Page 25 of Wolf

With a thrill, I look around and step forward, ignoring her dubious expression, as I say, “I want to see my sister.”

“And you think I can make that happen—how?”

“You hang out with them,” I say, waving my hand.

She shakes her head, raising a dark brow. “Lilli, we’re notbuddies. I’ve only seen her a couple of times and it wasn’t planned.”

“Can’t you reach out to her?” I ask, my spirits plummeting.

“No, I can’t. And I already said, Wolf isn’t talking to me.”

“Sorry,” I say, but in this, I’m lying. Still, I was so close to another adventure and bowing my head, I fight the sting of tears as I turn away.

“Look,” Darcy says, after a moment, “we can try but I don’t guarantee anything.”

“Really?” I grab her hand, and she rolls her eyes but says as she pulls away, “Later.”

The bag with Miriam’s change of clothes is gone so I’m forced to go as I am. I don’t have an alternate though, so it’s hardly my focus though as I walk through the woods in the dark by myself. I should have picked a different place for Darcy to pick me up but it’s the only spot that came to mind.

Now, icy cold sweat drips down my spine as I approach the road because for all I know someone is waiting in the bushes to attack me. Thankfully, all I see is Darcy’s car and relieved, I slide inside.

Darcy eyes my outfit like it might bite her before dropping a bag in my lap. “Here.”

While she pulls away, I root around before pulling out a pair of jeans and a stretchy material that I hold up with a frown. A belt?

“It’s a tube top,” Darcy says, rolling her eyes.

Tube…top? Huh.

Despite my unease, I quickly pull the pants up and then squirm like a jerk when I get to my hips. Heaving and huffing, I finally get them into position but suddenly I can’t breathe.

I’m still considering the top and how the hell it’s supposed to work when Darcy pulls down another road.

“Hurry up,” she hisses, and I jump before pulling the top into place.

With no little horror, I stare at my chest and reconsider this whole damn thing. My boobs feel like they might pop out at any second and I haven’t taken a deep breath since I struggled into the form-fitting denim.

“Look at me,” Darcy says and before I can protest, she’s painting my face.

When she’s done, she hands me the purple lipstick and I pull down the mirror.

My dark eyes pop, accentuated by deep brown shadow and with a little thrill I swipe on the lipstick. I have no time to admire myself any further though because she throws a pair of heels my way and opens her door.

Since I was expecting us to go back to the track, I’m appropriately confused as I stare at the open field. Where are we?

“You coming or what?” Darcy asks and I slide the heels on with a wince before wobbling behind her as she leads me through the crowd. When we stop by a log situated next to a fire, she points and says, “Sit before you hurt yourself.”

Dutifully, I drop to the log and glance around but there are so many people here it’s impossible to see if Miriam or Wolf is among them. However, what I do notice as I search through the crowd, is that these people seem a bit older than what I was expecting.

I don’t see any of my peers, which should be a good thing but who are these guys milling around?

When I stop on a man standing beyond the fire, I find the patch that adorns the same vest Wolf wears, and I sit up with a little thrill. Beyond the man, a group of women converse, and I eye the woman at the front, waving her hands in the air. Her long dark hair sways around her hips and squinting, I confirm, it's the same woman who had her hands all over Wolf at the track that first night.

When Darcy returns with a drink, I sip on it absently, continuing my quest to find either Miriam or Wolf. Stopping on group after group, I gaze over men wearing the same vest as Wolf, others without the patch and women in between but I don’t see anyone that I recognize.

Across the way, two guys rush each other before another one tries to intervene. I’m sure my jaw drops when they trade blows, but I’ve never seen a fistfight before, and I glance around cautiously.

No one else seems all that concerned, so I try to relax. The bigger guy, sporting a short ponytail and with a tattoo on his bicep that says “Sheila” punches the smaller, wirier guy who I notice, is also wearing the Saints patch on his vest.

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