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Chase is too drunk to remember the last thing Madden wantsis to just be taken for a ride. You wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, but the big guy’s a hopeless romantic.

Kane pulls Chase back into his seat and rolls his eyes.

“If we’re going to go through that system we wouldn’t be just applying for one heat,” I say, trying to reassure Madden.

“I’m down to do whatever is best for the pack. If that means going to apply for a heat to take the edge off of things,” Madden says, eyeing Chase in the back seat. “Then that’s what it means.”

“Nah, it’s okay, buddy,” Chase says, closing his eyes, oblivious to the tension in the car. “If I need to take the edge off I can always find someone for that.”

“You fucking idiot,” Kane sighs, “Stop making me babysit you and shut up. Everyone knows you’re a fucking man-whore.”

Madden and I burst out laughing.

I’m usually a pessimist, but I have a feeling everything will work out for our pack. Because we have each other. Regardless of what life throws at us, we’re going to figure things out, together.

CHAPTER 3

Luna

Everything hurts. I guess in a way I’m being dramatic because as I catalog all my pains as I wake up, not everything actually hurts.

But still, I feel like I’ve earned the right to be dramatic, at least in my head.

The pains that are the most concerning are the ones along my ribs and back. The pain in my jaw is a little annoying, and there’s probably a colorful bruise where my dad hit me, but that won’t stop me from doing what I have to do.

My eyelids feel like they weigh two tons. Luckily, they’re only swollen from the tears I cried and not any black eyes.

I crawl over to the thin mattress in the corner and wrap my blanket around my shoulders. Clients pay more for it, so I only get to wear a tiny nightgown down here. It’s probably the worst possible thing to try and run away in.

That doesn’t matter. I can’t stay here. I’ve never truly fought back. Not like I’m planning to now. There’s a first time for everything, I guess.

I push myself up and onto my feet, hunching over when a waveof nausea hits me. I dry heave, sweat appearing on my brow. Lucky me, I have nothing to throw up.

I eye my target and stumble towards it. The window at the top of the cellar leads outside the house. If I can get to it and pop the screen out, I should be able to get outside.

I’m not moving half as fast as I’d like to, but I manage to drag over a couple of cardboard boxes lying around in the corner. The stack wobbles beneath me as I climb up it.

I push against the wooden window frame as hard as I can, biting the inside of my cheek so hard it bleeds as I try to stay quiet. The abused muscles on my body scream in agony. The window opens with a creak.

The cold winter air hits me, sending goosebumps rising along my skin. I drag myself through the small opening, scraping my knees along the concrete. My fingertips become wet when they touch the thin layer of snow on the dirt lawn.

This is it.

I close the window behind me, hoping it’ll buy me more time if there isn’t a draft in the cellar. And then I run.

My bare feet pound against the pavement, quickly growing so numb I stop feeling them. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to stretch my legs out and run like this. I can’t help but take a deep breath to make sure this is real.

The pain that racks my chest with every movement reminds me of why I’m doing this. I don’t know where I’m going, all I know is I need to get away. Which means I need to get off the main road.

I hear a horn in the distance. The horn of a train. Perfect. This is exactly what I need. Something that can help me get away as far as I can.

I turn towards the sound, pushing myself through a couple more blocks of old-looking houses before finding a train yard. I stumble over the first set of tracks, letting out a small cry when the sharp rocks underneath me slice into my legs.

My tears cool on my cheeks and I let out a painful cough as I try to catch my breath. I can’t stop here. I can’t.

I push myself up to my feet, thankful for the adrenaline and cold numbing the pain. I cross a couple more tracks, weaving through stationary cars, heading for the steady noise of the moving train I heard earlier.

Relief floods my body when I spot it, moving along the tracks at a steady pace. I spot one of the cars with an open door and squeeze my hands into fists.