Page 9 of Rescued

Something about his words twists in my chest, leaving an ache I can’t shake.If the wolf left on his own, does that mean he wanted to?The thought stings more than I expect, and I rub at the hollow feeling growing beneath my ribs.

Why does it hurt so much?

Todd’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. “Tell you what,” he says. “I’ll swing by the vet clinic later today, before my shift, and ask Adam about your vanishing wolf. He might have some ideas on whether it’s possible the wolf got out on his own—or how to find him if he did.”

The idea of Adam helping is a small comfort, but it doesn’t ease the gnawing worry in my gut. Todd continues, “Maybe the wolf’s instincts kicked in, and he headed back to his native territory. It’s not like he got a warm welcome here.”

That thought makes my stomach churn even worse. The idea of never seeing the wolf again claws at me, and I try to tell myself it’s just concern for his welfare. That’s all it is—concern.

It’s not safe for him here. Kaufman’s version of ‘animal control’ is a death sentence, and even if I found a way to keep the wolf here, it wouldn’t last. Shasta isn’t changing anytime soon.

Still, the thought of him being gone—really gone—leaves me feeling strangely hollow.

“Thanks, Todd,” I say, my voice quieter now. “Let me know what Adam says.”

“Will do,” Todd replies.

I hang up, staring at the phone in my hand for a moment before setting it on the counter. The ache in my chest doesn’t fade, no matter how much I try to rationalize it.

The wolf is gone.

And it feels like I’ve lost more than I had to begin with.

The idea of finding the wolf only to release him somewhere safer—and never see him again—sits heavy in my chest, like a weight pressing down. It doesn’t make me feel better. Hell, it makes me feel worse.

It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong to want to keep him for myself. He’s a wild, magnificent creature, and he doesn’t belong to anyone. But no matter how much I tell myself that, the feeling lingers.

It’s more than just a sense of connection. I can’t shake the idea that the wolf is mine.

Which is bullshit.

The wolf doesn’t belong to anyone. He’s a creature of the wild, meant to roam free. Yet, even as I think it, a strange notion whispers in the back of my mind.

Maybe I kind of belong to him…

I pause, the thought leaving me unsettled. It’s ridiculous—just as ridiculous as the dreams and the strange emotions that have been swirling in me since he arrived.

Shaking my head, I focus on the present. I finish my call with Todd, thanking him for his help, and head to my room. The other dogs still need me, and I’ve already wasted too much time searching for the wolf. As much as I want to keep looking, my responsibilities can’t wait.

Turning into my room, I force my mind away from the wolf and toward my to-do list. The dogs need feeding, the kennels need cleaning, and there’s always more to handle around here. My morning erection has long since deflated, forgotten in the midst of my frustration and worry.

Jerking open a dresser drawer, I start digging through the mess of clothes I never bother folding properly. “Where are my freaking sweats?” I mutter, shoving aside T-shirts and mismatched socks. “I swear they were here…”

The loud pounding on the front door startles me so badly that I slam my fingers in the drawer as I shove it closed.

“Ouch! Shit!” I hiss, clutching my hand. My heart pounds, partly from the surprise and partly from dread.Who the hell is banging on my door this early?

The only person I can think of is Kaufman.

The idea draws a groan from deep in my chest. If it’s him, this day has officially gone from bad to worse and it’s only just started. It’d be just my luck for him to show up now, right when I’m at my wits’ end.

Muttering a string of curses, I march to the door, frustration boiling over. If Kaufman’s here, he’s getting a piece of my mind.

I yank the door open, ready to let him have it—but the words die in my throat.

Standing on my porch isn’t the sheriff. It’s a man.

And not just any man.