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“Not sure yet.” My voice comes out strangled, and Elena shoots me a funny look.

“I’m going to Cascade with Carmen and the girls for the bachelorette party. Won’t be back ’til late.”

I snort. “Not dressed likethat, you’re not.”

Cascade is by far the shadiest nightclub in the Denver metro area. They pour the stiffest drinks and employ the laziest bouncers. It’s not uncommon for girls to get drugged and date-raped there.

Elena jerks her head around to look at me, and in that moment, she reminds me of Raf. My girl might be human, but if she were a shifter, she could command a pack.

Shit. When did I start thinking of her asmygirl? Elena has never been mine, no matter how much my wolf might want to pretend otherwise.

“Excuseme?”

I gesture at her dress, shaking my head. “That thing is a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen.”

“So what? We’re going to a nightclub. You’resupposedto dress a little slutty for a nightclub.”

“Then I hope for your sake that there’s an extra seat in the limo, because I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not!” Elena cries, sounding half scandalized, half amused. “It’s abacheloretteparty. That means ladies only.”

“And Maddox told me a bunch of the guys arealsogoing to Cascade tonight — a bunch of shifter guys.”

“I’ll be fine,” says Elena with an eye roll, turning back to the mirror and fixing her hair.

I let out a long huff of air, grab some clothes, and head back into the bathroom to change.

You asked for it, sweetheart.

Despite my earlier comment, Elena looks utterly confused when I emerge from the bathroom dressed in jeans and a nice T-shirt.

“You’re notserious,” she says, a nervous laugh bubbling up from her throat.

“Raf asked me to stick to you like white on rice this weekend. And even if he hadn’t” — I scowl at her outfit — “I’m not letting you go to Cascade dressed likethatwith only Carmen and her friends for backup. I’m coming.”

By the timewe pull up in front of the club, I already want to blow my brains out. My ears are ringing from the loud “woo” sounds all women make at bachelorette parties as they toss back Jell-O shots in a limo. Carmen is already three sheets to the wind, and I’m honestly impressed she can still walk in a straight line while wearing four-inch heels.

Elena’s the only one not drinking. According to Raf, she hasn’t had a drop of alcohol since her accident. I spent some time reading up on traumatic brain injuries while she was recouping, and apparently alcohol can make TBI symptoms worse.

I catch a few lustful glances from the other she-wolvesin attendance, but they might as well be store mannequins for all the attention I pay them. I’m too busy trying not to stare at Elena as she laughs and jokes with her friends.

Unfortunately, when we get to the door, the hitch in my plan becomes apparent. The bouncer waves the tipsy bachelorettes through without hesitation but pulls back the rope and stops me with a scowl.

“I’m with them,” I grumble, angry that he’s preventing me from putting myself between Elena and every scummy guy in Denver.

“Not right now, you’re not.”

I narrow my eyes at the bouncer, contemplating bribes and threats. But the guy looks strangely familiar. He’s at least six two and three hundred pounds. His face is a bit leaner and meaner than when I last saw him, but I’d recognize him anywhere.

“Jerry?” I ask, squinting sideways at the guy I had homeroom with freshman year of high school.

He jerks his head back, doing a double take. “Jake?” A wide grin spreads across his face. “How the hell are ya?”

“Not bad,” I say, my whole body relaxing as I smile back. Jerry was always making me laugh. I haven’t seen him since high school.

“Good to see ya. Go on in,” he says, waving me through. “Have a great time.”

I nod my thanks and skirt into the club, cutting through the crowd in search of the girls.