by Rose, Renee
The nerve of Cole Muchmore. He literally just stole my quiz in front of the whole class and got away with it. He’s fist-bumping his teammates—the other alpha-holes, as Rayne called them.
As if making me a social pariah wasn’t enough, now he’s stealing my work?
I can’t believe I let him get away with it.
What’s wrong with me? Am I so desperate for friends I would sacrifice my education and future just to not piss anyone off? I should have ratted him out. They already hate me. I’ve been a social outcast, party of one for weeks now.
And what in the hell is wrong with all the kids in this school that they think helping the football star cheat is the right thing to do?
Assholes.
I duck my head to hide the tears blurring my vision as I spin my locker combination around. It takes me five spins before I calm down enough to even see the numbers. Three more tries to get it unlocked.
The second the door swings open, it slams shut, a big hand slapping it closed and staying there.
Of course I know exactly who that hand belongs to.
“Thanks for the help, Pink.” Cole crowds against my backside, leaning in close to speak low in my ear, like this is some private, lover’s conversation and not more bullying from the biggest dick in the school.
His voice rumbles deep, reverberating right into secret places it doesn’t belong.
“Fuck you, Cole,” I snap. I don’t usually curse, especially not at school, but this situation really calls for it.
I guess I’m still a chicken, though, because I don’t turn around, not willing to come eye to eye with my tormentor. I press myself even closer to the lockers to keep him from rubbing against me, but he just moves in tighter, and now I have smells and sensations that will haunt me along with his smirking face.
He’s going for intimidation and it’s working, but my body registers it as something altogether different.
Something foreign yet primitively familiar. Biological level, monkey brain shit that makes my downstairs unconscionably wet. Because no way do I find his muscle-brained posturing sexy.
It sucks that he’s Jacon Elordi level hot. Tingles race across the surface of my skin. I look down. Goosebumps. He’s giving me fucking goosebumps just standing too close. I don’t have to look to know my nipples are beading against my favorite polka dot skater dress. I fight the urge to cross my arms over my chest. He doesn’t need to know how he affects me.
He’s big. Strong. His voice is deep. His scent is cedarwood soap and masculine goodness. And his cocky bullshit does something squirmy to my core.
“Here.” His other hand appears in front of my face. Not the one still holding my locker closed effectively caging me in, but one on the other side of my head. He’s holding a piece of cinnamon Trident out to me.
“Really?” I snatch the gum and whirl around, too pissed now to avoid a face-to-face confrontation. “A stick of gum?” I hold it between our noses, cursing my hand for shaking. “Is this the going rate for taking someone’s quiz for them around here?”
Cole’s fiery brown gaze burns through me. I see the hatred in his eyes before he blinks and pretends he doesn’t give a shit. He shifts to lean a shoulder against my locker. “Well, you know, that’s all I can afford… seeing as how your mom stole my dad’s job and all.”
All the noise in my head quiets. My stomach drops out and I lose my breath. “What?”
“Yeah. I guess she’s a real big shot, huh? Your mom? All the way from Coors Brewery in Colorado.” He shrugs. “My dad couldn’t compete with that.”
My knees quake. Mouth opens and closes like an empty PEZ dispenser, but I can’t figure out the appropriate response.
It doesn’t matter. Cole’s already pushed off and sauntered away, the crowd parting to allow its king to pass.
He thinks my mom took his dad’s job?
That’s why Cole and Casey Muchmore hate me? That’s why I’ve been the social outcast here for the past eight weeks. Why I can smile and say “hi” to kids in the hallways, in the bathrooms, and not even a freshman will so much as give me a head nod.
I had no idea it was personal.
Understanding should bring relief, but it just brings a hollow ache to the pit of my stomach. Unless Cole and Casey Muchmore’s alcoholic, waste of space dad gets another job, I’m public enemy number one.
And it’s not my fault. It’s not even my mom’s fault.
She was hired in after Wolf Ridge Brewery had a major kerfuffle with the FDA and got shut down. And yeah, my mom said things were a total mess when she got here. Like the checks weren’t in place to prevent contamination disasters. That means Cole and Casey’s dad sucked at his job, and it’s no wonder he lost it.
I can see why us moving in next door would be like rubbing salt in a wound, but my mom didn’t steal his dad’s job. And even if she did, how in his twisted, Neanderthal brain am I to blame for his life turning shitty?
I know quite a bit about life suddenly turning shitty. You don’t see me screwing over strangers in revenge.
Fingers shaking, I work the combination on my locker once again and pull out my backpack and head to lunch, my most dreaded period of the day. The time when I try to find a place alone to sit and do my homework as I eat a sandwich.
“So you took the alpha-hole’s quiz for him, huh?”
I whirl to find Rayne, standing there. Her friendly face is such a balm to my raw emotions, I want to throw my arms around her and squeeze. I hold back though. I don’t want to scare my only friend off with my desperation for human contact.
“News travels that fast?”
“Yep. That’s Wolf Ridge for you. Takes about five minutes for the latest news to go around. Especially when it concerns our star quarterback.”
“Is football that big a deal? I don’t get it.”
She shrugs, falling into step with me. “Wolf Ridge takes state in almost every sport. We’re renowned. But Cole is special—he’s entertainment on the field. Kinda toys with the other team. Like a cat with a mouse. It’s legendary. So if he got benched for bad grades this week, everyone would’ve mourned. I know you had no choice, but you just became an unsung hero.”
“I just became the laughing stock of the school and a target for every bully.”
“Nah, just Cole.”
“So do you have to be good at sports to be popular?”
“Yep.” She sweeps her hands down her body with a giant rueful smile. “Guess you know why I won’t get crowned homecoming queen.”
I have the insane urge to steal the homecoming crown before it’s given out this weekend just to give it to Rayne. And that thought makes me smile.
She elbows me. “It’s not that funny.”
My smile grows bigger. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. Just thinking how fun it would be to throw the contest.”
She grins back. She leads me to the far side of the school, where there’s a little patch of trees I hadn’t seen before. “This is where I like to hide during lunch.” She sinks down with her back against one of the trees.
I drop to join her. “This is way better than the places I’ve tried.” It’s true. She found the one tiny patch of real nature on campus where the air is somehow easier to breathe.
“So Cole thinks my mom stole his dad’s job,” I blurt, unable to keep my mind off it.
Rayne raises her brows. “You didn’t know that?”
I sigh. Okay, Wolf Ridge is that small and interconnected. “I thought everyone hated me because I’m Hispanic.”
She spits out her juice laughing. “That’s hilarious.”
“Well, it is pretty homogenous here. And I don’t fit the bill. You should see the way Cole’s dad stares out the window at us. I swear to God, I thought he or one of the other neighbors were going to call ICE on us, hoping we’d get picked up in the night just because our last name is Sanchez.”
Rayne laughs so hard tears leak from the corners of her eyes. “No.” She wipes at the moisture. �
��It’s not racism you’re combating here.”
The way she draws out racism makes me think there’s something else. Something besides my mom taking Cole’s job, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what that would be.
She tucks a wild tuft of white-blonde hair behind her ear, and I see the flash of a blue tattoo on the inside of her wrist. “What is that?” I ask, pointing to it.
She holds it out to show me a tiny paw print.
“Very sweet. Is it to remember a dog?”
“It’s a wolf print, actually.”
“Are wolves special to you?”
She quickly tucks it away and ducks her head. “No. Just for Wolf Ridge. It’s stupid.” She blushes furiously. “I wish I’d never gotten it, but it’s too late now.”
“I like it.” An idea takes hold, one that gets me excited for the first time in months. A way to memorialize Catrina. “I want to get one. Did you get it here in town?”
“Yep. At Wolf’s Paw Tattoo.”
“Oh my God. Is that why you got a wolf’s paw? Is it free if you become a walking advertisement for them?”
Rayne laughs. “No, but I guess that’s where I got the idea, yeah. But you have to be eighteen or have parental consent.”
“Well, it just so happens that my birthday is tomorrow.” I grin. “Want to come with me?”
She lights up. “Definitely. What are you going to get inked?”
I swallow back the sudden lump in my throat. I guess I’m still not okay talking about it. Instead I shrug and go for mystery. “You’ll see.”
* * *
Cole
“Seriously, I can’t believe you made the human take your quiz for you.” Wilde, our team captain, punches my shoulder in the locker room after showers. “That was so Gucci.”
“Shut up with the Gucci thing, dude,” Bo says. “You wouldn’t know Gucci from Fruit of the Loom, asshole.”
There’s a chorus of snorts from the underclassmen, evidence of their continuous suck-up.
“Yeah, I figure Bailey Sanchez owes me a lot more than a passing grade on a pop quiz,” I say.
Austin makes a dissenting sound beside me.
“What?” I demand.
He shrugs but looks away, acknowledging I’m alpha of this team and our group of friends, even if I’m not captain. Even if I’m not the biggest.
I’m definitely the meanest, and everyone knows it.
“Why is she even here?” Bo asks. “Brewery HR should’ve encouraged her mom to send her to Cave Hills with the rest of the humans.”
I shake my head, the misery of the past few months washing over me. My dad’s increased drinking. The way he picks fights with me and Casey. The progressive spiral of shit-tasticness. Things were bad before Bailey Sanchez arrived, but her moving in next door made them infinitely worse.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to make her sorry for it.”
“I don’t know, I think she’s kind of hot,” Slade leers.
“Shut up, Slade,” Austin warns. Slade’s the oblivious one in our group. He’s somehow missed that despite my intense dislike for Bailey, I also have a thing for her.
He goes on, though, oblivious to the warning, too. “Nice tits and those little dresses. And those big eyes make her look just like a little Mexican doll—”
“Don’t talk about her tits.” I whirl and headbutt his face. There’s a loud crunch of cartilage and bone.
He covers his nose. “Aw, fuck!”
Wilde and Bo jump between us in case there’s more. Coach Jamison has a strict no fighting rule—one I’ve had a hard time with this year.
Like father, like son, I guess.
I lean to the left to look around Wilde’s bulky frame and point a finger at Slade. “Don’t mention her again. She’s mine.”
“What?” Slade still doesn’t follow. “I thought you hated her.”
“She’s mine,” I repeat firmly. “Mine to torment, and I’m going to enjoy the fuck out of it.”
All four of my friends shake their heads like they’re sorry for me.
“That’s fucked up, dude,” Austin says.
Slade finally realized he needs to keep his mouth shut. He shrugs and clicks the bones of his nose back in place. It will be healed by tomorrow; that’s the glory of being a shifter.
“Speaking of HILFs”—humans I’d like to fuck—“you should see this chick from Cave Hills who showed up at the body shop yesterday.” Bo whistles low, clearly trying to diffuse the tension. “Bangin’ body with the attitude to match. She’s trouble, though. I think the car she brought in to get painted was hot.”
“Wait…” Slade says, finally coming up to speed and ignoring Bo’s far more interesting opener. “So you do want to fuck Bailey?”
It’s a simple question. I’m not sure why the answer seems so complicated.
When I don’t answer, Bo pipes in, “Why don’t you just bone her if she’s under your skin so bad? Get it out of your system.”
Is that what I need? To hate-fuck the girl next door until she’s out of my system?
Truth is, I never jacked off thinking about a human female. That is, until Bailey and her nerdy-hot body showed up.
She’s got curves in all the right places, and that wide pink streak of hair she has does something to me. She acts like the straight A’s goodie goodie, but that streak tells me she’s a rebel at heart.
And Slade is right. The big dark eyes against smooth pale skin does make her look like a doll. A doll I want to do bad things to.
Maybe getting my hands on that juicy body of hers would be the cure for this shit. I can put her in her place while we both enjoy it.
I don’t need her to move away; I need to get her beneath me. Need to hear her beg. Need her on her knees, mouth stuffed with my cock. Or tied up, face-down on my bed. Maybe on her back, my hand around her throat as I bang into that tight little cunt.
I guarantee she’s a virgin.
She’s way too perfect good-girl not to be.
Hmm. Ruining the daughter might be the perfect punishment for the human who took my dad’s self-respect.
It’s not a bad plan. I adjust my cock as the thought takes root and starts to spin.
“Hello? Cole?” Wilde waves a hand in front of my eyes. I guess I’ve been staring off.
“He’s already boning her in his mind,” Bo snorts.
“Yeah.” I push my shoulder off the lockers. “I’m definitely planning on it.”
“Just make it legal, dude, or Alpha Green will have your nuts. You know the rules,” Austin warns.
Bile hits my throat. “Are you suggesting I’d rape her?” Anger makes my vision dome, my wolf showing his colors. I may be a dick, but do my own friends think I’d actually stoop that low?
There’s no fucking way I stand for rape. Not ever. I have a little sister. I’d kill any fucker who forced himself on her. On any girl in this school. I may hate the girl, but shit. Wolves are protective by nature and there’s a code of honor even I wouldn’t ever stray from.
Austin takes a step back. So does Wilde. Bo jumps up off the bench and gives me wide berth, too.
“Whoa, sorry. Good. I just wanted to be sure.” Austin has his hands up.
I turn away and yank my clothes on, still pissed.
“I’m sorry, dude. I definitely didn’t mean—” Austin tries.
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Yeah, okay. Fucking off. I’m still your best friend.”
I flip him the bird over my shoulder. I know, very mature.
But calling BFF when we’re seniors in high school is pretty juvenile, too. It’s true. Austin’s been my partner in crime since we were pups and our moms taught at the elementary school together. And really, what he’s saying is that he still has my back. No matter how dickish I get.
They all do. Because they know what’s going down at my house.
And that’s the only redeeming thing about pack living.
I grab my bag and head outside.
/> Casey’s waiting for me, even though her practice is over an hour before mine. As a sophomore, my little sister is already star of the volleyball team, leading the school to what will be another state championship.
No cheerleader whores in this family, my dad likes to say. Which is a dig at our mom, who was cheer captain back when he was Wolf Ridge’s defense star.
Casey climbs into the cab of the truck and slumps back, staring out the window. I start the truck and drive. We don’t speak. We hardly acknowledge each other. This is our routine.
Casey could have caught a ride with any one of her friends. She doesn’t have to wait for me to drive her home. But she does. And it’s not because she wants to spend extra time with her big bro. Or because she just really likes to hang out after practice.
It’s because she doesn’t want to go home without me there to protect her.
Chapter 3
Bailey
Getting a tattoo on the inside of my wrist hurts more than I expected. The artwork is exquisite: the iconic “Catrina” Day of the Dead skull is coming out exactly how I drew it, only better, because now it’s forever inked on my body. Catrina’s name is on a little banner below it.
But the pain. Holy crap. It’s all I can do not to tear up while the guy works over my wrist, and my whole body’s trembly and weak.
But it will be worth it. I needed to do something to memorialize her, and I hadn’t figured out what until I saw Rayne’s little paw print.
I sit in a chair in the front window of the little tattoo parlor. I guess they like to show their clients off to the world. Like I don’t already feel like I’m living in a fishbowl in Wolf Ridge. Rayne lounges in another chair beside me, looking up funny YouTube videos to show me.
“Check this one out, it’s the Google translated version of Billie Eilish’s Bad Guy.” She shoves her phone under my nose and I watch the parody, snorting at the badly interpreted lyrics like “I’m a baaaaad cat.”
I smile through a wince. “I think I need something funnier.”
“It really hurts you, huh?” Rayne eyes me with more curiosity than sympathy, which annoys me since I’m sweating from the pain.
