Page 17 of Claimed By Werewolf
“And you know the answer.”
He didn’t deny it.
My heart pounded, half fear, half fury.“Then you owe me the truth.”
His eyes burned into mine, sharp and pained.“I don’t owe you a damn thing, Demi.But I’ll get you enough answers to put your brother to rest.That’s all I can promise.”
It wasn’t enough.But it was more than I’d had yesterday.
And for now, that had to be enough.
When he dropped me back at my apartment, the night was nearly over.He took my phone and entered his number.“You need me, you text or call me.No more just showing up.”
I took my phone back and nodded.I climbed out of the truck with my body buzzing with exhaustion and adrenaline.He didn’t say goodbye.Didn’t even look at me as I closed the door.
But as I walked up the steps to my building, I felt his gaze on me.
And even though I knew I should’ve been terrified of him, and of what I’d seen him do tonight, all I could think about was the way his voice had cracked when he said,I know.
And the way, for one fleeting second, I’d wanted nothing more than to touch him.
Chapter Nine
Werewolf
I should’ve never told her.
That was the first thought that burned through my head as I lit a cigarette outside her apartment building and watched the glow of her window blink to life on the second floor.She hadn’t looked back after climbing the steps.Didn’t wave.Didn’t thank me.
But she didn’t have to.
The hollow ache in my chest said enough.
I’d given her more tonight than I’d given anyone in years.Too much.Enough to put a target on her back ten times bigger than the one she already carried.
I dragged deeply on the cigarette.Smoke scorched my lungs as I stared at the empty street.
Tyler Cross had been a liability.
I still saw the blood on the concrete outside the warehouse.Still heard the echo of his voice asking why.I hadn’t pulled the trigger, but I hadn’t stopped it either.
I flicked the cigarette into the street and shifted into drive.I told myself I was leaving her behind.That this was the last time.That I’d already gone too far.
But my gut knew better.
I wasn’t done with Demi Cross.
Not by a long shot.
The clubhouse was half-asleep when I rolled in with dawn bleeding gray across the horizon.A few brothers were still passed out at the bar with empty bottles scattered like fallen soldiers.The smell of stale beer and smoke clung heavy to the walls.
I parked out back and walked in.My boots thudded on the scarred floor.Every step echoed the memory of her voice.
Then help me.
Fuck.
I poured myself a shot of whiskey from the bar, downed it in one go, and poured another.The burn didn’t touch the knot in my chest.
