodded. “He doesn't look too friendly,” she agreed.

 

“Oh, I don't know,” Chelsea commented. “I think he's beautiful.”

 

“You would think that,” Charity shot back then grinned.

 

Jillian laughed. It'd been a long time since she'd gotten to spend any real time with her family—too long. Maybe now that she was getting married everything could slow down a little . . .

 

“So we're the first ones to arrive?” Charity asked, drawing Jillian out of her reverie.

 

“Yes . . . Madison's supposed to be here later today, though . . . she said that Evan was busy at the moment but that he'll be here in time for the wedding . . . Uncle Ryomaru and Aunt Nezumi with Belle and Kichiro should be here Thursday . . . Grandma said she and Grandpa would be flying in with your mom and dad, and Uncle Sesshoumaru and Aunt Kagura should be here right after . . .”

 

Charity sighed. “It'd be so much easier if they didn't have to take separate planes,” she mused, referring to the idea that Sesshoumaru and her father, Toga couldn't fly in together.

 

Jillian was inclined to agree. It made sense to her, certainly. The tai-youkai and his heir were not allowed to travel on the same plane together in much the same way as the president and vice president didn't. It insured that if something happened to one of them, then the other would be able to take over the duties of the office. It made planning trips that much more difficult, though, since that also meant that Cain and Bassie were never able to take the same plane, either.

 

“I suppose it can't be helped,” Jillian mused.

 

Charity nodded. “Yeah . . . anyway . . . tell me! Have you chosen your dress yet?”

 

“Um . . . no,” she confessed. “I figured I'd go tomorrow. One of the shops in Helena said that they're expecting a few new arrivals, so I wanted to hold off on buying one until I see what they get in.”

 

Chelsea wrinkled her nose, but she kept looking over her shoulder in a distracted sort of way. “You ought to call some of your designer friends. Bet they could get you something spectacular.”

 

“Maybe . . . I wanted something a little more casual, though,” Jillian confessed. “A country wedding, I suppose.” Smiling suddenly, she clapped her hands. “Why don't the three of us go into town and do a little shopping? The florist said that she'd be getting some fresh samples in that I wanted to see, and Gavin doesn't like me to go into Hidekea by myself . . .”

 

“That sounds like fun,” Charity insisted. “Oh, you know, there are a lot of really gorgeous indigenous flowers in this region . . . if you want a country wedding, then maybe you should go for ones that are normally found around here.”

 

Jillian laughed. Charity was a botanist, which was part of the reason that she was currently living in the United States. She'd gotten a job for one of the leading pharmaceutical companies doing independent study on the effects of certain drugs on the ecological environment though she was currently studying to attain her PhD at Rutgers University in Newark. In Jillian's opinion, Charity was obsessed with all things green and growing, but in an entirely endearing way.

 

Chelsea, on the other hand, was completely and totally a city girl. Having been born and raised in Tokyo, it had surprised her that New York City was so much smaller than what she was accustomed to. Unable to stand the thought of staying behind when her sister decided to move to the States to further her education and career, Chelsea had packed up and come along. She ran a thriving events planning business and always seemed to be traveling here or there, so it had thrilled Jillian when Chelsea had promised that she'd make it to her wedding, for sure.

 

“You know, I'm kind of tired. All that traveling,” Chelsea said suddenly. “Why don't the two of you go on without me? I think I'm just going to lie down awhile . . .”

 

Jillian blinked. “If you're sure . . .”

 

Chelsea nodded, smiling brightly as she gave Jillian another quick hug. “Sure . . . Go on.”

 

“Okay,” Jillian agreed slowly. “If you're feeling up to it, Charity . . .”

 

Charity giggled, her little black hanyou ears twitching in a rather excited sort of way. She was just itching to go scrounging around the local foliage, Jillian could tell. “Let's go!”

 

“All right . . . let me just tell Hank where I'm going so Gavin doesn't worry.” Darting over to catch Hank's arm, she smiled when he peered over his shoulder at her. “I'm going to run into town with Charity to look at flowers for the wedding, so if Gavin asks . . .”

 

“I'll tell him you came to your senses and decided to leave his miserable hide,” Hank assured her.

 

Jillian made a face but laughed. “Thanks, Hank . . . oh!” Reaching over, she nabbed Chelsea's hand and dragged her over. “This is Chelsea. She's staying here, though, because she's a little tired. Chelsea, if you need anything, just ask him. He can take care of you.”

 

“I can?” Hank drawled, turning around and leaning back against the stall he'd been repairing.

 

“Yes, you can,” Jillian insisted.

 

Hank shot her one of his patented lazy half-grins as he tipped the brim of his Stetson. “Yes, ma'am.”

 

Jillian grabbed Charity's hand and dragged her toward the doors again. “Bye, Chelsea! Bye, Hank! Don't forget to tell Gavvie!”

 

“Not a problem,” Hank called after her.

 

Chelsea stepped back, smoothing her short black suede skirt as she slowly smiled at the bobcat-youkai. “So . . .” she finally said, “you're a cowboy, huh?”

 

Hank chuckled. “And you're a city girl.”

 

Her smile widened as her gaze slipped down his frame and back up once more in a very deliberate way. “Pleased to meet you . . . Hank.”

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

Gavin snapped the cell phone closed and jammed it into his breast pocket before reigning in the horse and scowling at the landscape. Three days since Mickey B. put up that website, and despite the site being pulled off the internet, Gavin couldn't help feeling completely frustrated. Gunnar hadn't had any luck thus far in locating the bastard: he hadn't returned to his house as yet. The search warrants had just come through yesterday, and the police detectives had done a thorough job in ripping the place to shreds. By the time Gunnar was able to get inside, anything that might have helped them had been destroyed or taken, and there'd been so many humans scavenging around the house that he hadn't even been able to get a good handle on Mickey's scent, either.

 

What did they know? Gavin sighed. They didn't know much, actually. Mickey B—or more precisely, Michael Bingerman—had either figured out that he was about to be caught or he was damn lucky. A thirty-nine year old software developer had apparently led an unremarkable life thus far, but according to Gunnar, the remnants of what appeared to have been a sick sort of shrine dedicated to all things Jillian Zelig. The scattered remains left by the detectives had horrified Gunnar. The menagerie of images that had been so meticulously arranged in a circular pattern around a central motif of a picture that had appeared in a magazine awhile back: Jillian in a designer wedding dress. A six inch dagger was embedded in the network of photographs in a very clear message. In the end, Gunnar had photographed the macabre mosaic. He'd just sent the picture to Gavin, which was the main reason that Gavin was sorely pressed not to completely lose his composure.

 

`Damn it . . .'

 

He'd sorely love to get his hands on that bastard, no doubt about it. There was no way in hell he'd be able to calm down until Michael Bingerman was behind bars . . .

 

It didn't help, either, to tell himself that everyone was moving as quickly as they could. He couldn't help but gnash his teeth at the idea that Mickey B. had somehow managed to slip between their fingers, and that, more than anything, grated on his nerves. He'd protect Jillian, certainly. In the end, that was all that would really matter . . .

 

“Gavin!”

 

Turning in the saddle and lifting his hand to wave, he waited for his father to catch up with him.

 

It didn't take long for Moe to reach Gavin. Riding one of the few horses that Moe kept for sport, he reigned in beside his son and hefted an eyebrow at the disgust showing in Gavin's countenance. “Now that doesn't look like the face of a man who's about to get married.”

 

Gavin sighed. “Yeah . . .”

 

“What's up?”

 

“They've figured out who is stalking Jilli, but they can't find him,” he admitted.

 

Moe nodded. “Cain called me. Asked me to keep an eye on things.”

 

“I can protect her just fine,” Gavin grumbled.

 

“Didn't say you couldn't, Gav. Doesn't hurt to have someone else watching out, too, though.”

 

Stifling a growl of frustration, Gavin raked a hand over his face, unable to contain the growl that escaped him. “Sorry,” he muttered.

 

Moe shrugged. “Cain said something else, too.”

 

“What's that?”

 

“He said InuYasha's out here. Been out here awhile, I guess.”

 

“What?”

 

“Now don't blow your stack, boy,” Moe chided. “He's just making sure your mate—his granddaughter—is safe.”

 

Gavin didn't reply, but he couldn't help the glower that he shot his father.

 

“Just wanted to let you know. Now stop worrying about everything and spend some time enjoying your wedding.”

 

Gavin could appreciate what his father was trying to do: telling Gavin all of this in an effort to reassure him that it was okay to let his guard down a little and relax. As if he could do that. If he let his guard down while Jillian was in danger . . . well, he'd be damned before he'd ever let that happen . . .

 

His cell phone rang, and he sighed, dragging the device out of his pocket and heaving a sigh. “Hello?”

 

“Gavin, can you talk?”

 

“Sure, Cain. What's up?”

 

Cain cleared his throat. “Bas ran a check on Bingerman's credit card. He bought two plane tickets: one is a round trip from JFK International to Helena. The other is a one way from Helena back to JFK.”

 

“Son of a . . . when?”

 

“The plane should have arrived in Helena the day he disappeared.”

 

“Three days ago,” Gavin muttered. “Damn it!”

 

“Don't let Jillian out of your sight.”

 

“Yeah,” Gavin said, pulling the reigns to turn the horse back toward the house. “Have you notified the police?”

 

“Bas is taking care of that as we speak. I'm sure the New York City authorities are on it, but we wanted to make certain.”

 

“Okay. Thanks.”

 

Clicking the phone off, he nudged the horse into a full-out gallop. Moe fell in beside him. “What's going on?”

 

Casting his father a cursory glance as he leaned in closer to the horse, he grunted, not entirely sure he could trust himself to speak just yet. “Bingerman's in Montana,” he gritted out. “I've got to go find Jilli.”

 

“I'll go find InuYasha,” Moe said, abruptly veering off to the left. Gavin didn't bother to respond as he leapt off the horse. The beast would go straight home, and Gavin could run faster than the animal could . . .

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

“So you and Granny K. really never hooked up back on your side of the well?”

 

InuYasha rolled his eyes, cheeks pinking as his scowl darkened, and he snorted in response. “Keh! Keep movin', will you?”

 

Evan chuckled and kept moving, fingering the leather wrapped hilt of his sword as the two made the round along the perimeter of the estate. True enough, Cain and the others knew that InuYasha was here. They didn't know, though, that Evan was with him. Evan hadn't wanted to tell them, and InuYasha didn't question his reasons. All in all, it was easy enough to keep secret though Evan was starting to wonder whether or not they really needed to be here . . .

 

Still it did help to make him feel a lot less useless. At least here he felt as though he really was helping to protect his sister, despite what his father and brother believed.

 

“You know, I think this is the longest I've gone in . . . well, forever . . . without getting laid,” Evan quipped.

 

InuYasha snorted again, stopping long enough to drape his hands on his hips to glower at his grandson. “I fucking swear your damn father dropped you on your fucking head,” he grumbled.

 

Evan grinned. “Cain says I take after Mama . . . which means, what? She takes after . . . you?”

 

“Move it, pup, or I'll—”

 

Evan didn't get to hear the rest of that threat. InuYasha cut himself off as his head snapped to the side. Darting to the edge of the line of trees, he peered at the road that ran along the western border of the ranch. Evan sauntered over to take a look, too. “It's that car again,” Evan muttered with a marked frown. The same dark blue Franklin Astrid sedan had driven past a few times in the last couple days. At first it hadn't been anything worth noting, outside of the fact that very few vehicles ever ventured down this way, but today . . .

 

The car pulled off the road, and the single inhabitant leaned to the side to retrieve something.

 

The car had crept up and down the road often enough that it looked suspicious, and when the driver's side door opened, Evan narrowed his eyes. Decked out all in black that didn't really serve to make him look any less chunky, the man's ruddy skin clashed with what was left of his orangey-red hair, and he paused long enough to fish a kerchief out of his pocket to wipe his perspiring face. The pudgy little man that got out was holding what looked to be a camera bag, and he slowly looked around before he scurried toward the trees. `Human . . .'

 

InuYasha didn't reply. Too intent on watching the vehicle, he didn't move a muscle, and he didn't blink. The man stopped long enough to retrieve a pair of wire cutters from the black bag, snapping through the fence that surrounded the ranch quickly and efficiently. He'd been scoping out the place all those times he'd driven past, trying to figure out the best point of entrance, Evan supposed. Damn his rotten luck. He obviously hadn't expected a welcome committee, now had he?

 

“Maybe he's paparazzi,” Evan murmured, narrowing his gaze on the black leather bag slung over the man's shoulder. Then again, he doubted it. He'd been in the business long enough to know that ninety-five percent of the security leaks regarding celebrities' doings were done on purpose to gather publicity without looking like attention whores or inadvertent leaks from loose lipped staff. Jillian's manager was too upstanding to have let anything of that nature slide, and the family sure as hell hadn't leaked a damn thing . . .

 

“Follow him,” InuYasha stated flatly. Evan nodded, understanding his grandfather's curt instruction. InuYasha sprang up into the tree branches to circle around to the other side, leaving Evan alone to track the man on the ground.

 

Creeping through the forest, Evan deliberately drew in a deep breath, memorizing the man's scent. He wasn't sure what to think of this guy, but it didn't matter, really. The man was trespassing, for starters, and that black bag . . . Whoever he was, he certainly wasn't going to get away with whatever he was doing.

 

The man hurried as quickly as he could without actually running. It wasn't very fast, and Evan couldn't help but think that humans, on the whole, were sadly slow creatures. He moved without making more than a whisper of sound—entirely indiscernible to human ears, he was sure. Neither he nor InuYasha had bothered with shoes. InuYasha had told him long ago that wearing shoes was a hindrance in tracking. Given to slipping on damp grass or muddy ground, entirely too clumsy to be of any real benefit, the noise factor was also something to be leery of. All things considered, Evan wholeheartedly agreed, opting to run around without shoes whenever he possibly could.

 

Glancing up, he noted that his grandfather was moving parallel to the man. Catching Evan's gaze, InuYasha nodded. Evan slowed and moved in behind the man as InuYasha sped up just enough to get ahead of him before he dropped from the treetops directly into his path.

 

The man gasped and stopped short, his chest heaving as he struggled to breathe as Evan slipped in behind him, barring his path should he think to run away.

 

“Who the fuck are you?” InuYasha demanded, crossing his arms over his chest as the sleeves of his haori stirred in the summer breeze.

 

The man didn't answer though whether that was because he was flat out refusing or because he was completely winded, Evan couldn't say.

 

“Answer me, damn it!” InuYasha snarled.

 

“Who are you?” the man countered. Evan grimaced, figuring that was anything but a wise move on the human's part.

 

He was right. InuYasha lifted his fist, cracking his knuckles one finger at a time in a blatant threat. The man took a step back in retreat as Evan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against a stout tree trunk. He was pretty sure that the man hadn't even realized he was standing behind him. Then again, if he was standing there in front of an obviously irate InuYasha Izayoi, he didn't figure he'd be paying a hell of a lot of attention to his surroundings, either. “Now tell me who the hell you are!”

 

Clutching the black bag against his chest, the man started to back away. He took three steps before he carted around to run back the way he'd come. He gasped when he came face to face with Evan but didn't stop running. Evan stuck out his leg, tripping the man and sending him sprawling face down on the damp forest floor. In a blur of movement, InuYasha shot forward, drawing Tetsusaiga from its magnolia wood sheath and leveling it dead center of the man's chest as he groaned and finally flopped onto his back. His gaze took in the sword and moved no further. He swallowed hard as Evan pushed himself away from the tree to retrieve his black leather bag.

 

The camera broke with an unearthly loud crack, and the bits of plastic painted to resemble metal fell out of Evan's hand, dropping on the interloper's chest. Evan stuck his hand into the bag once more, this time pulling out a tattered picture of Jillian jogging through Central Park. Her hair was caught up under a hat, and it was difficult to see her face. Still it was Jillian. There was no doubt about that.

 

InuYasha didn't move his sword, letting the tip of it hover mere inches above the man's throat. “Now fucking tell me who the hell you are,” he snarled.

 

The neigh of a horse cut through the afternoon quiet. Evan leaned to the side far enough to see Moe Jamison tying a horse to a nearby tree. He loped over, taking in the scene without a change in expression. “What's going on?” he asked at last.

 

“He's trespassing,” Evan said simply, nodding his head to indicate the man on the ground.

 

Moe nodded slowly before turning his attention back onto the strange human. Narrowing his eyes, he stepped closer. “Bingerman?” he finally asked though the question held very little true inquiry.

 

The man's eyes flared wide, and his face paled remarkably. He tried to recover his composure, such as it was, but it was too late. The hunter who had made a career out of reading people's faces, their body language, knew the truth when he saw it. Pulling a cell phone out of his pocket, he checked it then frowned. “Keep him here,” Moe grumbled. “I'll call the police.

 

“Who the fuck is he?” InuYasha snarled, well past the limits of his temper.

 

Moe turned to go, tossing back over his shoulder, “He's the stalker—Mickey B.”

 

That got Evan's attention quickly enough. Every muscle in his body stiffened, and he had to remind himself that the man was only human and would likely be left to the human authorities to be dealt with; not that it sat well with him, and judging from the look on InuYasha's face, it wasn't sitting well with the hanyou of legend, either . . .

 

“Fucking bastard,” InuYasha growled, eyes glowing with an unnatural light as he held Tetsusaiga trained on the man's neck. The tip of the sword wavered slightly, and Evan grimaced.

 

“Old man,” he said quietly with a shake of his head.

 

InuYasha shot Evan a dark look but grunted in response. The sword steadied, and Evan clenched his hands into tight fists. It was all too easy to feel InuYasha's frustration. It crackled in the air like electricity.

 

Moe ran back and shook his head. “They'll be here shortly,” he informed them without preamble. “Zelig said he'd tried to call you but your phone was out of range.” Casting Evan an assessing glance, he nodded once. “Didn't know you were here,” he commented.

 

“Yeah . . . I didn't tell Cain,” Evan replied simply.

 

“Y-you're mistaken,” the man squeaked out, obviously thinking that Moe was a little more neutral than either InuYasha or Evan. “I—”

 

Moe nudged Mickey B. with the toe of his boot. “You're in a heap big shit. If I were you, I'd shut up.” He shrugged. “Then again, don't . . . go ahead and hang yourself right here and now.”

 

InuYasha growled as he hefted the sword away and dropped it into the scabbard. In a blur of motion, he grabbed the man's shirt and hauled him to his feet, giving him a rough little shake before shoving him back, straight into Evan's chest. “Go near my granddaughter again, and I swear I'll rip you apart,” he snarled.

 

Evan would have laughed outright if he hadn't been so irritated, himself. The man squeaked out a harsh little sound and pushed away from him. He'd already seen one demonstration of Evan's power, he supposed. A bit of the plastic camera casing fell from the folds of Mickey B.'s shirt in silent testimony.

 

“You two have this under control?” Moe asked, alternating looks between InuYasha and Evan.

 

“Keh.”

 

Moe nodded. “I'm going to go back and tell Gavin that he's been caught, then,” he stated. “Just wait here. I told the police where you were.”

 

That said, Moe Jamison turned on his heel and walked away.

 

Evan grabbed Mickey B.'s arm and propelled him back toward the road. “Move it,” he growled.

 

InuYasha watched his grandson escorting the stalker away and narrowed his eyes. His scowl deepened as he shifted his gaze around the forest and slowly started walking, too.

 

 

-OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO-

 

 

“What the hell do you mean; she went into town with her cousin?” Gavin bellowed, temper snapping as he rounded on Hank in the stable.

 

Hank shook his head and leaned against the tack table. “I mean just what I said, Gav. She'll be back in awhile.”

 

“Damn it!” Drawing a deep breath, trying to tell himself that Hank didn't know that Mickey B. was probably in the area, he struggled to gain control over his soaring irritation. “Where did she go? Did she tell you?”

 

“She went to look at flowers for the wedding,” Hank explained. “What's the matter?”

 

Gavin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes before counting to twenty for good measure. “He's here in the area,” Gavin gritted out.

 

“Who? The stalker?”

 

He nodded.

 

“Shit . . .”

 

Digging the cell phone out of his pocket, he dialed Jillian's number, flexing his claws in abject frustration as he waited impatiently for her to answer.

 

“Gavvie!” she gushed happily. “I've found the perfect flowers! They're so pretty, and—”

 

“Jilli, listen to me,” he cut in, struggling to keep his voice calm. “I need you to come straight back, okay? Straight back . . . don't stop anywhere, and don't talk to anyone. Got that?”

 

She giggled. “If you wanted to have me all to yourself, all you have to do is say so,” she teased.

 

Grimacing at the painful blush that crept over his skin, he winced and choked out a strangled chuckle that he was far from feeling. “Hurry back, okay?”

 

“Okay, Gavvie,” she agreed. “I need to finalize the order, but—”

 

“Now, Jilli. Don't worry about that. Just come home.”

 

“. . . Okay . . .” she said, the first hints of worry creeping into her tone. “What's wrong?”

 

He sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was to tell her about Mickey B. over the phone. “I'll tell you when you get here. Don't worry, though. You trust me, remember?”

 

“I trust you,” she allowed. “I'll be right home.”

 

The line went dead, and Gavin sighed as he snapped the phone closed and jammed it back into his pocket again.

 

“Jillian's being stalked?” Cody questioned as he popped the top of a can of soda and shook his head. “Seriously?”

 

“Yeah,” Gavin grumbled. “Keep your eyes open, can you? The guy found out where she is, and he got a flight out here. If you see anything weird . . .”

 

“Sure,” Cody agreed. “I will.”

 

“You're kidding,” Chelsea Inutaisho echoed as she sauntered into the stable. “Jilli?”

 

Gavin made a face. He hadn't wanted to tell everyone about it. Then again, it would be in Jillian's best interests for them to know, especially since people were starting to arrive for the wedding. The sound of a car engine registered in his head, and he darted outside to see if it was Jillian. Stifling a frustrated growl, he sighed as Ben Philips—Cain's top general—got out of the black rental car. “I hear congratulations are in order,” Ben said with a little smile and warm handshake.

 

“Thanks,” Gavin replied.

 

Ben glanced around. “You've not heard anything yet?”

 

Shaking his head, Gavin clenched his jaw and turned to scan the empty, winding driveway. “Not yet.”

 

Ben nodded. “Cain thought it'd be best if I came out here. Since all indications are that Mickey B. isn't in New York City anymore . . .”

 

Gavin nodded, too. “I've never wanted to kill someone so badly in my life,” he admitted.

 

“I can understand that,” Ben allowed. “Don't worry. I've been told InuYasha is out here, too. I doubt anything or anyone could get past him unnoticed.”

 

“Yeah,” Gavin agreed though his tone still held just a hint of doubt.

 

“So where's the bride?”

 

Gavin grimaced. “She went into Hidekea to talk to the florist. She's on her way back. She's got Charity with her so she's not alone, but . . .”

 

“Charity? Inutaisho?”

 

Gavin nodded. “Yes.”

 

“I see . . .”

 

Heaving a sigh when the tan rental car that he recognized from earlier rounded a bend in the driveway, Gavin couldn't deny the flood of instantaneous and vivid respite that surged through him. Charity didn't have the car shut off before Jillian tumbled out of the passenger side and ran over to throw herself against Gavin's chest. Closing his eyes and rubbing her back, he indulged himself in a moment of complete relief, noting with a grimace that she was quaking like a leaf in a brisk spring wind. “It's okay, Jilli . . . It's okay.”

 

“When you called me, you sounded so upset,” she babbled. “Gavvie? What's wrong? What happened?”

 

Cupping her cheeks in his hands, he forced a smile in hopes of calming her blatant upset. She winced, and he sighed. It didn't work . . . “I just—”

 

“Gavin!”

 

Turning at the sound of his name, Gavin's scowl deepened as Moe Jamison rode around the stables. “Dad?”

 

Reigning in his horse, Moe inclined his head in greeting to Ben before turning his attention back to Gavin once more. “They caught him,” he stated flatly. “The police are on their way to pick him up.”

 

“What?” Jillian cut in, glancing from Gavin to Moe and back again. “They caught who? Who's `they'?”

 

“Your grandfather's here, pup, and so is your brother,” Moe supplied. “They caught the bastard trying to sneak onto the ranch.”

 

“They . . . caught him . . .?” Gavin echoed, unable to wrap his brain around the idea that the stalker had finally been caught, after all.

 

“They did . . . Brother? Which brother?” Jillian demanded.

 

“Evan,” Moe supplied. “I imagine they'll be along after the police pick up Mickey B.”

 

She stood frozen to the spot for several seconds before the gist of what Moe was saying started to sink in. Casting Gavin a bewildered sort of look, she suddenly slumped against him, burying her face against his chest as the first few sobs escaped her. Shooting his father a rather helpless look over her head, Gavin sighed. “Come on, Jilli. Let's go inside. Dad? I trust you and Ben can take care of things out here?”

 

Moe nodded. Ben offered him a little grin. Charity looked completely distressed, but she managed a small smile, too.

 

Scooping Jillian up, cradling her against his chest, Gavin headed for the house with his mate in his arms.

 

 

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A/N:

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Final Thought fromJillian:

They … caught him …

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Blanket disclaimer for this fanfic (will apply to this and all other chapters in Shameless): I do not claim any rights to InuYashaor the characters associated with the anime/manga. Those rights belong to Rumiko Takahashi, et al. I do offer my thanks to her for creating such vivid characters for me to terrorize.

 

~Sue~