Page 70 of Wanted
A growling from deep inside of me moves up my belly, chest and nearly scratches its way out of my throat. I barely manage to hold it back.
“What does he see in you?” she asks with obvious disdain. She sniffs the air. “Are you even a wolf? You smell weird.”
It’s obvious this woman has some sort of feelings for Chance. Despite my rational mind telling me that doesn’t mean Chance even knows her or has had anything romantic with her, I take her challenge personally.
“The last time I was with him he said he would never mate,” she says with a flick of her long hair. “He’s probably just using you like he does every other woman he’s been with.”
With him.
It’s clear what she means by those two words. Every instinct in me immediately wants to rip her hair out. I force myself to take a step back, away from her.
“Besides, with his defect he thinks he’s too broke to ever mate with anyone.” She shrugs and then looks at her nails. “Just as well. It’s not like my alpha would accept me marrying a wolf who can’t even hear.”
“What the hell did you just say?”
Her eyes flutter and widen as if she hears the danger in my voice. Yet, the emotion quickly passes and she gives me a dismissive roll of her eyes.
“What you didn’t know? He tries to hide it but we all know what’s going on. It’s not like I wanted him to mate me or anything. Hey?—”
Before I can stop myself, I’m grabbing the back of her hair.
“Get off of me!” She tries to push me off of her but some unfamiliar to me strength tightens my grip on her hair.
“Don’t ever talk about him like that again!” I growl. “You should count yourself lucky that a man like Chance would ever look twice at your sorry ass.”
I pull her hair so that she’s forced to look me in the eye, even as she struggles to loosen my grip.
“Chance is more than you could ever deserve. And if I hear you’ve even mentioned his name in that ugly tone again, I promise to come here and destroy this entire shop and everyone in it.”
I release her and push her away from me, causing her to fall to the ground. It’s the sound of her butt hitting the wooden floor that brings me back to my senses.
Slowly, it’s as if a thick red curtain is pulled from in front of my eyes. Glancing around, I realize I’m in the stationery shop and I’ve just cursed at, and assaulted the owner or worker or whatever she is to this place.
She’s a wolf shifter, so I expect her to retaliate. I know shifters are much stronger than humans, but she remains on the floor. The look on her face is one of disbelief as she pants, trying to catch her breath.
Shame invades my body. This is not how I was raised to behave at all. But before I can completely regret my actions, the ugly words she just spouted about Chance come back to me.
I tighten my hands into fists but force myself to take a step back. A good, well-behaved woman would immediately apologize for my actions.
I can’t do that.
I won’t do that.
Instead, I toss the notebook in my hand onto the counter and I back up a few steps before turning and pushing my way out of the door.
Across the street Ms. Elsie and the two other women wait for me outside of the tech store. One of them waves for me to come over.
But I pivot and head in the opposite direction. I pick up my pace until I’m running. The thing is, I don’t even know where I’m going. I just need to run for some reason.
I’m not a runner, not typically. Pilates classes three days a week and swimming laps twice a week is my typical workout routine. It has been four years ever since my mother insisted they were the best form of exercise to keep a slim, lithe figure, which is the most acceptable for a woman.
Ashley is the runner of our family, though. She’s always loved it.
Yet, my legs feel like I’ve been running for years. There’s no ache or heaviness in them. It’s as if I could run for hours.
I don’t want to stop for two reasons. One, because it feels good to be in my body like this. Second, I don’t want to explain to Ms. Elsie and the other women what happened in that stationery store.
I don’t behave like that. I shouldn’t behave like that.