Page 5 of Pack Kasen, Part 1 (Caught #1)

4

KAT

I started working at Donnie’s in my freshman year of college.

During summer, I’d picked up temp jobs to save up as much money as I could before I arrived in a brand-new city. The cost of everything was eye-wateringly expensive, and unlike most of my college peers, I don’t have any family to rely on for help.

Even with scholarships, there was no way I could afford college without a job.

I timed things right, turning up at the busy student bar at 6 with a handful of resumes and a willingness to work hard. Donnie was understaffed, stressed, and pissed off because one of his deliveries hadn’t turned up. When I asked if he was hiring, he nearly bit my hand off.

Later, he admitted I was like his knight in black denim and ankle boots.

It’s been nearly four years now, and I’m practically running the bar when he’s not around. Unlike the other students who go home for the holidays, I stay on campus year-round. Even though it’s quieter without the students around, Donnie knows he always has someone who will work whenever he needs them.

As I push the double doors open, the scents of leather from the couches, varnish from the bar, and lemon cleaning products greet me the way it always has.

It’s a student bar with your typical pool table, plenty of big and small tables for students to gather in large or small groups, and a small dancefloor in the right-hand corner.

Donnie, the owner, takes pride in the place and he works hard to keep this place spotless. It’s one of the reasons I’ve worked here for as long as I have. My nose could not have handled working in a dump.

Donnie is in his usual uniform of a check long sleeve button down, black jeans, and he’ll be wearing brown cowboy boots because he says the ladies love it. At forty-nine, he thinks he needs all the help he can get to attract a woman, given he’s nearly fifty and is an unrepentant and rapidly graying workaholic.

“Have you got a life yet?” he yells across the empty bar.

I blow out a sigh as the door slams shut behind me. “I don’t know why I put up with this abuse.”

Grinning, he steps through the open bar hatch, crossing the room in a handful of steps. “You put up with it because you’re a damn good worker and I’m the best boss you’ve ever had.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Whatever happened to modesty?”

Wrapping an arm around my shoulder, smelling faintly of beer, liquor, and leather, he steers me to the back room where we have a small staff room, our own much-needed bathroom so we don’t have to use the customer ones, and lockers to store our stuff while we work.

He chuckles as he pushes open the backroom door and I jump when yells ring out.

“ Surprise !” Wide grins stretch across my co-workers' faces.

There’s cake, a small stack of pizzas—pepperoni and green peppers, meat feast, and one vegetarian, from the scents drifting from them—and red plastic cups filled with soda.

“It’s not my birthday.” I frown.

Donnie pushes me inside. “But it’s your last week here. I wanted to say thanks for all your hard work over the years.”

“And to convince me to quit my accounting job and stay here?” I ask, raising my eyebrow.

He grins at me. “That too. Come on. Let's eat pizza and cake before the crowd slams us.”

I take a seat with everyone else and dig into pizza, though I don’t eat nearly as much as I want to. If anyone knew I could destroy those five family size pizzas in under five minutes and it still wouldn’t touch my sides, they’d know I wasn’t completely human.

No matter how much I eat, I don’t get fat, which I put down to a crazy fast metabolism when anyone asks. And because I could bench press the whole football team if I wanted to, I stay away from doing anything that would make anyone give me a second look.

“When do you move into your big girl apartment?” Laura asks.

Her hair is pink today. Next week, she’ll be neon blue. How it hasn’t fallen out with all the bleaching she does will forever be a mystery to me.

“Not yet.” I wince when I recall the price of my new apartment. “I want to make sure I have that work contract in my hand before I sign on the dotted line.”

There’s no way I’d be able to afford an apartment in the middle of the city without such a well-paying corporate job, and I have no interest in living a million miles away from my office and being packed in like a sardine on the train to get to work each day.

Because the apartment is close to a park, it gives me a green space to explore so I won’t lose my mind working in an office every day.

If I have to pay a premium for an apartment near work and a green space, I’ll pay the premium, assess the situation after a year, and move if things don’t pan out.

We devour the pizza and cake, chatting about what we’ve been up to and the killings on campus between bites. But all too soon, we hear the DJ setting up in the bar, which means it’s time to start our shift.

As usual, the night is over almost before I know it. When you barely have a chance to take a breath between pouring shots and beers, time always flies.

I clock out at 11 and cut across campus on my way back to the dorms, enjoying my peaceful surroundings.

Since the murders started, there are more cops than ever before. The college must have hired more security to patrol at night as well because campus security has tripled. Instead of closing the college and sending thousands of students home, we’ve been told to not go wandering around at night.

It seems to be working because there are no other students around. Just me.

The students whisper that it’s a serial killer, and cops think it’s a wild animal that escaped from the zoo. But if there are fewer and fewer students out at night, how does the killer keep getting my exes and only my exes?

I make it to my dorm building, swipe my keycard to get in, and jog up the stairs to my room. I quickly use the bathroom and get ready for bed before switching the lights off and crawling under my sheets.

Approximately ten minutes later, the moaning starts.

I mentally curse.

Late at night, I wish my senses weren’t as sharp, especially when Rachel, the girl in the room next door, has her boyfriend staying over.

I yank my pillow from under my head and use it to muffle the sounds.

It doesn’t help.

Then again, it never does.

Beep, beep, beep.

Recoiling from the shrill scream of the alarm, I slam to the floor, briefly stunned.

My wolf howls in my head and I blink my eyes awake, blearily take in the time on my alarm clock, and curse as I scramble to my feet.

9:15. Shit . I should have been knocking on the assistant dean’s door fifteen minutes ago to discuss the speech I’m giving at the graduation ceremony.

Late for class is one thing. Late for an important meeting like that?

I swear I’m breaking out in hives.

Mentally cursing my roommate, I grab my bathroom stuff and sprint down the hall to the communal girl’s shower room.

I tried, and I tried, and I tried , but I swear the sun was rising by the time I finally fell asleep.

I’m in and out of the bathroom in under five minutes, and that’s only because I brush my teeth while I’m in the shower to cut down on time.

I sprint back to my room and stuff a T-shirt I grab at random over my head, shove my legs into a pair of jeans and nearly trip when I try to get my shoes and pick up my bag at the same time.

Halfway down the hallway, a door swings open behind me and Rachel yells something after me.

“Can’t talk. Later !” I yell back and shove the staircase door open.

I can’t help but mentally curse her some more when I take in her fresh faced appearance. She’s nice, always happy to share snacks and invite me over to watch a movie in her room, but I wish she and her boyfriend could get it on a little quieter.

I fly down the stairs, burst out of my dorm, and bolt for the campus. Thankfully, my dorm isn’t far away from the administration building. Only a ten-minute walk. If I run, I can make it in five or less.

On my way, I slow when I spot a familiar figure at the top of the library staircase. He holds a book aloft, nudging his glasses up when they slide down. “I have that book you were looking for, Kat.”

“Hey, Cristofer.”

Yes, I’m late, but I’ve been wanting that book for weeks. I make a hopefully brief detour and, as I dash up the stairs, he sneezes three times as he hands it to me.

It’s a book of the greatest speeches in history. I was looking for more inspiration when I was writing the speech I’m giving at the graduation ceremony when Cristofer recommended this one, saying it was the best. One quick flick through confirms he was right.

Smiling sympathetically at him, I shove the book into my bag. “Thanks, Cris. Allergies bad again?”

He lifts a tissue to blow his red nose. “I’m trying a new remedy to help with the pollen but it’s not working as well as the last. Eucalyptus and rosemary. The eucalyptus opens the respiratory system and rosemary helps with congestion.”

I like him, but being around him is like walking into a candle store, far too much for my sensitive nose. “Can’t you find a hay fever medicine that doesn’t make you sleepy?”

He shrugs. “My doctor thinks I’m highly sensitive. Even the non-drowsy stuff has an effect. Do you have a minute?” he asks when I’m getting ready to leave.

“Uh. I’m meeting with the assistant dean about…” My voice trails off when I spot a crowd forming near a parking lot. “What’s going on?” I ask, but I have a feeling I already know.

Beyond the milling crowd, cops stand around, having cordoned off the area with bright yellow tape.

Campus security is out in force as well, one of the green golf buggies they use to patrol blocking one side of the entrance of the parking lot so no one can enter.

There’s only one car in the parking lot.

My heart clenches and I grip my bag handle for something to grab onto.

Cristofer is saying something as I walk away. I take in a deep breath and run toward the crowd when I’d rather run away.

My pounding heart is like a band playing at full volume in my head.

The students hanging around whisper among themselves. They glance at me and whisper some more.

Rachel had her cell phone in her hand when she called after me in the hallway. Like she wanted to speak to me about something. Or tell me something important.

Why the hell hadn’t I stopped to listen? Maybe I’d have saved myself from this.

I struggle to tune out the students' whispers as the cloying, slightly sweet scent of death stirs my wolf’s need to hunt.

“Didn’t she go out with him?” a girl mutters.

I don’t even know what I’m doing here. There’s nothing to see. If there was a body, the cops have already taken it away. But there are blood splatters.

A cop picks something from a nearby bush and carefully places it in a large clear evidence bag. A white sneaker with a gray swoosh. My gaze lingers on it as I remember the first time I spoke with the owner of them.

I’d been sitting on a cold stone step outside a frat party, nursing a red plastic cup of warm beer I hadn’t wanted, when a guy sat next to me.

“You look like you’re wishing you were somewhere else,” he says.

I take a small sip from my cup. Not because I want it, but for something to do. “How’d you guess?”

When a chilling blast of wind whips through the night, he shrugs out of his navy blue and white varsity jacket and tucks it around my shoulder.

I’m a werewolf, so I rarely get cold. But he wouldn’t know that. His scent is all human. Clean sweat and a subtle cologne that doesn’t make me want to sneeze five times.

“That won’t work on me.” I place my unwanted beer on the floor before it turns my stomach even more than it has already.

I’m trying to embrace being a college student, and just like almost every single time I’ve let my dorm mates bully me into going to a party, I’ve gotten bored, annoyed, and wound up going back to my room early.

I’m not concerned he’ll try anything. If he gets handsy, I’ll make him regret it.

“I’m from a farm in Wyoming. If I tried what you’re accusing me of, Gramma Hart would slap me every second Sunday until I’d learned manners.”

I glance over at him, trying not to smile. “Your grandmother sounds dangerous.”

“Only to the rude. I try never to be that.” He grins at me, dimples on both cheeks endearing in a guy over six feet tall. “So you staying out here to avoid jocks, then?”

“Yep.”

He shudders. “Good idea. I’m also in hiding.”

I give him the side-eye, liking him despite myself. “Haven’t I seen you playing for the football team?”

Not just played. He made an epic game winning throw that sent the crowd wild. Me included. I hadn’t wanted to go to the game, but I was a junior with one more year of college ahead of me and an ingrained habit of work, study, and work some more.

Rachel had convinced me to live a little, and I’d had fun that night. I skipped the party the team had thrown after, but the game had been good.

The quarterback who’d ripped his helmet off to punch his fist into the air as he celebrated the winning touchdown had been hot. I hadn’t believed I’d ever cross paths with him again since we ran in different circles, and I haven’t until now.

He gives me a crooked smile. “I don’t know. Have you?”

I shake my head.

“It’s Doug Hart,” he says. “The Hart is important. My gramma will beat me up if I’m anything less than a gentleman, so you’re safe with me…” He offers me his hand with a warm, friendly smile that isn’t the least bit pushy.

I like him.

I don’t want to, but I do.

“Kat,” I say, shaking his hand. “Kat Meadows.”

“Miss?” a man's voice yanks my focus back to the present.

It’s a dark-haired cop standing on the other side of the police tape. The students who’d gathered around to see what was going on have wandered away, probably to get to class.

It’s just me left.

My grip around the strap of my bag is nothing less than bare knuckle, and my cheek is wet though I don’t remember shedding a single tear.

I brush it away as I back away from the police tape.

The concerned cop steps forward. “Are you okay?”

I force a smile to my lips. “Sure. Fine.”

I quickly walk away, though I feel his gaze burning a hole through my back.

My wolf is quiet, but she’s the only one in the world who could understand the agony twisting my gut.

I just lost someone I hadn’t wanted to give up at all but needed to. I was freeing him to have the life he deserved with someone else.

Someone normal.

Now he’s dead.

If we’d still been together, maybe I’d have been with him when this happened. Sure, he might’ve seen me change into a wolf, but I could have fought back and protected him.

He’d have lived .

I make my way to the administration building, knock on the assistant dean’s office and we talk about a graduation speech that had been the center of my world for so long, but now I couldn’t give a flying fuck about.

I nod and I smile when everyone nods and smiles at me, while inside my head, my wolf gives my grief a voice, howling for me like I can’t out loud.