Page 2 of Wolf's Forbidden Curse

"No, I'm not. This chain is real. I swear to god." I looked around the nearby shops but didn't see anything advertising itself as a place to pawn goods. "I would go with you to a pawn shop if there was one to prove it, but I don't think that's an option in this town. But I swear this is legit."

The man's face softened slightly, and I could tell he was considering the chain with a bit more zeal. "Where'd you get it?"

"Who cares?"

He bit the inside of his lip, dimpling the skin above his chin.

"Trade me," I said. "And go to the nearest pawn shop to see for yourself. If it's not real or you don't get enough money for it, then you'll know where to find me. I'm not leaving this town any time soon, and it seems like the kind of place where you could track me down pretty easily. How does that sound?"

He rocked back on his heels. "Why would you get into my cab and ask me to take you to the coast if you didn't think you had enough money to pay for the full trip?"

"I didn't know how much it was going to cost." That was the truth. After traveling around the world for most of my adult life, I'd lost track of how far the US dollar went in the actual US. "I'm not trying to screw you over. I get that you work for a living and that you've got bills to pay. That's why it's in your best interest to take that chain and go have yourself a great payday."

He folded his arms and sighed.

"Please. Just trust me."

After a couple of tense seconds, he held the money out, and we made the swap. "I don't trust you," he said. "Just for the record. But I have a kid I'm trying to put through college, and an extra three or four hundred bucks could help pay off his books this semester. Plus." He grinned. "Like you said, I know where to find you if I have to."

"You won't have to." I rearranged my duffle bag so that I could carry it on my shoulder along with my overstuffed backpack and closed the trunk. "Thanks again."

"Good luck," he said as he got into the car once more.

"With what?"

"With whatever it is you're doing out here," he said. "Seems to me like you might need it."

I didn't respond. He shut his door and drove off. Once he had turned the corner and was out of sight, I stuffed the money into a sock and put that at the bottom of my backpack. Then I sucked in a deep breath and took in my surroundings. There was a corner market across the street, a swim shop, and a boardwalk stretching out to my left, and finally, a bar up a block on my right.

"Thank god," I muttered under my breath. I had that fiver left in my pocket, and I saw a sign for half-off drinks for the next two hours. "I need a drink."

"Want another?"

Al, the sweet middle-aged man who had poured me my first beer, was pointing at my now-empty glass with a raised brow. The bar was called "Smart Choice," named after the owner, Al Smart, or so I'd learned when I read the little plaque in the bathroom.

"Nah, I'm tapped out," I said, tossing my five-dollar bill across the way to him. I didn't like letting people know how much or how little cash I had on me. The cabbie was an exception. "Keep the change. Not that there's going to be much."

He picked up the crumpled bill with a confused expression. After putting it into the register, he picked up my glass anyway and filled it to the brim.

"I wasn't lying," I said. "I can't afford any more drinks right now." If I was going to try and make the last of my money stretch in this town for a while, I would have to be stingy. Sleeping on the beach wouldn’t help much if I blew the rest of my money on overpriced booze.

"I know. This one's on me."

I possessed a healthy amount of skepticism when it came to people I didn't know—especially men—so I didn't reach for the glass right away. "Why?"

"Because I've been in your shoes before," he said. "Although I will say that I was a little too smart to spend my last five dollars on a crappy beer. You could've gotten a shot of semi-decent whiskey for the same price."

"I wanted it to last."

He nodded, and I eventually pulled the frosted glass closer to me and took a tentative sip. He smiled and ran a hand through his graying hair. "So what brings you to town anyway?"

"Is it that obvious that I'm new around here?"

"To me, yes. But only because I've lived here my entire life, and I know just about every local in the area. And because you're wearing dark jeans and a black t-shirt when it's sunny and 75 out."

I smiled into my glass. "Ah, yeah. I guess that's making me stick out like a sore thumb. I just got in today. I've been looking for a new place to live, and Solara Bay seemed like a good spot to settle down. You must agree since you never left."

"I think it's a great spot. But I hope you're not planning on buying a house out here—because prices have skyrocketed, and every time a new one goes up on the market, it gets snatched in a matter of days. Hours even. For someone who's paying their tab with a crumpled-up bill, I'm not sure you're going to have much luck with the housing market out here. No offense."

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