Page 20 of Creature's Vengeance
“I think you might be seeing me soon,” I admitted.
“I thought so, Firecracker. Get some rest.”
Firecracker. He called me that nickname twice now.
It wasn’t just his eyes that I found attractive and hypnotic. It was the way he held himself—the confidence and intelligence,the need to protect, and his willingness to fight off anyone who tried to hurt me, even when I was a stranger.
Fatigue pressed in as I closed my eyes and rested against the pillows. All night, I dreamed of Balen “Creature” Hobbs. He invaded my mind, held out his hand, and rescued me from every monster. When my eyes opened, and dawn spilled over the horizon in a golden shimmer, I wondered if the hero who showed up in my life just when I needed him was a gift from my dead parents.
My father promised he’d always watch over me.
Maybe Creature was my dark knight, but I wasn’t a damsel in distress. I could save myself. At the very least, I had to try.
I got the shit beat out of me for standing up to a bully. I didn’t regret that choice. I’d do it again. In fact, I planned on it.
I wouldn’t stop until I found Bells and brought her home.
Chapter 6 Creature
“What else do we need?” I asked, leaving my phone on speaker as I walked into the grocery.
“Food,” Maddog answered. “No booze. We have enough liquor to stock a whole damn bar.”
Yeah, I saw that earlier before I left the clubhouse.
“Well, I can grab shit for sandwiches, chips, fruit. Frozen pizzas. That work?”
“Yeah, and some cases of water. There’s none here.”
Maddog had bought an old white van, and now I understand why he wanted me to bring it to the store. This shit would never fit in my saddlebags.
“Should I pick up some cases of soda? Sweets? I don’t know what the fuck everyone eats.”
Maddog snorted. “Yeah, man. Whatever sounds good. You got enough cash?”
He handed me a thousand fucking dollars before I left. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Oh, get me some fuckin’ brownies.”
Brownies? “You need chocolate?”
“Lark wants them. No nuts.” He covered the phone, and I heard a muffled conversation. “Add unsalted peanuts, cheddar cheese cubes, a couple of bags of salad mix, Ranch dressing, and Snickers. One of those big bags with the full bars.”
I had to hold in a laugh. “You got it, Pres.”
His voice lowered. “I want Oreos and milk.”
I snickered. “That for you?”
“Yeah.”
I thought so. He fucking loved Oreos.
“Alright. Give me some time to hunt this all down.”
We ended the call, and I walked the aisles with a cart, spending ten times longer than anyone else shopping in that store to find what I needed. The signs weren’t always specific enough, and the candy was in the specialty foods aisle. Why? I grumbled as I placed the last item inside and headed toward the check-out.
Every fucking one of them had a line.
