Page 43 of My Girlfriend is a Werewolf

“And who are you?” Grams asked. “Barging into our home. Being rude.”

“I’m someone you don’t want to mess with.” Rogers’ flat reply.

“What are you, a cop?” Gramps barked. “Let’s see a badge. Or better yet a warrant.”

“I don’t need those because the people I work for don’t officially exist, but let me assure you, they have clout. Enough clout to seize this farm from under you.”

“Doubt a judge would go along with it,” Gramps argued.

“Did I mention they buy judges all the time? Is Athena really worth losing your livelihood and home?”

“If I knew her, which I don’t, I’d say she’s probably worth saving if it pisses off the likes of you. Rude little fucker, coming into my home and making threats after calling me a liar. Git,” Grams spat. “Git before I load you full of buckshot.”

“It’s like you want me to hurt you.” Dr. Rogers sighed. “I take no pleasure in it, just so you know. However, my work is too important to have a pair of hillbillies standing in my way. So either tell me where to find Athena or this conversation is about to get ugly.”

“Fucking prick.” Gramps’ chair creaked. “You’ve got a lot of nerve. Now git your ass and that of your goon off my property before I put a hole in them.” So not just Rogers in the living room.

“I’m not leaving without Athena.”

Click-click. Someone was armed.

“You don’t want to do that,” Rogers replied softly.

“Try me, asshole.”

Zap. A taser went off—a sound she well knew since they’d used it on her a few times while in captivity. The sounds of a scuffle erupted, grunting, the smacking of flesh, an exhalation of pain, and Grams yelling, “Motherfucker.”

Athena ran into the room to find Grams holding the fireplace poker and a guy in combats lying prone on the floor, but more worrisome, Rogers stood over a dazed Gramps, the electrodes from the taser still attached to his chest. Gramps had his eyes closed, and his breathing appeared ragged.

“Move away from Gramps,” Athena growled.

Grams, despite one eye swelling shut, waved the poker and yelled, “Run, Athena. We’ll hold them off.”

As if Athena would leave them to Rogers’ mercy. “Here I am, Doctor. Come and get me.” She beckoned with her fingers.

Rogers arched a brow. “Do you think me dumb? March your ass into the van parked out front, or I kill the old man. I upped the voltage. Next push of the button and he’s frying.”

Athena held up her hands. “I’ll go with you but leave these folks alone.”

“In that case… after you.” Rogers indicated the front door.

Athena began walking. She had no choice. The thing she’d worried about had come to pass. She’d dragged innocent people into her shit, and they’d gotten hurt.

Rogers smirked as she passed him. “Did you really think you could hide from me forever? Count yourself lucky I found you, because my next step was to grab your siblings to see if they share your genetics.”

“They don’t.”

“You do realize their blood will tell.”

“Leave them alone,” she growled.

“I will so long as you behave. See, I don’t need all of you, just one for proof, and given you and I have a history, I want it to be you by my side when I tell the world exactly what you are.”

“She’s a good girl, unlike you, you prick,” Grams retorted. She’d inched close enough to swing her poker.

The blow didn’t knock Rogers out, but he did stumble. Gramps, who’d been playing possum, ripped the barbs from the taser free and rolled, if awkwardly, to his feet.

“Gramps, get Grams out of here.” Athena didn’t take her eyes from Rogers, who looked entirely too confident. Might be because he had Gramps’ gun in hand and his goon was stirring.

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