Page 40 of Vicious Wolf Mate

“But… But… I love you.”

Once again, she doesn’t even look at Jax. “Well, then that was your first mistake, wasn’t it?”

Natalie makes her way to one of the cars. The man holding Mckenna gives hand signals to his men and they all close in on Jax, Drario, and me. He then continues dragging Mckenna away.

I don’t take my eyes of Mckenna. I watch her as she fights against the grip of her supposed husband. I watch as two sets of hands grab my arms and hoist me to my feet. I watch as she is shoved into a car. I watch to the last minute when a bag is tossed over my head.

Digging my feet into the ground doesn’t stop the men as they drag me away, but it does slow them down. That gives me some joy. I’m tossed in a car just like Mckenna but, judging by the grunt of the person I smack into, I’m with Jax.

The cars take off and I have to hope we’re all going to the same place. The only way to get out of this is by working together. Jax, Drario, and I can’t do this alone.

But the fear starts to creep into my mind. There were a lot of guns on us just now, and that was just a small tracking team. There will only be more guns wherever we’re going. I think we just might be screwed.

It doesn’t take long for the fear to be replaced by heartbreak. Jax isn’t the only one dealing with a betrayal right now. Why would Mckenna hide this from me? I can’t believe she’s married. I started to develop real feelings, was it all a joke to her? Was I just someone to fuck because she was bored?

It’s settled. The first chance I get, I’m escaping and saving Mckenna. I can’t get answers from her if I never see her again.

28

MCKENNA

“Excuse me!” I bark out. “Excuse, Mister Peabrain!”

My hands are secured behind my back. I am thrown into his car like poorly cared for luggage. Even if I couldn’t see, like I was blindfolded or something, I would recognize his bad driving, his bad breath, and his even worse ideas.

Ideas like kidnapping and abduction.

Psychically I can feel him flinch. So I offer his sensitive pride more niceties. “Mister Peabrain, is this how you operate now?” I ask. “What's up, homeboy? Are you sick of paying for escorts, so the next logical step downward is abducting women?”

“You are the one who has spiraled downward,” Dave answers. His voice sounds far away like he’s not talking to me, he’s talking to a version of me that, in his mind, is his possession.

“Kidnapping? Really? This is a new low for you.”

“You sound out of your mind right now,” Dave tells me.

“You are deflecting, asshole. You don’t have an answer. You are so whacked-out you don’t know why you kidnapped me.”

“I did not kidnap you,” Dave tells me flatly. “I am stopping an abomination.”

“What?” I scream.

“You heard me, and you know what I mean. Throwing a leg over with a shifter is exactly that. An abomination.”

“That’s pathetic,” I tell him. “You sound bigoted. You sound worse than bigoted. You sound like you don’t have all your oars in the water anymore.”

“You are shacking up with a shifter,” Dave adds incredulously. “What’s wrong with you?”

“We’ve been divorced for two years now,” I tell him. In my heart of hearts, I know I am talking to a wall. “It is absolutely fucking normal and healthy to be involving myself with others, which is none of your goddamn business.”

Oh, I so want to let the tirade rip, really blowout the pipes. But I can’t. I need to be sweet as an apple, say what will inspire him to drop his guard. I need to bamboozle him and get away. Or at least get as close as possible to cooperation. Dave’s mind is clearly not right. All the indicators on the control panel are telling me Dave is losing cabin pressure.

“It’s not healthy,” Dave answers me. “It is also not healthy to have dalliances with shifters.”

I ask. “Dalliances? “What are you talking about? We have been divorced for two years. Any fallout from the marriage and subsequent divorce is basically beating a dead horse at this point.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Dave says. He has that tone again, like he’s talking to a version of me that is in his mind and not the version he has tied up in his car.

“Pretend I am dense,” I tell him. “Explain what you are getting at.”

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