Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 148955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Oh no. What?
He tosses it, rounds the hood, and goes to the front passenger door and pulls on that handle.
“They’re all locked,” I tell him.
He breaks the passenger handle, too. He glares at it before tossing it.
“Stop it!” I shout angrily. “Stop breaking my car!”
His eyes hit mine and his nostrils flare. Damn. He looks like he wants to inflict pain on me.
My mouth drops open. A naked man just pulled two of my door handles off. Shit. He’s definitely not playing with a full deck.
“D-don’t. Please. Just go away,” I plead.
He’s broken my handles. What kind of strength does someone have to have for that to happen? Why is he naked? God. I’m wishing I was back in that cabin of ill-repute right now. What the heck does my horoscope say today?
“What are you called?” he demands.
“What are you called?” I fire back, snarkily.
Eek. Snark probably won’t serve me well right now.
“I’m Tyson.” He then jerks up his chin. “Open this door now.”
“Sorry, no. Tyson. My boyfriend’ll be here any---”
He slaps the window, making me stop talking, making my body freeze tight before I dive through the two front seats into the back. I catch the sight of back dimples and I try really hard not to look downwards as more of his form comes into view, not wanting to see his bare ass or, god forbid… the front.
“Boyfriend,” he repeats through tight teeth and slaps the roof angrily.
He says it almost like it’s a dare or like I have audacity to have a boyfriend.
“Oh my God. Did you just dent my roof, too?”
The car begins to slide some more, and I think oh shit as it rolls. He gets a furious look on his face as he moves with the car, holding onto the roof, as if he’s trying to stop it from moving, but he’s only sliding with it. It rests with a crunch sound against that tree that makes me groan. My poor little purple car.
I’m trembling all over. I’m trapped in my car, which is now crunched, with no phone signal and a naked door handle-breaking man. Plus, a wolf is out there somewhere! Unless I’ve really lost it and he is also that wolf.
Damn it! I chastise myself for letting the thought seep past the lunacy-prevention barrier I’ve worked so very hard to keep in place my whole life. Too late. Here we go…
My brain unleashes all I’ve been trying to stop from invading it.
Same green eyes. Wolf goes, man is here. Naked. Nope, nope nope. No. That’s crazy. But it’s obvious. The naked man is a werewolf. But it’s crazy. I’ve seen too many scary movies. I’ve listened to Auntie Nelle and her crazy “we are not alone” and “magic is real” hyperbole one too many times. Strangely, today is the one-year anniversary of her death.
I shiver. Wait, what? It is, isn’t it?
This whole night feels like a bad, scary movie. There’s no such thing as werewolves. But…
I’m still clutching my cell in my hand. I tap the screen and look. I see a bar. A bar! I key in 9-1-1.
The sky darkens and strangely lightens while the rain halts. It goes from pounding hard to just stopping, like someone turned it off with a dial.
The call fails.
“Fuzz!” I snap.
He pushes with his fingertips hard against the top of the driver’s window and I hear it protest. He grunts with effort, glaring at me with an angry look on his face.
“No,” I whisper.
The sound tells me he’s having success. What kind of strength?
I hit the screen to redial 9-1-1. With trembling fingers.
Fail.
No signal.
He pushes the entire window in. It collapses. It falls in on the driver’s seat like the little black windows on my little brother’s toy dinky cars.
Holy shit. I’m not safe. I’m in big trouble. Even if I got my call through, there’s no time for help to get here.
He reaches in, fumbles until he finds the inner handle and opens the door. I scream and grab the button on the door closest to me, lift it, thrust the door open and before realizing I’m leaning into the door, I fall, onto all fours on the wet ground.
I scamper away, trying to run back up the hill to get to the road. I glance back and see the wolf sprint from the car (from the car!) and it’s running toward me. Oh shit, shit, fuck! It is a wolf. A wolf! A huge one.
Then he isn’t wolf. He’s running on two legs again as a guy. A naked running guy. He gets closer, and closer and then I’m hefted up off the ground.
He has me. Of course he caught me. And the minute he does, he makes a roaring sound of triumph. I cry out and go for his face with my nails. He hisses in surprise as my fingers rake across his cheek. The guy looked big through the window but in the flesh, he is absolutely huge. And he’s bleeding from where I scratched him.