Page 17 of Strelitzias in Spring

“Then wait here while I set mine down. Maybe we can dance, or talk?” He seemed so eager, so desperate for me to say yes, that I couldn’t help but nod my head. “Great, don’t leave…” He looked at me, a smile breaking out across his face, before continuing, “What’s your name, beautiful?”

“Serena.”

“Serena. I like it. My name is Jack. Just don’t go anywhere.” I watched him leave, small butterflies erupting in my stomach at the attention paid to me by a handsome stranger. The butterflies were nowhere near as volatile as when I saw Wolf or had his hands jabbing ink into my skin, but I took the fluttering as a positive sign.

Only seconds passed before I felt warm breath on my neck and powerful arms band around my midsection. Startled by the intimacy, I tried to pull away, but the grip around my waist only tightened, preventing me from moving.

“Let go of me.” I struggled, gripping the forearms imprisoning me and trying to break free. A disfigurement on the inside of the thick wrist made me still, freezing me in place as I looked at the decimal mark-like scar.

“Dylan?” As soon as I said his name, the grip holding me in place loosened, and I took the opportunity to spin around, coming face-to-face with my former best friend. “What are you doing? Why are you here?”

“What am I doing?” Dylan chuckled darkly. “What are you doing? You don’t belong here. What fucking happened to you?”

“I became the person I was always supposed to be,” I retorted, taunting him like an idiot instead of disengaging and walking away.

“And you’re proud of that? The Serena I knew would be studying like the good little girl she was rather than half-naked in a basement, panting after some guy’s dick. Devin was right about you; one taste of cock and you became a fucking slut for it.” My slap was so quick, so instinctual, that I didn’t even realize I broke free from his hold to deliver it.

I was about to back away when Dylan grabbed ahold of my wrist and squeezed. “Don’t you ever put your fucking hands on me again. I don’t see your friends here to protect you, and don’t forget, I know you, Serena. I know you can’t defend yourself for shit, so don’t start something you can’t finish.”

I gasped, shocked and disgusted at his words. “Are you threatening me?”

“No, I’m promising you that you won’t get another free shot in.”

“Hey man, let go of her.” I whipped my head around to see Jack standing beside me, a look of confusion adorning his face. “You’re hurting her, let go.”

“It’s nothing she doesn’t deserve,” Dylan replied before pushing off me and stepping back, placing much-needed distance between us. “You fucking changed, Serena. You’re a goddamn embarrassment.”

Jack stepped between us, cutting off Dylan’s line of sight. I didn’t wait for any more verbal harassment; I just ran out of the basement, up the stairs, and into the nearest open door.

Which happens to be this bathroom, where I’m huddled on the floor and contemplating every decision I’ve ever made and every word I’ve ever spoken.

Yelling and crashing erupt outside the bathroom, and I whip my head toward the door. Whoever is out there sounds furious, like a lion trying to break out of a cage. “Where the fuck is she?” a voice growls. Goosebumps travel down my arms, and my body shivers. I know that voice; I’ve dreamt about that voice.

It’s not a lion that’s here; it’s a wolf.

9

Wolf

“Where the fuck is she?” I seethe, my voice laced with anger. The minute I walked into this hellhole, I had whipped cream sprayed on my face, and strawberry sauce poured down my arm. Normally, I wouldn’t be annoyed that a girl squirted in my face—hell, I’d probably pound my chest and feel like the king of the fucking mountain any other time—but in this context, I’m just pissed.

I glare at the girl who ambushed me, no doubt solidifying myself as the big bad wolf in her nightmares, but fuck her and fuck this. These kids have to be at least eighteen—too goddamn old to be playing with food.

“Wh-who?” a voice asks behind me. I turn to see a tall brunette dressed in a red corset leaning against the wall, arms folding over her midsection. She clears her throat as I continue staring. “Did Celeste send you?”

I nod once, running my hands over my freshly buzzed head. “I’m her cousin, Wolf. Where is Serena? C said she was in trouble.”

Her gaze moves from me to the door to my right. “She locked herself in the bathroom. I don’t know what happened, just that she ran off after a guy confronted her. Jack, my boyfriend’s best friend, intervened after he met Serena and tried to get the guy, Dylan, off her, but he refused to move. I think he came as one of the brothers’ plus ones.”

I narrow my eyes at her words. “He put his fucking hands on her?”

Corset Girl nods, distress coating her features. “He was pretty worked up, Jack said, and looked like he was going to hurt her in the middle of the basement.” She hiccups at the end of her explanation, either from too much alcohol or too much emotion. Maybe a combination of the two.

“She’s through this door?” I tilt my head toward the nondescript door. The girl nods, hiccupping again. “Okay, you can go now.” Turning, I dismiss her without another thought and take a deep breath, unsure of what I’m going to find on the other side of this door. The thought of a man—any man—putting his hands on a woman pisses me the fuck off, and part of me wants to find the guy that hurt her, seemingly physically and emotionally, and put him in a sleeper hold.

Fucking hell, is she going to be in tears? Rubbing a hand over my face, I let out the breath I was holding and raise my hand, knocking lightly on the wood.

“Serena?” I call, loud enough to be heard over the god-awful pop remix blaring from some unseen speaker.

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