Chapter Seven
Annie
Wick’s intense scrutiny is like having his hands on me. His warmth transfers to me as I pass by him.
My mate wants for nothing.
Mate. Who does this asshole think he is?
Mate my ass. He’s a fucking dragon and I’m human. That’s impossible.
No, the best thing I can do now is escape and figure out my next move.
Dragons are obsessive with objects they consider part of their hoard. If Wick somehow thinks that includes me, I need to escape before I’m forced into a dungeon and chains.
I don’t know much about shifter society. They’re among us but also insular. I don’t even know how dragons group together. A pod? Clutch?
He stared at me like a prized possession. The thought still gives me chills.
Instead of heading to the bathroom, I meet Violet in the abandoned employee lounge.
“Here,” she says and trades her keys and debit card for my cell phone. “He’ll never guess you’re in my car. Like you said in your text—lay low a few days and we’ll regroup.”
The keyring includes my spare apartment key, but he’ll look for me there. I need somewhere to go, to hide until the whole thing blows over.
“Thanks, Vi.”
“I already sent Milton the message that your grandmother died. I’ll use my spare key to drive your car and phone to your apartment, then come back. Your pussy must be 24-carat gold if he thinks you’re mated,” she tells me with a laugh.
“Very funny. I just need to get away from him for a little while. He’ll get bored and move on to the next shiny object.”
“I don’t know about that. Dragons are known for their steadfast obsessions. You sure you don’t want to go home with him? Might be nice to be pampered.”
“And become a forced shut in? No, thank you.”
“Suit yourself. Buy a burner and check in with me, yeah?”
We hug, and then she lets me leave first so it isn’t obvious.
Sitting in my best friend’s car, I have no idea where to go. My love of boutique coffee shops pays off, because a lot of them are in or near smaller hotels.
Plans formulate in my mind, organizing and rearranging the options.
To a library first, where I use the public computers to transfer several thousand dollars to Violet from my account.
Now, I need to max out a few ATMs until I’ve got a comfortable cash cushion to run with.
I’ll hole up in a hotel for a week and ride out my dragon’s misguided focus.
After several hours of driving in circles as a precaution, the fourth hotel I go to gives me a room without a credit card on hold.
The woman behind the counter gave me a grim smile when I asked to pay in cash for a week in advance. She didn’t even flinch when I provided a name for the reservation that was not on my driver’s license. She probably thinks I’m running from something awful. I’m a thousand percent certain she broke a rule—or five—for me, but I’m not about to get her in trouble for it.
With my room key in hand, I move Violet’s car to the lowest level of a parking garage a half mile and several hotels away. A quick stop at a convenience store and a neighboring bookstore, and I find my way to my room with a giant bag of snacks, a burner, a few romance and puzzle books, and a lighter mood.
The room is pristine with white sheets and spotless tiles. It’s generic, with a queen-sized bed and a dresser with a TV and desk, and utterly beige. It may not be The Botanical, but it’s more than livable.
I plug the phone in but leave it off to charge faster and flip on the TV for something to do.
After the final Jeopardy question, the local news banners flash across the screen. One of the nightly news anchors with hurricane-proof hair sits behind the curved desk and speaks into the camera.
“A forest fire originating in Hunt Park is still being extinguished by firefighters hours after it began,” the news anchor informs viewers.
Holy shit! That’s right next to Parsens. I can see Hunt Park from my windows. I turn on the phone to shoot off a text to Violet, both to give her the new number and make sure she’s okay. She should have been back at the office hours ago after dropping off my phone and car.
“Authorities believe an accelerant was used based on the area of ignition and heat levels. Anyone with information is asked to contact the PD162. In other news, an angel investor has been saving local small businesses in the Central Slope area...”
The TV drones on, but I don’t pay it much mind. Instead, I lay awkwardly on my side where the phone cord reaches and telepathically urge Violet to respond.
And, because best friend ESP has been perfected between us, it immediately rings.
“Vi, are you okay?” I ask.
“Hi, gorgeous,” Wick answers.
Fuck.
“Where is Violet?” I grit out.
“She’s fine. She gave me her phone.”
“Violet would never part with her phone.”
“She would if I bought her the newest model.”
“She already has the latest model. She brags about it all the time. What did you do to my best friend?”
“The phone she clapped and hopped around excitedly for doesn’t come out until next month.”
Alright, that does sound like her.
“Then how do you—you know what, it doesn’t matter. Let me talk to her.”
Weak mattress springs groan on the other end of the line. Where is he? He doesn’t seem the type to go cheap on a bed.
“She isn’t here, Annie. She’s off playing with her new phone in her new car.”
“ New car? You can’t just buy my best friend!”
“I’m not buying her. As you noted, you are not a possession. Let’s consider it an investment. For what it’s worth, she resisted for quite a while.”
“Sure, it only took a new phone and car to convince her to betray me. Some friend.”
“I may have also detained her for an hour or two.”
“Define detained .”
“Nothing untoward, but she did sit in an empty room for an extended period of time until I thought she’d hear me out.”
“That’s all it took?”
“I think you know her well enough to know that’s torture all on its own. You’re not the only one I’ve researched.”
“I still can’t believe she betrayed me over boredom.”
“And the fact you are my mate. I can be quite persuasive.”
“ Ugh , this again. Listen, asshole, I don’t know who you think you are, but we are not mates .”
Ice clinks in a glass during a long pause. There’s the slightest sound of sipping, and I have this sudden image of the way his throat worked while he ate the cherry from my drink.
“You can resist, Annie, but we are mates. Eventually, you’ll come home. You belong with me.”
“I belong with no one. We aren’t compatible.”
“Aren’t we? Tell me where you are. I’d bet I can prove how compatible we are in under two minutes.”
“Very funny, Wick.”
“Tell me where you are, and I’ll prove I’m not joking. I’ve been dreaming of the taste of your pussy for ten long days. I’m hungry, gorgeous. Would you deprive a starving man?”
More like thirsty.
“That’s not even a convincing attempt,” I mutter, but even I can tell I don’t really mean it.
“No? You don’t want to know that every night, I come to the image of you writhing beneath me? When you dropped your eyes at the meeting, I promised myself to make you kneel for me. Wouldn’t that be fun? What salacious dreams have you cooked up in that creative, brilliant mind?”
“We’re not doing this,” I interrupt him to say.
“Doing what?”
“I’m not having phone sex with you. We aren’t mates. Move on. Find a new... find something else to obsess over.”
I catch myself before I can say to find someone else . My mouth won’t say the words, like my body refuses to give that thought air even though my brain knows it’s what’s best.
He rumbles that sly chuckle that skitters over my nerves and leaves a lurid warmth in its wake.
“You’re my entire focus, Annie,” he says. “We are mates. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you. If you need to run, then I’ll gladly hunt you down. I’ll prove I’m worthy of being your mate.”
How to escape this situation?
Shit, did I disable the GPS on this phone?
“No need. I’ll come to you,” I lie. “Where are you?”
“At your apartment. This mattress is shit, but it smells of you, and I really fucking like that.”
He’s at my apartment?
“You bought my building, didn’t you?” I conclude.
“And the management company, and your favorite coffee shop on the corner. The owner was ecstatic when I told them I wanted to upgrade the kitchen. Something about a croissant recipe.”
“You can’t buy Marni! You had better leave them exactly where they are, as they are. They make the best latte in the city.”
“I haven’t forced a single person to do anything they haven’t wanted to, but you’d be surprised how enough cash will move wheels at Autobahn speeds.”
“Give up on me, Wickham. I’m too expensive.”
“You’re worth what I’ve paid and more. Come home to me, Annie.”
“Not in a million years.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to come get you. I’ve never been to the Savvy on Fifth. How are the rooms?”
“Clean but boring.”
“The Botanical will gladly roll out the red carpet for us again.”
“I’m not . . . ” My voice drops off.
“Annie?” his smoky, resonating base asks through the phone.
“I’m going, Wick. Don’t chase me.”
“Then don’t run.”
“You know I can’t do that.”
“Keep the phone at least. Disable the GPS. I don’t like you being out in the world without being able to reach me.”
“You aren’t my keeper. I can do what I want. I can leave and find another one night stand to hide me.”
“Any man who touches you will be ash the moment he removes his hand,” he seethes.
Oop, not the right thing to say.
“I’m going, Wickham.”
“ Annie —” is all he gets out before I end the call.
I need to pack my meager belongings, convince the clerk to refund me for the unused days, and find another place willing to give me a room.
But first, I stare at the phone and debate what to do with it.
I should leave it behind. He already knows I’ve been here, so there’s no danger in tossing it.
But instead, I poke through the settings and disable the GPS tracking. I open the text chain with Violet.
The response is instantaneous.