Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
E mery
“Stay back!” I yell at Chance with my hands up. I back up without paying attention and end up tripping over the plastic garbage bin.
I reach for the bright, orange-colored counter to stop my fall, but there’s no need. A pair of strong arms reach out, saving me from crashing onto the black tiles of the floor.
A warm tingly feeling pulses through me, then images of what I saw outside just minutes ago haunt my mind. I push out of Chance’s embrace.
“Let go of me!” I say louder than intended. “This is the lady’s room,” I tell him as if he doesn’t know.
Those plump lips frown and there’s a look in his eyes. As if he’s feeling rejected by my pulling away from him. His pronounced Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows, while taking a step back.
He gives me space, but now his body is completely barricading the door. I glance over my shoulder to see the tiny window that’s a few inches from the ceiling. I couldn’t escape out of here if I wanted to.
I do a quick sweep of the bathroom to see if there are any makeshift weapons I can grab. Aside from a couple of bottles of hand soap, there’s nothing.
“I’m not here to hurt you.” Chance’s deep voice draws my attention back to him.
For the first time, I realized he was dressed in different clothes than when we entered the diner. The deep V-neck of the T-shirt he has on shows off his very hard, bronzed chest.
My mouth dries. He must spend hours at the gym to get that type of physique.
I shake my head and remember where I am and what I witnessed not long ago in the parking lot of the diner.
This is no time to get sidetracked staring at muscles. No matter how sexy they are.
“I—please leave,” I say, though my voice comes out with a lot less harshness than previously.
Chance shakes his head. “I can’t do that,” he says. “Not without you.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” My voice is raspy. It’s almost as if I don’t believe my own words.
The truth is, I don’t know what to think.
Then I remember the night before.
I blink and stare at Chance. “Were those guys last night…” I trail off as the memory of the shadow of what I believed were dogs in the parking lot of the motel come to mind. “Were they…human?”
Chance gives me a hard look. It’s not quite mean or malice-filled. It is intense, however.
“Yes.”
His one-word answer sounds more like the beginning than an end to an answer.
“And they were wolves.”
Those words steal my breath.
“No, no, no, no…” I mumble the word over and over again while squeezing my eyes shut.
I palm my forehead repeatedly in an attempt to make myself wake up from this strange and scary dream. When I open my eyes, all will be right with the world again.
Ashley will be back in Upstate New York, where she’s safe.
And I will be in Colorado where I’m spending the summer working as an anthropology intern.
All I have to do is open my eyes.
“Stop it,” a deep voice interjects before I finish my thoughts and will myself to peel my eyelids apart. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Those words, for whatever reason, penetrate the haze of my confusion and fear.
Slowly, with deliberate effort, I open my eyes.
My shoulders slump when I swivel my head from left to right, only to recognize that I’m still in this small women’s bathroom of a diner out in the middle of nowhere, Florida.
That’s not even the worst part.
Worse still, is that I’m locked in said bathroom with a very tall, very strong and dangerously good-looking man.
A man who I witnessed change into a wolf, not too long ago. Now he stands before me, his huge hands engulfing my wrists as he hovers over me.
Our eyes lock.
I search his copper orbs with flecks of gold in them. His stare doesn’t waver or falter. It’s as if he’s allowing me to see right into his soul.
As if he wants me to see into the deepest parts of him.
That thought has me snatching my hands away.
I step back until my back bumps against the wall. My chest rises and falls as I try to form coherent thoughts.
I decide to go with the first question that comes to mind.
“What…” I pause to clear my throat. “What are you?”
His lips pinch. He’s debating his answer to my question.
I should’ve given myself more time.
I should have contemplated my question a little more deeply.
Because I’m not at all ready for his response.
“I’m a wolf shifter. Everyone in this diner is,” he says. His gaze hardens, and it’s his next statement that has me nearly passing out.
“And I believe you’re one too.”