Chapter 4
Four
Bailey
I can’t believe it.
I’ve looked goddamn everywhere, and I can’t find them. They’re not in my purse, on the coffee table, or the kitchen island. I even checked my jacket pockets, and I’ve yet to find my keys anywhere. And if I don’t see them quickly, this will be the fourth time I’ll have been late to work the past two months. I usually have my shit way more together than this, but after that lousy breakup with Zach, I’ve been in a weird headspace that’s made it hard to keep track of things.
As if that loser didn’t ruin my life enough by humiliating me, my ex-coworker filled me in about all of his illicit affairs, including her.
I look in my purse again. There is nothing in there but a couple of maxed-out credit cards and a smattering of grocery receipts.
Fuck.
Typical Monday, things going awry before the day has even officially started. I search the kitchen again, moving the fruit dish and coffee maker out of the way to check every nook and cranny. Nothing.
The back of my neck prickles when I hear a sound coming from outside. I step cautiously over to the nearest window and pull the curtain back, looking out over the little wooden deck attached to the front of my cabin. I don’t see anything, but then I hear it again—the distinct sound of something knocking up against the door.
I feel almost nauseous as I head toward the door. Considering how far outside the city I live, there’d never be anyone randomly popping by. And Cassie may know the way here so well that she could drive it with her eyes closed, but she’d never pop in on me with no warning, especially not on a Monday morning.
I check my phone, noting the couple of bars of cell reception. At least, if there is a murderer outside my door, I can call the cops right before I get killed. The likelihood of someone making it out of these woods without getting caught is next to nil.
Grasping my phone tightly, I unlock my front door and open it slowly. It creaks open, early-morning sunlight pouring onto my floor in a wide streak as I squint against the light.
No one. Nothing here.
I look around. I was sure I heard someone tapping on my door slightly, but now I’m not sure. Having concluded I must be going crazy, I shut it quickly and am stopped by a familiar jingling sound.
My keys.
I look down at the lock, and my keys are just hanging there. I clearly must have been extra tired when I got home last night. I never leave my keys in the door, yet here they are. I sigh in exasperation as I grab them and run inside, stepping into my shoes and beelining across the room to retrieve my purse and coat from where I left them on the sofa.
I head out and lock the door behind me. I turn around, fully intending to leap off the deck and see a creature standing there.
And not just any creature, but the most enormous damn wolf I’ve ever seen.
It stands at over half my height on all fours. I stifle a scream as I drop my purse and keys. My bottom lip trembles as I try to formulate words. “Nice … Nice wolf. Good wolf. That’s a good boy.”
I grab the doorknob behind me and give it a couple of good shakes, but it’s still locked. I knew it would be, yet somehow my brain was praying it wouldn’t. I stare at the wolf, intimidated by its sheer size and the solemnness of its gray eyes. It watches me, its head cocking as I slowly bend down and tap around on the deck in search of my keys. I don’t dare take my eyes off the wolf.
Or, more accurately, I can’t .
Words can’t explain it, but I feel this incredible pull to the creature. Its eyes are stormy skies, dark and vast as they hold my gaze. Its brown fur is highlighted by a reddish glow in the morning light. I take a deep breath as my fingertips kiss the coolness of metal, my hand snapping around my keys and yanking them into my chest.
Still, the wolf watches.
“That’s a good boy,” I coo, standing as slowly as I crouched. “Gooood boy. I’m just gonna put these keys in my door now, okay?”
I glance down at the lock, fumbling the keys around, searching for the keyhole. Peeling my eyes from the wolf feels like a mountainous effort. It’s as though the longer it watches me, the more I want it to.
Surely, this is just my body’s strange reaction to terror.
I feel the key slip in and gasp in relief, but it’s short-lived as the wolf approaches me. I try to get the key to turn, but the angle of my hand makes it finicky, and I can’t quite get it open. I crouch down again to grab my purse and get more leverage, but it’s the wrong move.
The wolf bounds up onto the deck, a shrill scream emitting from me and scaring all the birds from neighboring trees. I feel sick to my stomach as the creature plants itself in front of me, my body crouched down and huddled against the door. It comes up to me, its breath hot on my face as I pinch my eyes shut and wait for whatever awful fate is in store .
The feel of something wet and hot scrapes from my chin to my cheek, and I open my eyes with trembling breath. It’s sitting in front of me, its gray eyes having gone big and puppy-like. It licks my cheek again, and I smile. From this angle, the creature is very clearly male.
“Oh,” I say softly. “That’s … not at all what I was expecting. I thought you were gonna eat my face off!”
The wolf whines, forcing his head up against my chest until I start petting him. He nuzzles into my neck as I scratch behind one of his ears. It’s strange, but something about him feels safe and familiar, like coffee with an old friend you didn’t realize you’d missed so much.
Like … Like we’re meeting for the thousandth time.
I continue petting his head a second longer, then realize I’m still running late for work.
“Shit! I’m sorry, wolf, I’ve got to go! I’m late for work!”
I gather up my purse and lock my door again, then dash to my car. When I look back, the wolf is still sitting on my deck.
Just … sitting there.