Born to Be Wylde by Jan Irving Page A

cave…. Doesn’t that sound like the sort of guy who could have been hurting folks, maybe off his meds?”
“How do you know about him?” Ken rasped. God! Wylde could innocently rejoin them at any time. And Marty would shoot him. The sick thing was, his story was plausible. Law enforcement was more likely to look at someone like Wylde, who lived an unconventional life, than Marty, a deputy with twenty years on the job.
“You been giving him handouts, Ken?” Marty moved closer, shifting the gun in his arms. “Being queer, I guess you have a soft heart, but he’s our guy, and I’ve already called for backup to help me hunt him down.”
Ken’s heart jumped. “No,” he whispered. Wylde had saved his life, risked himself. Now Marty meant to use the resources Ken had been asking for to hunt him.
“I thought you wanted to take down the mysterious stalker!” Marty pushed, hard brown gaze holding Ken’s. “You sure as fuck wouldn’t leave it alone.”
“I do,” Ken said, straightening. “You know, the day I was beaten, left for dead, I called my location into dispatch before I left my truck.”
“Uh-huh.” Marty moved away from the SUV, checking his rifle. “You always were anal about that.”
“That’s how you knew where to find me, how you got the drop on me, you son of a bitch.” Ken’s Glock was in his hand. There was a ringing in his ears. He was going to die now. Marty would kill him, but Wylde would be safe.
“That’s crazy, Ken!” Marty made a disgusted sound. “You’re obviously upset over losing your studio. I’m sorry I insulted you about the gay thing. It’s this vagrant we gotta look out for, hunt down.”
Ken shook his head. “That’s not true and you know it! Drop the rifle, Marty. If I’m wrong, it won’t take long to prove it.”
Marty smiled, leveling his rifle on Ken. “You’re not wrong.”
    W YLDE found what he thought was a shallow grave half a mile into the woods. He backed away, knowing that Ken would not want him disturbing the evidence. As he did, a cedar branch brushed his hair and Wylde had a sudden wrong feeling.
    The burial hadn’t been so hard to find, not with the clothes almost an arrow pointing in this direction.
For some reason, Deputy Marty Grimble wanted to make it easy. Why?
Wylde could think of only one reason.
M ARTY was unimpressed. “Have you ever even fired that thing outside a range?”
    Ken’s jaw bunched. He knew he was going to die, absolutely. But he wouldn’t let this man take advantage of his innocence again. In retrospect, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t looked at Marty. “You may shoot me, but I’m also going to shoot you, and I might get lucky.” His hands were steady, holding the gun. He’d hit Marty in the middle of the body. It wouldn’t stop him, but he would be too wounded to hurt Wylde. Ken only hoped he’d hold on long enough to call off the manhunt for an innocent man.
    Marty looked annoyed. “You couldn’t leave it alone! You’re a potter, for Christ’s sake. You shouldn’t be doing this job.”
    “But it is my job, and I will perform it,” Ken countered. “Too bad, samurai.”
Marty fired.
    H E WAS running through the woods.
Never had he run so fast, certainty singing through his
blood.
His mate was in trouble, needed him.
The body being so easy to find meant the killer wanted
to point the finger at someone, and Wylde figured it had to
be him. He was different. Sometimes that was enough to
make people turn away, to hate you.
But honorable Ken would never allow that. He’d try to
protect Wylde.
And it would get him killed.
“ F UCK !”
    Marty missed. He had a hand on his temple, blood running freely…. “What the fuck is this?” He looked around wildly, and both he and Ken saw a nearby bush swaying….
    Wylde tackled him from behind, arm around his throat. “You hurt him. You put bruises on his body!” Wylde growled.
Gun up and ready, Ken used his free hand to tug away Marty’s rifle. His hands were