Can I be an asshole? Yes. Can I be a cold motherfucker? Yes. And it’s not something I can blame entirely on my wolf. I was like this before the beast emerged, and now that my wolf’s psychotic, the dark side of my personality has grown.
Brianna looks back at the dead guy. She shakes her head but not as assuredly. “He still didn’t deserve to die like that.”
I sigh heavily. “We can agree to disagree.” I reach for the backpack and pull out an old long-sleeved flannel shirt. Wearing it paired with the basketball shorts isn’t the greatest look, but I’ve got nothing else.
I scoff. How far I’ve fallen. I used to wear expensive clothes, designer cologne, and I showered daily. Now look at me. I look like Hobo Joe.
But, it will have to do.
I cinch the pack close and sling it over my shoulder. “His car’s still on the highway. We’ll get in that, and I’ll take you home.”
“What?”
I wince at her tone. “If we leave his car here, he’ll be found in no time. If we take it, it will most likely be days, even weeks, before he’s found. We’ll be long gone by then.”
“We? What do you mean by we?”
“I’m taking you home.”
“I thought you were letting me go?” She plants her hands on her hips, and the wind picks up, ruffling her hair. Damn, she’s hot. All fire and steel. Who would have thought my mate would be so fierce?
I raise an eyebrow. “I am letting you go.”
“Then why would I get in a stolen car with you after you just killed its owner?”
I survey our surroundings, then raise my arms as if it’s obvious. Nothing’s around us but dry brush and cactuses. A coyote howls in the distance. Inside my wolf stirs. He’s very much awake now, prowling around in my belly, letting me know that he’ll take over if I can’t protect our mate.
“You want to get home, don’t you?”
“Well…” She frowns. “Yeah.”
“And how do you propose to do that? Were you going to walk the entire way?” It suddenly occurs to me that she stopped in that bar a few miles back. Her scent was all over it. But she hadn’t stayed there and waited for a ride.
“Why hasn’t someone picked you up?”
“I … was going to rent a car.”
“Where?”
“There’s an airport that away.” She points.
I raise my eyebrows. “You were seriously walking that entire distance to rent a car? Why wouldn’t you call someone to pick you up?”
Her gaze drifts away, and her chin dips. She kicks the sand by her toes. “I don’t know.”
“Does that mean you haven’t called anyone?” Not even the police? But I’m too nervous to ask her that. I know I’m taking a risk by showing up like this. She ran from me once, or rather three times now, so she’ll probably run again. But there’s no way in hell I’m leaving her. I can’t now. She’s destined to be with me.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
“No, I didn’t call anyone. Not really. I mean, I texted my friends to let them know I was okay, but that’s it.”
She didn’t call the police? That’s not something I expected. The wind quiets between us. Blood pounds through my ears. “Why didn’t you turn me in or tell anyone about me?”
A long moment passes before she shrugs. I want to know so badly what she’s thinking and to understand what she’s feeling. Does she feel it? This innate need to be together? The attraction that crackles between us like electricity?
Or is she immune to it? She’s human. She’s not a werewolf, so maybe she doesn’t feel it. Maybe she feels nothing at all.
My wolf snarls.
I know. I don’t like the thought of that either.
With a start, I realize it’s the first normal thing I’ve said to him in months.
“So what now?” she asks, completely avoiding my questions.
I take a deep breath. She obviously doesn’t want to talk about what’s motivating her silence. I have to respect that.
“I’ll drive you home, and we’re taking the car. Trust me. I’ve been doing this for longer than you. Leaving his car will only cause more problems for us.”
Her eyes widen. I can only imagine how she’s interpreting my blunt honesty.
Yes, mate. I’m a killer and a thief. That’s what I’ve become. I dip my head, so she won’t see the shame in my eyes.
“Let’s go.” I begin walking back to the road, the pack slung over my back. I try to