Axel Wulf: A Romance Crime Action Thriller

Chapter 3

You can’t throw me to the wolves. They come when I call. ~anonymous

Gwen

“Wait!” Heart racing, I sprint to the ambulance driver’s window and knock until he rolls it down.

“Yeah?” As the paramedic shifts gears into drive, I press record and hold out my phone.

“Where are you taking him?”

“Bee-bee.” His response matches the name of my imaginary childhood playmate.

“Is this it?” After I show him my maps app, he nods once and drives away.

Wanting to follow, I search for my keys. Then, I recall my boss drove us all to the bar, and moan.

“Fucking great.” My fingers scroll through applications until I find the correct icon. Before I can punch it, Mr. Sexy, who I thought already left, speaks behind my shoulder.

“I can bring you. My car is right up the block.”

Jeesh. Stalker-vibe much? “Sorry, I don’t get in cars with strangers.”

He grabs my phone and deletes my ride application. “Between 2017 and 2020, nearly ten thousand sexual assaults were reported against this company”s drivers, which resulted in a multidistrict lawsuit. I’ll drive.”

“Fine. Escort me to your awaiting white horse, Sir Knight.” A broad sweep of my arm later, I follow his lead.

When we pass the candy store, I remember the rest of my coworkers in the bar and cringe.

“Oh shit.” I text Callie and when she doesn’t respond, I call, but it goes straight to voicemail.

Surely, someone on our team informed them of the commotion on the beach.

“What’s wrong?” My silver-haired companion shoots his gaze at myhand-helddevice.

“It’s nothing much. My boss isn’t picking up, which isn’t like her. I wanted to tell her about Henry.” Recalling the weapon, I may or may not have seen, my pulse spikes. What if the suited man found her, too?

While I tamp down a panic attack and put my heels back on, my escort studies my face. “Perhaps, she hooked up for the night?”

As if. I snort out a laugh. “She’s married, has three kids, and is so in love with her Aussie bodyguard, it’s sickening.”

In silence, we walk for a few more blocks until he points to a dark SUV. “This is me.”

He clicks the fob, the car starts, and the door locks release. A gentleman, he opens the passenger side door and holds my hand as I lower onto his thick, plush leather seats.

“Wow. Cushy ride.” It must’ve cost him a bundle.

“Rental. I splurged.” He pops the back hatch for Bear, rummages around in a garment bag for a suit jacket and slips it on.

I hide my disappointment. The man’s torso is a work of art and should remain uncovered.

My guardian angel, who sounds a lot like Beyoncé in Austin Powers, slaps me across the face. Baby girl, he is more wolf than man. His sharp incisors will bite out your heart and eat it while it beats.

Weirded out by my subconscious, I chant, “Hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium…”

“Happy Henry Lives Beside Boron Cottage. That’s all I remember of the periodic table.” Wulf smiles for the first time tonight.

Holy shit, his dimples rival those of Hugh Grant. He is so, so friggin’ hot, for a moment I forget all about the hospital and imagine me and him on a vast king-sized bed with…

Whoa, stupid. Thinking of my ex, my life’s hugest mistake, I return to a much safer version of chemistry. “Near Our Friend Nelly Nancy Meg Allen. I can’t believe you learned the mnemonics too.”

“Chem class in college. Couldn’t’ve passed without ’em.” Stopped by another red light, his gaze drills a hole into my defenses. “Did you say your coworker had cardio problems?”

His question is innocuous enough. Still, it worries me. “Henry lives in his basement, never goes out, and eats like shit. I told him he needed to at least walk around the block every day, but he just laughed. He literally was a heart attack waiting to happen.”

As I speak, I try to forget the weapon I think I saw. My ex often claimed I have an overactive imag-Gwen-a-tion.

My bitter laugh makes me cringe. “It’s ironic. My employer insisted he come to our retreat because of his health. I can’t believe she’s not picking up.”

This time, I leave a message. “Hi, Callie. Henry had a heart attack. He’s on his way to the hospital, and I’m following him. I’ll text you the address when I arrive. The doctors may insist on his emergency contact info too.”

After I hang up, my self-appointed chauffeur fiddles with the radio and settles on a pop-rock station. “Are you from around here?”

“No, I live in DC.” Before he asks, I add, “I do freelance IT project management. Boring stuff.”

Not wanting to say more, I hone in on Mr. Nosy Parker. “How about you?”

“Consultant. I’m taking the summer off.”

I could call bullshit, but of course, he’d do the same. It’s obvious we both hide the true nature of our occupations, but I have valid reasons. I’m betting he”s unemployed.

Bear whines in the back of the SUV, so I unbuckle my seat belt and pat his nose. It’s funny how the dog and his man have similar sleek and muscular builds.

Wulf barely broke a sweat while the paramedics strained to lift Henry into the ambulance.

Uncomfortable in the ensuing silence, I blurt out the first thing to come into my head. “I had a collie-shepherd mix as a kid. He looked a lot like Bear, only not quite as thick. He’d bark like crazy if anyone came near me.”

His face softens. “I had a corgi.”

Now relaxed, we talk about our childhood pals. The traffic thins, and he turns off the four-lane highway.

Before I visit Henry, I must know the truth. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Eyes on the road, he yields at a roundabout and avoids my piercing stare.

“Why did your dog really run after the stranger?” Because I expected some reaction, I’m disappointed when not one of his facial muscles twitch.

“I already told you.” Staring across the cupholder, he appears earnest, but I’ve been lied to by the best.

“And I don’t believe you. Bear saw a weapon, didn’t he?” As I speak his name, the collie barks. At least he is on my side.

Mr. Silver Wulf purses his lips. “Well, if you thought so, why didn”t you mention it to the police?”

I am not playing this game. “Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t see it. Your turn.” My God, he is annoying.

I decide to tell him the truth, leaving out what is necessary. “My ex-husband says I”m a drama queen. We have joint custody of my daughter, Abbie. If I made a mistake and the gun turns out to be nothing, he”ll use it against me to take sole guardianship. He already tried it, and it almost worked.”

My phone bleeps. “This is probably him, now.”

I open the text and gasp for air. No, no, no. My five-year-old sleeps peacefully in her bed. Anyone else would think the call came from their ex, but Farid would never be so thoughtful or considerate.

The message comes from an unknown number and disappears seconds later.

Sweet mother of pearl. No one sends a self-vanishing message unless they are highly motivated.

Ignoring the question mark on my driver’s face, I tap my tracker app and breathe a little easier. According to her pink sneaker, Abbie is still at the beach house my husband rented for the summer.

A little less freaked out but still agitated, I call him.

“Jesus Christ, Gwen. Do you know what fucking time it is?” He speaks so loudly, I’m sure the Wulf guy can hear.

Biting my tongue, I ignore his tone. “Is Abigail with you?”

“Of course she is. She’s asleep.”

“Check her.” I will not be intimidated by this jerk.

“You know what? You need help.” He should learn some new lines because these no longer work on me.

“Yes, I’m getting some. Please check she”s okay.” I hold my breath, and naturally, the asshole refuses.

“I’m not going to enable you.”

A switch flips in my brain, and in an instant, I turn into a giant, grizzly-momma-bear. “For fuck’s sake, do it, Farid. If you don’t, I swear I will march over there, take her home, and tell the judge I caught you sexually abusing her. Do not test me.”

He curses me up and down, then sends me a picture of her sound asleep in her bed. “There. You happy now, you stupid cow?”

“Thank you.” Once I hang up, I glance over at the concerned Wulf and clunk the heel of my hand on my forehead. “Please don’t ask.”

Fortunately for everyone, we’ve arrived at the hospital. After he parks the car and jumps out, he opens my side door. He doesn’t say a word, but that conversation must have made him uncomfortable.

“Thanks, I got it from here. You”ve been too kind. Buh-bye.” My face heated, I race to the emergency entrance.

“It’s late. I’ll walk you to the door.” As he trots alongside me, I cannot believe he didn’t take the hint.

Inside, the scents of antiseptic mixed with flowers conjure thoughts of my mom’s last days. Knees weak, I swallow back the memories and stroll up to the desk.

When my boss’s husband steps out from behind a column, I jump and hug the six-foot-plus Australian. “Lucky? Thank God you’re here. Henry had a heart attack on the beach, and I can’t get ahold of Callie.”

My shadow waits for me to let go before stretching out his hand. “Axel Wulf. I was there when it happened and offered her a ride.”

“Thanks, mate.”

Bear, who must have followed us, wags his tail, sits, and whines for attention, his eyes glued on the bodyguard.

Gears click, puzzle pieces fall into place, and my pulse races. The dog knows Lucky, which means Axel knows him, which means I am totally fucked.

Wulf didn’t simply happen to be on the beach tonight! I’ve been under surveillance, dammit.

Despite how hard I try to hide my emotions, the two men do a double take and exchange knowing glances.

“I’ll see to Henry. Callie needs you back at the lab. Let’s talk outside.” Lucky walks me through the sliding glass and leads me to the back of an idling black Ford. “This man will drive you back to DC. My wife will fill you in when you arrive at the lab.”