Page 32 of Fury

Chapter Twelve

Penelope pulledon the tape binding her hands behind her for approximately the thousandth time, knowing it was futile, but refusing to give up.

She'd woken hours ago with a massive headache and a fire in her belly that wouldn't be squelched no matter how long she tried to get loose.

Her captors had left her in this shack and hadn't returned. As far as she knew they might not be coming back and her survival depended solely on her ability to get free.

Although, she had some sick sense of dread in the back of her mind that made her feel suspiciously like bait. For what she didn’t know.

One of those men had clocked her in the head from behind and knocked her out cold before she could get much out of them. So, thanks to that, the fate of Sawyer was also unknown to her. He could be holed up somewhere nearby or he could already be dead. She had literally no intel to go on.

Her stomach twisted and bile rose in her throat at the mere thought of his death. Something akin to grief threatened her, making it difficult to keep her mind on her options. She had to push through it.

To give her aching arms and shoulders a rest while keeping her mind occupied, she opted to listen for any sounds of life outside these four walls. She'd already deduced she was near the water due to the unmistakable sound of water lapping at the shoreline.

Unfortunately, this entire region was comprised by the Puget Sound, countless bays, peninsulas and dozens of islands leaving the possibilities of her location far too vast.

She held her breath hoping that would help her hear something more useful to no avail. After a few minutes of hearing nothing new she went back to struggling with the tape. And thus her cycle continued. Fight the tape. Listen for clues. Fight the tape. Listen for clues.

More hours passed and with her body drenched in sweat from her struggles and every muscle seizing with pain from her efforts, she finally heard something different.

Her eyes snapped open and she turned her head toward the door. She held her breath waiting to hear it again to confirm she'd not been imagining it. At this point, it wouldn't surprise her if she heard something that simply wasn't there. She'd gone straight past hopeful and into desperation hours ago.

And then she heard it again. A long howl rang out in the far distance. The wind maybe, she thought. Or possibly an animal. Before the next howl ended another one joined it, sounding much closer and Penelope perked up further. That did not sound like the wind.

Something or someone appeared to be riling up the local wildlife. That could mean her captors were nearby and/or possibly on their way back. With the thought of her possible death imminent, a burst of adrenalin had her fighting once again to get free. The tape had curled against her skin in several places, but it had yet to stretch enough for her to work even one of her hands free.

As she struggled, the animal noises got louder until they sounded like they were right outside. She stared at the door, waiting for something to happen when a series of gunshots filled the air and replaced the yipping animals that ironically sounded a lot like wolves.

The idea that her captors were shooting at innocent people or animals made her blood boil. Whoever the hell these assholes were, they were crazy. She hoped they got bitten—or maybe worse. Wolves were ruthless when provoked.

Tired, hurting, hungry and thirsty she wasn't thinking about right or wrong. Only that if she were free, she'd happily shoot every last one of them. In fact, the blood lust coursing through her at the moment demanded a different kind of justice that had nothing at all to do with the law.

The gunfire continued as did the fierce growls that now sounded right outside her place of captivity. A louder shot rang out and a distinctive yelp made her scream.

She didn't have much time to think about it though. A few seconds and growls later, the door slammed open and Sawyer appeared in the doorway. Dirty, bloody and completely naked.

Her mouth fell open at the sight. So overwhelmed at what stood before her and what she'd been through, her eyes didn't know where to land as she stared at him.

Golden skin wrapped around layers of hard muscles that ran across his entire body. From the thick bunch of his shoulders to the bulging curves of his arms and all the way down flat abs and—oh my God—she was pretty sure her eyes were bugging out of her head right about now, but she couldn't stop staring.

If not for the sudden growl that erupted from him, she might have never come out of the trance his appearance had put her in. Instead her head jerked up as a slice of fear worked down her spine.

"Sawyer?" It was then she finally noticed that his facial features were a little off. His brows were thicker and heavier than before and his nose and mouth seemed—different. And there was blood running down his left arm.

“What's going on?" she asked. "How did you get free? Are you hurt? You have blood on your—”

"Mine," he said, the rumble of his voice filling the small shack.

That slice of fear from before grew and she sat helplessly as he fell to the ground, his arms and legs contorting while making horrible noises that sounded like his bones were breaking into pieces.

She screamed at the horror show happening before her eyes. One minute she'd been staring at an exceptional specimen of a man and the next a very large wolf had emerged and began advancing on her. She thrashed against the chair she was tied to, more frantic than ever to get free.

“He won't hurt you, I promise.” Another naked man had entered the room, this one she recognized from her case file as one of the three owners of Club Diablo. Dante, if she remembered correctly. They had a dossier on each one of the brothers and she’d studied them all.

As the wolf sniffed at her leg, she sucked in a breath, unable to even form a scream.

“Try and relax and just let him sniff you. The wolf needs to make sure you're okay.”

---