Page 14 of Wolf Fated
I had to calm myself down. If they returned with me looking like this, they’d know I’d found the bloody shirt. Then there would be no reason for them not to do the same to me. After all, a dead girl told no tales. I shuddered.
Read. I needed to find something to occupy my mind. Pretend I never saw the shirt or all that blood. Told myself there had to be a reasonable explanation for it. Like… like they had a weird lawnmower with blades that were more like claws or teeth and could make marks like that on the shirt.
Their library was stocked with the most popular novels and books in every subject I could think of. They even had hardback books and the latest paperbacks of everything from aliens to zebra shifters. I highly doubted they read all these, especially the romance. A spike of jealousy tickled the back of my neck that these were for women the guys had over. I was sure with them being wealthy they had orgies and parties galore.
There was even a mini bar carved out of the rosewood.
Pushing aside the odd feeling about them being with other women and bringing them here, I kept looking through the books. I ran my fingers along the spines. Opening a book then putting it back. I chose a book with a mermaid on the front cover and settled down on the cozy-looking couch to read. The story was about a girl who wished to be a mermaid and would sing a sad, lonely song every night until her true love came to give her fins.
“Brook?” a male voice said behind me, and I jackknifed upright, the book falling to the floor.
Axel faced me and I felt like my heart stopped for a moment. He wore a dark suit with a crisp white shirt underneath and his dark hair was combed back like he had just stepped out of a GQ magazine. Most of the women I knew would be happy to be in my shoes right now and I couldn't say that I blamed them. All three of these rich men were drop-dead gorgeous and I felt danger coming off them in waves. Then the memory of the bloody, torn clothes flashed in my mind, and I swallowed down a scream.
He held two drinks in each hand. “Welcome to the real world.”
“Why did you lock me up in here?” My chest tightened. I really didn’t want to piss him off. I had to play this smart until I could get away. Make him think that I hadn’t found the bloody clothes and was merely curious about the three days they’d vanished.
I hesitated as I stared at my hands in my lap when he didn’t answer me.
“Relax.” Axel sat next to me, handing me a drink. “I’m not going to bite you, yet, but I can't promise Drake won't."
My laugh stuck in my throat, remembering the bloody shirt, but I took a sip of the rum he’d poured for both of us.
"You’re a beautiful woman.” He fingered the edge of my sleeve.
I snapped my head up, my face heating at his complement and fear of him reading my mind and knowing about the shirt. “Have you heard from—”
"Stephen?" Axel scowled like the name left a bad taste in his mouth. "He knew the rules going into the game and chose to try and beat all three of us. Not great odds."
"But he had a four of a kind. Yours was the only hand that could beat him."
"And he gambled on the chance that proved wrong." Axel lifted his drink to his lips, breathing in the scent before taking a drink.
"Wouldn't you have done the same? He thought he couldn’t lose." I held my drink in my hand, not drinking any yet. My stomach knotted. How could Stephen have done this to me? Did he regret what he’d done now that he wasn’t in heat of the moment during the game and had thought better of it.
"No," Axel snapped as he stared into me like he could see my soul and I shuddered. "That's where you're wrong. I'm nothing like your ex-finance." He grasped my chin, forcing me to keep looking at him. “If you were mine, I would never put you in this position. I would never wager you in a bet. Ever.”
I shifted on the couch, pulling out of his grasp. "If you're saying that Stephen was being reckless, don't. You’re rich, you don't know what it's like to have to work until your feet are blistered and hurting or you've burned yourself delivering hot plates of food to people so much that you can't feel heat on the tips of your fingers anymore. This was our chance to not have to worry about our next paycheck ever again."
The muscle in his jaw twitched, and I gulped down my drink before I said anything more. The liquor tickled down my throat and warmed me all over. Just how strong of a liquor was this? I didn't know if it was nerves or this whole fucked up situation, but I normally didn't talk to people like this. Then I realized I had committed a dangerous, cardinal sin, I had accepted a drink from a stranger without knowing what it was or if it was spiked or not. My palms started to sweat, and I rubbed them onto my skirt. Was this how the other women had died? The bloody, shredded shirt popped into my mind.
"You think we're spoiled rich brats?" Axel’s tone was deep and level, sending prickles through me and I tugged my skirt down.
"Aren't you?" What was I doing? I felt both dangerous and elated, like I was fixing to jump out of a plane with a parachute I wasn't sure would open or not. This wasn't me. I did safe things like not gamble, like not take chances, triple-checked everything. Yet here I was poking what felt like a wild bear with the angry vibe pulsing from him.
Axel shook his head. “None of us were born rich. We made it on our own without pimping out our woman.”
My throat tightened at how right he was. How my anger toward Stephen for putting me in this situation had only escalated. I glanced down at my drink, but it was empty just like the promises I’d had all my life.
"What Stephen did was selfish and put you in danger." Axel squeezed his glass and it shattered in his hand.
"Oh, my God, you're bleeding." I rushed over to the minibar and grabbed the cocktail napkins. I touched his hand and a spark twisted up my arm. I opened his hand to reveal wide, long fingers. There were dots of blood across his palm, but not as much as I was expecting. I dug out the shards of glass, carefully placing them onto the napkin. Axel's hand was calloused and must have kept most of the glass from cutting into him.
For a long time, neither of us spoke as I cleaned up the glass. But I felt the heat of him and our closeness like tiny electric shocks running through me. My touching only his hands felt more intimate than being naked or even kissing.
Must be the alcohol and me not eating much over the last two days with my stomach in knots from being locked up and then the bloody shirt.I shook my head, letting go of his hand. “I think I got all the glass out.”
“Thanks.” He squeezed his hand briefly, but his amber gaze never left my face, and I felt a tugging deep inside my chest. “You seem a natural with this.”
