Page 32 of The Pucking Wrong Man

She left on foot—completely expected since most of the people visiting the community center relied on walking or public transportation rather than cars to get around. I left my truck behind at the shelter and trailed after her, staying a half a block or so behind her as she went along. This part of town was definitely on the rougher side of things, though—so that we could be close to the city’s occupants without them needing cars.

Which meant that she wasn’t safe…and I couldn’t take that. I needed to make sure she was safe.

It was a compulsion at this point.

Some men sitting on the street corner of a closed down gas station called out to her, and I plotted their deaths.

She went under a fucking bridge, and I almost had a heart attack.

And when she cut through an alleyway, I almost snatched her up to take her home with me.

There wasn’t very much housing around here. It was mostly boarded up buildings and smaller stores that were hanging on for dear life.

Where was she going?

I knew I was going to have to find a way to get into her place. I wanted to know everything about her. Where she lived.

Who lived with her…

Alright, I wasn’t going to think about that right now.

She turned another corner, and I got even more confused—there was nothing here but the…

My stomach dropped as she walked up the steps of Haven…a homeless shelter for women and children.

She was fucking homeless.

There was a strange feeling in my heart—a mix of anger and sadness and fucking devastation as I pictured her laying on a cot, a thin blanket and flat pillow all she had for the night. She’d be sleeping in the same clothes she’d worn today, lucky if her things didn’t get stolen during the night.

I knew from those couple of months with my mom, you didn’t get much sleep in a place like that…

No wonder she had dark circles under her eyes.

While Haven was better than most, it was still dangerous. Despair and desperation and finite resources tended to do that.

What if something happened to her tonight? Even with all the connections I’d made volunteering with most of the organizations in the city—I couldn’t get into that place.

I paced up and down the alley, my heart feeling like it was going to pound right out of my chest.

I had to get her out of there. I took a step toward the stairs, even knowing it was pointless. A guard stood up from the security desk behind the doors, watching me sternly, and I sighed and turned around. They weren’t going to help me, no matter how charming I was. That was the whole point of these kinds of shelters.

How had Anastasia ended up in a place like this? Why was she getting food from a community kitchen...weekly? But yet also dancing for a fancy studio?

I couldn’t take it. I was going to go insane from worrying about her.

One way or another, I was going to find out everything about Anastasia Lennox.

And then, I decided....

I was going to save her.

CHAPTER 6

ANASTASIA

“Anastasia,” a voice called, and chills immediately cascaded down my skin.

Michael.

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