Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“I can’t do it.”
“So let’s review the options.” Deke holds up a finger. “Worse case, you go moon mad. Completely nuts. And you’re so dominant, it’ll take all of us to take you out. That means we might get hurt. “
“It’s not going to come to that.” Even I can hear the lie in my voice.
Deke holds up a second finger. “Lance has a new mate. They're expecting a baby. You go crazy, we have to put you down. That means a fight to the death. You could hurt or kill your brother, and his baby grows up without the protection and support of a father.”
“Fuck,” I mutter, and Deke nods in agreement. He knows he’s twisting the knife. I want to pummel his face, but I stay where I am. Deke’s right, and I deserve to hear this. I deserve the pain.
“Best case, you stay on edge, growing more miserable with each passing month,” Deke says. “We got a taste of that last night. You’ll be even more of an asshole than you already are.” He shrugs. “You might make it a year or two before you go moon mad, and we have to kill you.”
“I’ll leave before that happens.”
“You won’t be in your right mind. Your wolf will take over and drive you crazy. And I care about you too much to watch that happen when there’s an easy solution: Claim Adele.”
“You’re chatty this morning,” I mutter.
“I have a mate now,” Deke snaps. “I don’t fuck around. Question is, why are you?”
“Oooh.” Channing pops his head up over the car. “Mic drop.”
“Shut up,” Deke and I say at the same time. He and I glare at each other, arms still folded across our chests. After a minute, Deke’s eyes flash, showing me his wolf, but he drops his gaze, respecting my dominance.
“I can’t claim her.” I turn away. Images crowd my mind: my dead parents, lying on the floor of our home. My brother Lance’s bloodless face. He was just a kid, and I was a teenager when we lost everything. The need for revenge that has haunted me every day since.
I can’t go through that again. I won’t.
“Sarge?” Channing calls, and breaks me out of my reverie.
“Do a full detail after you replace the tires,” I order. “When Adele wakes up and comes down, give her her car and let her go home.”
“You gonna be here?” Deke asks.
“Nope.” I ignore the anguished howl of my wolf. “Going on patrol.” A thirty mile run should get some of my restless energy out. At the very least, it’ll get me away from here. Far away from Adele is where I need to be.
Adele
“So how’s the new gig going?” Tabitha asks as we leave the coffee shop. I shove my hands deeper in my pockets.
“Um, good,” I lie. I have no idea how the new gig is. I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours trying not to think about it.
Two nights ago, I slept with Rafe. Was it only a few days ago I was gazing longingly up the stairs to Rafe’s bedroom and wondering if he slept naked? Now I know. He sleeps in the buff, his whole delicious body laid out like a buffet feast for the eyes.
But then he leaves the bed before dawn. Not only did I wake up in his bed alone, he didn’t even wait to see me off. Deke was waiting with my car keys.
On one hand, my truck was completely detailed, down to the new tires. That was nice.
On the other, Rafe fucking left. I had to gather up my things and walk out of the lodge in front of everyone in my day-old clothes and no panties–the ones he ripped were nowhere to be found. Of course, everyone knew I’d spent the whole night in Rafe’s room, and that he left before I woke up.
Talk about a walk of shame.
Deke and Channing made some lame excuse about how Rafe has a lot of work this week. I didn't see him at all yesterday when I dropped off lunch and made dinner. I fumed the whole time, banging pots and pans, searing his porkchop until it was over-done and burning the top of his creme brulee. A few days of working for Rafe, and I could write a whole cookbook on passive aggressive baking.
He did replace the panties he ripped–in a classic asshole Rafe way. Last night, the dick emailed me a gift card to a lingerie shop. I nearly emailed back telling him to go fuck himself.
The only reason I haven’t quit is because I need the work. The salary Rafe promised is filling my bank account nicely. A few more payments, and I’ll have an installment payment to give the landlord.
Tabitha tosses away her empty cup in a public trash can and falls into step beside me. “You sound so excited,” she observes. “C’mon, you wanted to meet for coffee without Charlie and Sadie for a reason. Talk to me.”