Page 13 of Kidnapped by the Wolf (Gold Creek Wolves)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CASSIE

The second I step out of the truck, I find myself questioning my decision. I knew Adrian would catch me easily on foot, so I hitched a ride with the first person I saw — a twentysomething laborer from Denver on his way back from a fishing excursion.

My creep radar is pretty good, and I wasn’t getting any bad vibes from this guy, but I told him to drop me at the first restaurant we came to — which, as it turns out, isn’t a restaurant at all.

The sign hanging beside the log cabin–style building says it’s a saloon, and there are at least eight or nine motorcycles parked out front. The scent of fried chicken hits me before I’ve even opened the door, and one look at the busted pay phone tells me I should have asked my good samaritan to drive me all the way into town.

Nervously picking at a scratch on my arm, I go inside, and ten pairs of eyes swivel in my direction. Growing up in a pack of truly savage bears, I’m used to being ogled. I ignore the strangers’ heavy stares and head straight for the old guy tending bar.

“Could I borrow your phone?” I ask.

The tattooed bartender squints at me suspiciously. I guess it is pretty weird for anyone to be without a phone these days, but so is being kidnapped by a wolf shifter. “What do ya need it for?”

“I just need to call a cab.” Luckily, the cash I made at the art walk is still in the pocket of my flannel. Hopefully, I can find my bus and figure out a way to get it un-impounded, if indeed it ended up being towed.

The bartender shakes his head. “You won’t find any cabs out here. No Uber or nothin’ like that either.”

“Then I’ll just . . . call a friend,” I say in a small voice.

Truthfully, I don’t have any idea who I might call. There were a few girls I hung around with in high school, but I haven’t seen any of them in years.

My father didn’t ever let me have friends over. He used to say if they weren’t blood or pack, they had no business coming around.

Standing there in the biker bar with no one to call for help, I realize with a stab of grief how isolated I’ve become.

“No need,” rumbles a familiar voice behind me, and the blood turns to ice in my veins.

A heavy hand comes down on my shoulder, and my whole body goes rigid.

“I’ll give the little lady a ride. It’ll give us a chance to . . . catch up.”

Turning slowly to see the man attached to the unwelcome hand on my shoulder, I feel instantly sick to my stomach.

Dane is towering over me with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“You know this guy?” rumbles the bartender, and I realize he’s addressing me.

I open my mouth, but Dane tightens his grip — his fingers digging into my collarbone so hard I know they will leave bruises.

“’Course she knows me. We’re engaged.”

Panic rises in my chest as I meet the bartender’s gaze and shake my head slowly back and forth. The bartender looks from me to Dane, and something sinister passes between the two males.

Immediately I realize I’ve made a huge mistake in coming here. No one is going to help me.

My vision narrows as Dane turns me to face the door and shoves me out into the parking lot. My mind quickly sifts through my choices: run or fight like hell.

Neither is a good option against a shifter. I wouldn’t make it three feet before the gigantic bear was on me. And Dane has a temper.

It seems safer to go along with whatever he has planned and wait for a better opportunity to escape. Adrian is ten times smarter than Dane, and I managed to escape him .

It doesn’t count if he lets you walk out the back door , I remind myself darkly.

Hopefully Dane doesn’t know how to remove spark plugs.

But as he leads me around to the side of the building and hustles me toward his beat-up truck, the leaden weight in my stomach grows heavier.

Adrian might not have returned my feelings, but at least with him, I always felt safe.

The same cannot be said for Dane. Even when we were sort of an item, my father’s second was hot-tempered, capricious, and violent.

I know before we even reach the truck that I’ve made a horrible mistake.

Just before he snaps the door shut, he grips my arm and leans in close. I recoil on instinct, thinking he plans to kiss me, but Dane doesn’t go for my mouth. Instead, he takes a deep, unsettling whiff.

“You smell like wolf, darlin’.” A stormy look whips across his face, and his smugness morphs into rage. “What have you been up to?”

Panic squeezes my insides as Dane whips around the hairpin turn. The truck swerves dangerously on the narrow road, and I realize if I hadn’t shown up at the bar when I had, Dane probably would have gotten shit-faced drunk.

As it is, he’s too inebriated to drive. He keeps drifting over the center line, all the while telling me what an ungrateful slut I am for leaving the pack for a wolf.

If he only knew.

Adrian didn’t want me — not really. I’m just Clint’s piece-of-trash human daughter. I feel like a fool for imagining that we could have had a life together, and now I’m going to die on some lonely mountain highway because of another selfish, egotistical male.

As we crest the last hill before reaching pack lands, Dane drifts over the double-yellow line. The blare of an eighteen-wheeler’s horn has him jerking the wheel hard to the right, and we narrowly avoid crashing into the side of the mountain as he struggles to right the vehicle.

My heart is pounding by the time Dane pulls onto the familiar dirt road and skids to a halt in front of my camper. He’s still cussing up a storm as he comes around to my side and hauls me out of the truck.

I don’t have time to contemplate escape. Dane’s grip on my arm feels like iron, and things are moving much too fast.

He opens the door and tosses me inside, and a sense of claustrophobia swamps me.

The camper that I once called home now seems small and pitiful. The fake wood paneling is scuffed and peeling. The carpet is matted and stained. And where I at least made an effort to keep the place clean, Dane hasn’t bothered. The camper reeks of beer and sweat, and the counters are covered in empty bottles.

“Home sweet home,” Dane slurs. “How does this place compare to your wolf’s den?”

He lets out a bark of humorless laughter, and I back up against the wall.

Dane’s not just drunk. He’s come unhinged, and every cell in my body is screaming at me to run.

I glance at the door, but Dane’s blocking my path. He was too drunk to see the center line, but he doesn’t miss the flick of my gaze.

“You thinkin’ of leaving me again?” His ugly mug twists in a scowl. “Well, aren’t you somethin’ else?”

Then his fist flies out.

A burning pain explodes around my eye socket, causing my knees to wobble. I hit the edge of the counter on my way down, and the impact radiates out from my hip.

“You wouldn’t be with me, but you fucked a wolf ?” Dane lets out a scoff of disgust. “Figures. You always were an uppity mutt.”

He slings the words like they still mean something to me, but I long ago stopped caring what Dane or my father or any of his bears think.

He can call me whatever he wants. I just have to keep him talking.

The longer Dane rants, the more time I have to come up with a plan. Besides the door, there are three windows in the main living area of the camper. There’s a fourth window in the tiny bathroom, but it’s too small for me to fit through.

My thoughts go to when I tried to escape through Adrian’s bathroom window, and the memory of us going down in a tangle of limbs makes my heart squeeze painfully.

Adrian .

Why didn’t he want me? It couldn’t just be because I’m Clint McGregor’s daughter. There has to be another reason.

Maybe he’s afraid I won’t bear wolf pups. But maybe I don’t have to be his mate.

Tears sting the corners of my eyes as Dane rolls on. I can’t hear what he’s saying anymore. My only thoughts are of the wolf I left back at the cabin.

I should have stayed and confronted him about what I overheard. Maybe Adrian would have had some explanation, but I can’t go back now.

“Answer me!” Dane hollers, but I didn’t hear the question.

Before I can open my mouth to tell him so, his fist connects with my ribs. I let out a strangled grunt and curl in on myself, wishing I was back in Adrian’s bed.

Dane sniffs me experimentally, though how he can smell anything over the putrid stench of his own vomit, I have no idea. “If he fucked you, he’ll be back for more. A wolf can’t resist marking his territory.”

A sinister grin spreads across his face, and the sick feeling in my stomach intensifies. There’s only one reason why Dane would be smiling like that. He wants to use me to get to Adrian.

“I think I’ll give your wolf a call,” he muses.

“N-no,” I manage, shaking my head. “He won’t come anyway. A-Adrian doesn’t want me. I mean nothing to him.”

“ Adrian ?” Dane’s voice is low and gleeful, and I instantly realize my mistake. “That’s the wolf you fucked?”

I shake my head frantically, but it’s too late. The damage is already done.

“You didn’t tell me you were whore to the alpha of the Gold Creek wolves.” He gives a dark chuckle. “Clint will have a field day.”

A feeling like poison seeps into my gut at the mention of my father.

“I wouldn’t tell him if I were you,” I say, my voice quavering with desperation. “You don’t want the whole pack to find out that I passed you up for a wolf.”

I figure it’s safest to appeal to his ego. But then Dane backhands me again, and this time, I see stars.

My knees hit the filthy carpet, and I feel his boot connect with my side. I make a noise halfway between a grunt and a cry, and Dane’s cruel face blurs in my vision.

“Don’t you worry about me,” he growls. “Not that you ever did.”

Then Dane lifts his boot and brings it down on my splayed hand. I scream as his weight comes down on the fragile bones and tendons, and he bends down until his ugly mug is nearly level with mine.

The stench of beer and liquor is overpowering, and I glare up at him through my haze of tears.

“You know, I’ve always wanted a wolf’s pelt mounted to my wall.”