Page 26 of Bred By the Wolfman

I shake my head in disbelief. “What does that mean?”

“He’s fine. Nothing exciting, just fine.”

When she says it, though, I think I know what she means. Robbie is a nice guy, and as my belly slowly starts to show, he doesn’t act like he minds. Still, he keeps a polite distance, never expressing affection or admiration for it.

And that’s just fine with me. I’d rather pretend it wasn’t there, because these days, it only serves as a reminder I’ll never see Bill again, and that sparks a drowning hopelessness in me.

“But do you want ‘fine,’ Dee?” Liesel asks, prying deeper. “Is that really going to satisfy you?”

I don’t know how to explain to her that being with Robbie is not about being satisfied. It’s about holding off the uglier thing hiding deep underneath it, the truth that I don’t want to face.

“Find me a better option,” I finally say. “I dare you. Who’s going to date the lady whose job is to get pregnant?”

Liesel lets out a displeased tsk. “Just another McFlips,” she says, but doesn’t push me any farther.

I’m going to be content with what I have. Someday, I’ll forget about him.

RUSS

It’s agony, really. But I have no choice.

I watch my woman day in and day out. Whenever I’m not at work, I’m parked on various streets in her neighborhood, never returning to the same place too many times. The last thing I need is to arouse the suspicion of one of her neighbors.

After leaving my car, I find a comfortable spot where I can keep an eye on her house. I’ve got strong arms and big claws, so it’s not too hard for me to climb up onto a roof nearby and observe from there. I learned early on not to get close to the house, because it appears Dee has a dog companion, and it diligently barks at me whenever it catches sight of me lurking around.

At least there’s that. She has someone else watching over her, too, when I can’t be around.

I follow her wherever she goes, whether it’s to the grocery store, to Liesel’s house, or to her boyfriend’s place. Sometimes she drives a little erratically, which makes me crazy. I don’t think I could bear her getting into a wreck. But I keep a few cars back, so that if such a thing were to happen, I would be there in a blink to help.

Every time she heads into Aston, I know she’s on her way to see that fucking detestable man. When she parks in his driveway, I find a spot around the corner where my car is hidden from sight, and quietly close the door as I get out. I want to climb over the fence into his yard to get a better view, but Dee usually brings Boomer with her, and the dog would go ballistic if he saw me.

I hate this human imposter. I fucking hate him more than I’ve ever hated anything. Whenever I see his face appear in a window I just want to punch him as hard as I can, so hard I knock him out or kill him.

Every so often at night, I hear her cry out, and I shudder all over knowing it’s someone else soaking in her hot, wet pussy. It should be me. My instincts almost boil over at the sound of it, and I have to tamp down the rabid urge to rush inside the house and tear them apart.

But her cries... aren’t the same as what I remember. They’re strange, almost false, and that gives me a faint glimmer of hope that maybe I still have a chance someday when she gets bored of her beau.

And that day will come, I know it. Then I’ll make my move.

twelve

RUSS

My favorite activity, which is, perhaps, also the most depressing one, is to sit in a high tree at the park and watch my Dee recline in the summer sunshine. Her water bottle rolls off to one side as she lies back, wrapping one arm around her dog and covering her eyes with the other. She’s... perfect like this, her soft belly now gently swelled, visible even when she’s flat on the ground. Sometimes she even lets out her long, dark hair, and more than once I’ve desperately wanted to jerk off in my hiding place up in the boughs.

Fuck, I need her. I need her like I’ve never needed anything, like food or water or sunshine.

But I can’t ruin her life, either. She seems to be happy—or happy enough. If I did appear at her door as Bill, there’s a very good chance she’d turn me away.

I don’t think I could stand that.

It’s a Tuesday when I’m watching Dee at the park before work, relishing how the sun plays off her skin, how she rests one hand on her stomach like she’s protecting it. I shift in my position in the tree, trying not to make the branches creak. My legs are starting to fall asleep from standing crouched for so long, but I have to stay alert. Anything could happen out in the open like this.

On the path nearby, a runner goes past with a dog in tow. The dog isn’t leashed, though, and the moment it sees Dee’s sweet hound...

It takes a hard right turn and lunges towards them.

I’m on the ground before I even realize I’ve jumped out of the tree. Fueled by pure instinct, I sprint across the grass, toward the dog with the bared teeth. Dee still has no idea, and remains supine on her picnic blanket.