Page 37 of Saved By the Wolf
“Oh my goodness!” I sat up immediately and saw the clock said seven. “It’s not that soon!”
“But now you’re awake and can tell me all about your night.”
“Like I’m going to tell you now,” I grumbled.
“Jill, please. My love life is in shambles. Please let me live through yours.”
I turned to glare at her and said, “It was fun, and you were right. Luc is a fantastic guy.”
“I knew it! No brother of Brandon’s could be bad.”
“No.” I sat up straight as I began to remember our night. “I met his grandmother, Becca, and she’s Taiwanese,” I said, feeling my eyes widen. I wanted her to know how significant that was.
“He introduced you to his grandmother already? And she’s Asian?”
“Yeah!”
Becca sat there looking flummoxed, and I went over and nudged her. “You okay?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, I am,” she whispered. “Brandon has never mentioned his grandparents to me before, or that he’s of mixed heritage. I always just assumed he was white.”
“If he never told you, you would never know. There’s nothing you could have found out.”
“Yeah, I know. I just wish he did.”
“Oh, Becca! You’ll find your Prince Charming someday. He’s out there, I’m sure of it. For someone as good as you, I’d be surprised if he wasn’t right around the corner, and if Brandon can’t deal with that and step up to the plate, then he’s not worth it.”
She looked so dejected that I gave her a big hug. Becca had done so much for me; I hated seeing her miserable. “And it’s not like I’ve found my Prince Charming, either,” I added. “Luc and I have only gone out on one official date.”
She gave me a big eye roll.
“It’s been one date!” I said again firmly.
“You should see the way he looks at you, Jill. I’m wondering why he hasn’t already proposed.”
I felt my face flush. “Oh, be quiet. Look, I have to get ready for work.”
Becca laughed. She jumped out of my bed and gave me a quick salute as she left the room. The whole time, all I could think about was Luc; how he’d smelled and felt last night. We’d ended up dancing the night away, not coming home till well after midnight.
* * *
It was a cold, foggy day with some light rain the next morning. Becca had offered to drive me to work on her way back into the city, but I was so distracted with my thoughts that I couldn’t get ready in time. Plus, a little rain and cold never hurt anyone, so I told her I would walk.
There were usually people bustling around from store to store in town or just sauntering through on their morning walk, but this morning it was quiet. Everyone appeared to be staying indoors, and I was okay with that. I felt like I had the whole world to myself as I daydreamed about my night out with Luc.
I basked in the warm feelings the memories elicited. I hadn’t had so much fun in a long time, not to mention that I’d got to eat beef noodle soup. That was something I hadn’t eaten since Mom passed away, and I’d almost forgotten what it tasted like.
I was jumping over a puddle when a black car pulled up next to me. I didn’t think anything of it until I saw a familiar face exit the back seat. Before I could scream, something was slapped over my mouth, and the next thing I knew it was pitch black and consciousness fled.
* * *
I woke up to darkness and the smell of rotten sewage. I could hear voices in the background, the sound of groaning somewhere near me, and the scuttling of what sounded like rats. A dim light in the distance provided some hope to the oppressive darkness. I reached out in front of me, testing my surroundings, but all I felt was empty air. I moved forward slowly, inching my feet forward one step at a time. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt lightheaded. No, this couldn’t be happening. This was all a dream, right? It had to be. Just a really, really bad dream that I was going to wake up from at any moment. That explained why I could feel nothing in front of me—I was dreaming.
But then my fingers hit what felt like a metal bar. I reached out further, only to find another metal bar two inches from the next metal bar, and the next, and the next . . .
Something hit the bar, which made me startle, and a pain shot through my ankle at the same moment. The sprain from the masquerade ball was still there and seemed worse.
“Sweetheart,” a voice drawled from the other side of the bar. A lamp turned on, and I saw two burly men sitting at a card table, staring right at me not more than ten feet away. “You remember us?”