Page 57 of Seduced By the Werewolves

As tempting as it is to ask him to take me right here, I have to get to the office and face whatever is waiting for me there.

Of course I want to leave my shitty job—but I don’t have that kind of luxury.

Eventually Jace lets me go, and he watches me as I get in my car and back out, heading off down the country road.

I’m not sure what I was expecting to find at the office, but it’s not what I get. When I deliver Mr. Bosley’s coffee, my hand shaking and my breath already growing shallow, he just grins at me. It’s an eerie, too-wide sort of grin that looks unnatural and dangerous on him.

“Good morning,” I squeak out. A few seconds pass, and when he doesn’t answer—still smiling—I scurry back to my desk and plant myself in the chair.

God. I think this is even worse than the alternative I had imagined. Is he just going to wear that knowing, shit-eating smile all day?

I try to focus on my work, but it’s impossible. Luckily, I’m ahead on things, so while Mr. Bosley’s hiding in his office, I flick mindlessly through my social media. I have a friend request from Quinn, which makes me giggle under my hand. His profile picture is of himself in sunglasses, arms over two pairs of shoulders whose owners are off-screen, standing in front of a gorgeous mountain backdrop. I accept the invite, of course, and start browsing through his photos. He definitely likes to take selfies at the beach, and usually drags one of his brothers into the frame, all covered in sand.

This is just avoiding the problem, though, of what to do about this fucking job. I turn over Beatrice’s warning in my mind. I’ll never be able to find another gig like this, with a good salary, dental insurance, and a 401k. But after last night, it’s feeling more and more like I’m a bug being ground under a boot.

I need to escape, or it’ll crush me.

I look up my title of executive assistant on Job Finder, just to see what’s out there. Most of the positions listed require a bachelor’s degree, and every job description makes me cringe—there’s no way I know how to do all that stuff—but I read through them anyway.

I guess I should start writing a résumé. I may not be qualified for any of these, but there’s no harm in trying. Not when this is the alternative.

At closing time, I decide to pack up and leave, even though Mr. Bosley still hasn’t left yet. I thank every star in the sky that I didn’t have to face him again after this morning, and he decided to keep a low profile in his office. I couldn’t stand that grin of his any longer. He wouldn’t have the gumption to give me a smarmy smirk like that if Leon and Jace and Quinn were there—no, he’d cowered in front of them like a spineless rodent.

I’m so dazed on my way home, remembering that rather wonderful moment when the guys told off Mr. Bosley that I don’t notice the black SUV behind me until I’m nearly to my apartment.

Oh, shit. Not this again.

Chapter Twenty-One

Fuck. I squint into my rearview mirror, trying to make out who’s driving the black car behind me, but the windshield is too tinted. What do they want?

Hastily I take a right instead of a left, away from my apartment. Maybe it’s just a coincidence that it looks like the same black car that followed me before, but the last thing I need is to show them where I live.

I keep driving, taking random turns. The car continues following me, mimicking each one, but keeping a good distance behind me as if they think I haven’t noticed them yet. I’m starting to panic, wondering where I could go that they wouldn’t tail me. What would they do if I stopped? Would they jump out of the car and swarm me?

Then I remember: the guys are working in the next neighborhood over. Surely if I can find them, I’ll be safe from whoever is on my ass.

Immediately I hang a right in the direction of Work Street. The SUV continues following as I pull into the fancy neighborhood, driving straight for the house with the Lupine Landscaping truck parked outside.

I sigh with relief that it’s still here. Leon, Jace and Quinn will know what to do.

But when I pull up, there’s only one person there working. It’s Eli, with his short-cropped, dark hair, leaning over a shovel.

I hurriedly park next to the truck, then watch in my rearview mirror as the SUV continues past me with a vroom. When they’re gone, I exhale a long breath and drop my forehead against the steering wheel.

“Are you okay?”

I didn’t realize my window was down until Eli peers into it. He has that same inscrutable look on his face as he did this morning—and the same one he had yesterday when he found Quinn and me together in the princess’s castle.

My anxiety, which is already on high alert, has now decided that look of his is certainly because he hates me.

“Y-yeah.” I sit up straight in my seat and force on a smile, even though the panic is still boiling underneath my skin. “Everything is fine.”

“Then why are you pulled over to the side of the road looking like a ghost?” He furrows his brow.

“That car was following me. The black one.” I peer into my side-view mirror, just in case they made a loop.

“Following you?” His frown gets deeper. “Are you sure?”

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