Page 42 of Tossed into the Mob
FIFTEEN
TREYTON
“Very funny.” I pulled on my pants and grabbed the keys and a jacket.
“I’m aware zombies are fictional, but they still scare me.” After reaching for the phone, I slipped my feet into a pair of sneakers. “But my wolf is real—you’ve seen him—and he wants to meet you properly. When he was trying to save our lives doesn’t count as meeting my secret self.”
Brock dressed more slowly, and I handed him his jacket, reminding him it’d be cold in the forest, especially during the night.
“A man I just had sex with suggested going to the woods to meet his beast, and I’m like, ‘Let’s do it.’” He giggled as he clutched the jacket in one hand.
I shrugged. “That sounds about right.” I headed for the door but wondered if I was being too flippant. Maybe Brock was scared. I swiveled toward him. “But you don’t have to. Or you can stay in the car and my wolf will prance around.”
He raised a brow. “Prancing, you say? Now that I’d like to see.” He raced past me and was out the door before I’d taken a step, and I was pleased he was so enthusiastic.
“What if he doesn’t like me?” Brock leaned on my shoulder as we descended in the elevator.
What? How can he say that? Let me talk to him?
It might be best if I communicate in words. You’ll see him soon enough.
I took my mate’s hand and sensed the moment my touch calmed him. The furrows in his brow evened out and so did his breathing.
“He adores you and has since you pointed a gun at us.” I didn’t add that my wolf was “rattling my cage,” desperate to make an appearance.
Brock giggled. “It wasn’t the most promising start to a relationship.”
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” My English Lit teacher would have been proud of me.
“Look at you quoting Dickens.” He pecked my lips and strode ahead of me to the car.
“My wolf would protect you with his life… with our lives.” I started the car and drove out of the parking garage.
“That’s reassuring, but I don’t want to think of you dying.”
“Not going to happen.”
He asked if I’d allowed my wolf to shift that day in the storage unit, and I explained that usually I gave him permission to take his fur. But that was instinct on his and my part. We both understood in an instant that my human self couldn’t help my mate.
“I fired and Riggs didn’t go down, so I needed to bring out my beast.” If I worked for Flint, I’d have to go to a firing range and practice because I was a lousy shot.
He asked me if I’d been scared when I shifted to fight Riggs. But I was driven by instinct to protect my mate. I couldn’t be frightened in that instant because I needed to focus on beating Riggs.
My wolf told me to forget about that guy. He was so excited, his enthusiasm made my heart speed up, and I jiggled as I drove outside the city.
“Are you okay?” Brock put a hand on my arm. My body was vibrating as my beast asked repeatedly,Are we there yet?
“Just looking forward to having you meet my other half.”
Brock harrumphed, saying he thought I was his other half.
“Emotionally yes, but unless you can crawl inside me, my beast is literally the other part of me.”
The closer we got to the woods, the more the air scented of decaying wood, moss, soil, dampness from the recent rain, and the sweet aroma of new growth. I inhaled, and my wolf calmed a tad. It was odd that I was a shifter whose beast was at home in the great outdoors, and yet me, as in Treyton, wasn’t fussed about traipsing around outside.
“Can you smell that?”
Brock wound his window down and stuck his body half out the window. I grabbed his jacket, worried he’d fall out head first.
