Page 11 of Defiant
Wrong question, Elena. Why’d you trust him in the first place?
I berate myself yet again, disgusted. I should have learned after everything Dad went through … you can’t trust an alpha to take care of you. Yet, what had I done? Bowed to stupid Black and listened to him when I should have run in the opposite direction.
I’d thought as pack alpha he’d protect me. I’d thought maybe some of the rumors were true, that the compliments Jonah paid him might be real and maybe I’d only ever been around assholes, not true alphas. I’m a fucking fool. Of course, if I’d tried to bolt earlier, it would have just put me exactly where I am now … running through the forest—but at least self-disgust wouldn’t be fizzing inside my stomach like nasty champagne threatening to come back up.
I can’t believe I did this, but I don’t try to delude myself—Idid it. I went off on my own. I trusted Black. Fuck me for trying.
Despair starts to shutter my eyes, make my vision tunnel, and I hear Black’s tromps getting closer. Fear coats my spine in sweat and I realize I’ve slowed down. I have to make a choice. I can either focus on the mistakes I’ve made or focus on getting away.
I inhale sharply through my nose and then double my speed, using everything I’ve got.
Black’s exclamation of surprise behind me sends a jolt of satisfaction through my stomach and I grab a low-hanging branch for leverage as I change directions. If he wants a chase, then he’s going to get a damned good one before he catches me. I’m not going to just roll over and show my belly like those other fools.
There’s a steep rise ahead, with boulders that I can’t just jump, and I have to lunge up using my hands to grab a branch on one of the hardy bushes that dot the hill. I yank on it as I try and pull myself on top of one of the worn granite stones. Something slides across my heel, and at first, I dismiss it as another branch, but then a hand clamps down on my arch and my heart sinks.
“Got you,” Black’s whisper is as dark as his name.
Panic explodes like bright red fireworks behind my eyelids as I feel Black’s huge hand slide slowly up over my aching calf muscle. His hands are like hot coals rubbing across my skin. The pads of his fingers and his palms are rough with callouses and his skin is blazing compared to the frigid cold that’s taken over my body. Fear makes my stomach lurch. I kick out, hard, and my foot connects with his thigh, pushing him back but not getting him off of me.
“Oh, no little devil,” he taunts.
I shove my foot out again. Money shot. This time I get him square in the jewels.
The hand holding my leg drops away and I don’t look back as I yank on the branch I’m still clutching and scurry up the boulder and then the rest of the hill, my fingernails ripping as I claw the rocks in my haste. When I reach the top, I feel like I’ve run a half-marathon—every part of me is on fire and my ears thrum with each breath.
I spot a yellow gleam in the distance which makes my heart slam frantically. There’s someone there! It looks like someone’s pulled a car over on the side of the road up the hill.
I beg my muscles to hold out just a little longer as I force myself to sprint that way.
God, I hope it’s some nice human. A woman, preferably, who has a car and a gun …Moon Goddess, let me run into a random badass bounty hunter woman in the middle of these woods. Please let her save me.It’s probably not the strangest prayer she’s ever heard.
I’m on fire as I run up along the grass and my thighs quake, lactic acid burning me from the inside out. It’s not until I’ve crested the hill and the wind is whistling past that I realize my cheeks are coated in teardrops. My chest heaves as I hurry forward, skirting a broken bottle some asshole tossed off the side of the road.
“Help!” I try to yell but my breath has been soaked up by the chase and what comes out is barely a drop of sound.
I swallow hard and try again as I burst from the grass onto the rough, tarry texture of the asphalt. My feet cry in protest but I ignore them as I stumble forward toward what looks like a luxury town car. Confusion mars my thoughts for a second because nice cars like that typically don’t go for forest drives. Rich people generally pull out their fancy gas-guzzling SUVs when they want to commune with nature.
Does it really matter?I scoff at myself.
I bring a chilled hand up to massage my throat as I scurry toward the car, searching for the driver. I see someone in a coat reclining against the hood, facing away. “Please, help, there’s a crazy guy chasing me—”
The guy on the hood turns. He’s got a clean crew-cut look and a jaw that could rival Orlando Bloom’s—just a hint of cheekbones. Hope zings through my stomach as he shoves off the hood and comes toward me, concern etched on his face.
“Miss, are you alright?”
I shake my head while tears flood my vision. I swipe at them with the back of my hand as the stranger moves closer. “There’s a man chasing me. Please—” I cut myself off when he gets close. Because on the lapel of the stranger’s black pea coat is a golden pin. A wolf-head lifted in a howl. It’s the symbol of the Lobos.
I skitter backward right into a wall. A wall made of muscles. A wall with arms that reach out and latch onto my forearms like shackles.
I stare down at Black’s blood-splattered fingers where they grip me and hope shrivels, dies, and decays inside my chest. I don’t even shiver when his warm breath fans across my ear as he says, “Gotcha.”
The stranger straightens and glances curiously between us but doesn’t ask. He just stares up at Black, awaiting orders like a puppet.
“Call for backup, then grab some lighter fluid and a lighter. Follow my scent. Light it up down there. Torch the tree. You’ll know which one. And watch out for the Dark Nights,”—Black’s hand tightens around my arm as he says it—“they’re running around like vermin tonight.”
“You got it.” The other man’s blue eyes flick over me curiously, but when Black growls, the guy just presses his lips into a firm line and pops the trunk. It’s filled with weapons and camping gear and I watch him extract a pack before he slams it shut. He pulls the pack open and hands Black a zip tie.
“Too bad that trunk’s full, princess,” Black murmurs as he shoves my hands together in front of me and zip-ties them with ruthless efficiency, the sharp plastic nipping my skin.
