by Rose, Renee
Shock ripples through me.
Disgust.
Heat.
Crows of encouragement pepper the air from the other boys around, their jeers making Adriana bolder.
I don’t want to watch—I don’t. Rayne tugs at my arm, but I’m glued to the dirt, unable to look away.
My nipples pucker, pussy flutters.
I shouldn’t find this debasement hot.
He’s cruel with her, still holding her hair, a sneer curling his lips.
The crowd catches on that it’s about me. That his gaze is on me.
Adriana’s friends call to her. Cole’s start muttering.
Adriana looks up at him, sees his focus and whips around to look at me. Outrage flames across her face.
Cole releases her hair and she falls to the dirt on her butt. He chuckles, still watching me, and grabs his junk.
I shake my head.
For some reason, my heart pounds in my chest like I just ran a lap around the football field.
“Bailey, come on,” Rayne urges, pulling harder. “Don’t let him screw with your head.”
Adriana scrambles to her feet and shoves Cole, hard. He just smirks. When she whirls on me, I realize I should’ve taken off when I had the chance.
Especially considering the warning Rayne already gave me about her.
Cole catches her arm, though, causing her to rubberband back at him. He says something to her that sounds a lot like, “Leave it. She’s mine.”
My feet come unglued.
Rayne and I take off running toward the street, away from all the party and mayhem.
Away from Cole Muchmore and the alpha-hole football heroes.
Away from his words.
Away from his claim on me.
She’s mine.
He’s wrong. All wrong.
But no matter how fast I run, no matter how far I go, his words still chase me. The image of his face still taunts me. And when I close my eyes to go to sleep tonight, I know it will be my hair he’s tangling in his fist. Not Adrianna’s. It’ll be me kneeling before him. Not her. Me.
* * *
Cole
“Leave it. She’s mine.”
Adriana splutters in my face, fire sparking in her eyes. It occurs to me that Bailey could be in real danger, the kind a human wouldn’t recover from quickly.
The kind that could leave permanent scars and necessitate a trip to the ER.
“You’ll leave the human the fuck alone.”
Adrianna gapes in outrage when I infuse my words with alpha command.
“You’re defending it, now?” She refers to Bailey as an it, like being a human is less than nothing. Everyone is fucking watching us. Listening. Waiting to hear my reply.
I want to tell them all Bailey is under my protection. I may be hellbent on getting under Bailey’s skin, but I’m not going to set her up to get attacked. And that’s the only reason I feel this fierce, almost violent urge to protect her right now. But if I admit she’s under my protection, everyone will think I like her. It’s bad enough my best friends and teammates know I want to bone down with the human. I don’t need the whole school thinking I caught feeling.
“No, I just don’t think she’s worth getting called before Alpha Greene and the council for.”
“And that’s the only reason?”
“Of course, babe,” I murmur in a conspiratorial tone. “You really think I want some bitch, when I can have you? The Queen of Wolf Ridge High.”
That catches her attention.
I pull her face a little closer to mine. “Thanks for helping me fuck with the human. Did you see her expression?” I don’t know why it sickens me slightly to share my genuine satisfaction with Adriana, but it does.
Whatever. It works. A slow smile splits Adriana’s cheeks. “I did.” She drags the last word out, trailing her fingertip over my collarbone.
I grit my teeth and reward her with a kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy for everyone to see.
I’m a cold bastard to use Adriana, but she’s the one who was using me first. Just because we both got crowned royalty—ridiculous—doesn’t mean we’re going to rekindle the old flame.
And it’s not like there was a real flame to begin with. I always consider her a dodged bullet. We hooked up once at a party up on the mesa. There was liquor involved which doesn’t impair shifters as much as humans, except when the moon is full.
The moon was full.
Our hormones were raging.
Kids were shifting and running and getting naked all over the place. We went all the way.
Dangerous territory for shifter teens. There’s a reason young males are subtly encouraged to sow their wild oats away from the pack, with humans.
For one thing, no kid is alpha enough to think he can face the angry daddy wolf and not suffer serious permanent consequences. Fathers are hella protective of their baby girls in this town. And fate forbid you get a girl pregnant. You can kiss any hope of finding your one true mate goodbye. You will be bound to that girl for the rest of your life, whether either of you want it or not.
That’s what happened to my parents. At least the way my mom told it to me before she abandoned us.
So yeah. I didn’t sleep for a month after it happened until Adriana told me we were in the clear.
And I’ve had nothing to do with her since.
I know she doesn’t give a shit about me, either; she was just putting on a show to raise her status even more after the crowning.
Which is why I used her to get a rise out of Pink.
And pinken she did. A pretty rose color that lit up her pale cheeks and made those dark eyes brighter. I bet if I was close enough, I would’ve smelled that same sweet arousal she leaked when she was sitting in the chair at the tattoo parlor.
I want to get rough with her.
This isn’t the cold dish of revenge some adversaries prefer.
No, there’s a blazing hot undercurrent that runs through every interaction I have with that girl.
Seeing her blush—punishing her through humiliation and her own desire—gets me hard.
And I have no plans of backing off, because I haven’t felt any kind of pleasure at all in a long time.
Since before my dad lost his job.
Before he started drinking.
After… After my mom left and my dad took consolation in a bottle. After my family slowly fell apart, the pain was like a sharp knife turning in my heart. Any way I moved, any action I took, thought I followed, I still felt it.
But this heat Pink produces in me? It flushes away some of the pain. Dulls it. No—transmutes it.
Rage and rebellion still simmer, but every time I get close to her, it’s like the excitement of a full moon. The promise of something dark and satisfying if I follow my urge to punish her by claiming her fully.
Because she’s human and there’s a natural imbalance of power—even if she doesn’t know it—I get wickedly high knowing how easy it will be to dominate her.
“Hey, kids,” Bo’s older brother Winslow strolls up with a couple of his buddies. He’s an alum of Wolf Ridge, graduated a couple years ago and works at his uncle’s body shop, where Bo and I work on weekends.
He’s a dick.
Still wishes he was in high school. He’s in full swagger mode, carrying a six-pack of beer in each hand. “Not a bad game, but you could’ve played down the first half a little more.” He tucks one six-pack under his arm and starts breaking the cans off the rings and tossing them to the football players.
Because we play against humans, half the art for us is making our wins look natural. Losing a little so when we show off, it looks like some spectacular come back. Or freak luck.
It’s stupid, but entertains the whole town. Shifters are physical creatures. Physical prowess is glorified here. Physical aggression respected. Physical punishment is the norm. You offend someone, you’ll probably get hurt. Which is no big deal, because we heal overnight.
Still, Winslow and hi
s buddies are dangerous, especially when they’ve been drinking, and we all shift around, keeping gazes lowered and murmuring our agreement in case they came here spoiling for a fight.
“Now where are those cheerleaders?” Winslow’s buddy Ben asks. He’s definitely drunk. He tosses Adriana over his shoulder.
Fuck.
“Oh yeah, I’ll take two,” Winslow chortles and grabs the two girls nearest him and throws one over each shoulder.
The girls scream and kick. I hear some giggling. But Adriana looks like she’s really fighting. Maybe Marcy is, too, I can’t be sure.
Bo and I exchange an uneasy glance.
We can’t directly challenge these assholes. They are bigger and stronger than we are. Plus, they think they’re hot shit because they’re older, so any confrontation will be taken as a vie for a change in pack order, which will bring out violent instincts. Not a good mix when drinking’s involved.
“Hey, Ben, did you catch that Sun Devil game last week?”
He whirls to face me, making Adriana scream. She’s kicking hard and punching at his kidneys, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, what about it?”
I’m thinking fast, trying to remember anything at all interesting about the ASU game. “That Gary Jones shows promise, don’t you think?”
It works.
Ben drops Adriana on her feet to face me. “Gary Jones? Are you kidding? The asshole doesn’t have a scrap of talent.”
Adriana glares furiously at his back as he launches into his explanation of who on the team is worth watching.
After a few seconds Winslow loses interest in the girls he picked up, too, and unceremoniously dumps them to join in the conversation.
Bo steps in to close the ranks and solidify the sports talk.
The rest of the group disperses, trying not to make it too obvious they’re getting away to find a better—and more private—place to party.
Bo and I stay and keep the conversation going, taking one for the team.
I shake my head. Same story different night.
Fucking pack living.
Chapter 4
Bailey
Journalism class—the one where I sit beside Cole—becomes the source of all kinds of anxiety and anticipation over the next week. It used to be my favorite. I don’t know, maybe it still is. Mr. Brumgard likes me. He makes a special effort to engage with me. I’d like to think it’s because of my interest in the subject and because I’m a great student, not because he pities me. Not because he sees how left out I am at this school, how ostracized.
Now, though, I think about the class all day, get cold sweats before I go in, and flutters every time I see Cole out of the corner of my eye.
I never look at him directly.
I don’t want to invite more attention.
Except, that’s not true, because I have all kinds of fantasies of having a normal conversation with him. Or of him showing interest.
And he does.
Show interest.
I feel his searing stares all period long, but he has yet to say anything or initiate any conversation.
Today is no different. His long legs fill the aisle between us, jutting toward me and my desk, crossed casually at the ankles. I have no doubt the infringement on my space is deliberate. I try not to stare at the size of his shoes, but damn. They’re huge. He’s already six feet tall and I’ll bet he’s not done growing.
He rocks his foot back and forth like he knows I’m looking at it.
“I hope you all took a look at the assigned reading.” Brumgard passes papers out, face down.
The class groans, recognizing the cues for another pop quiz.
I did the reading, so I’m not worried, but I can’t help but dart a glance at Cole.
Big mistake. He’s staring at me with those fathomless dark eyes.
Just staring. I can’t read anything in his expression.
Then he lifts his chin just slightly.
A question.
I shake my head.
The corner of one lip curls up, like he’s amused by my defiance. Like he knows I’m going to cave and help him anyway.
I look back to the front of the room, still shaking my head.
“You may begin,” Brumgard says.
I flip my test over, this time writing my name in the blank line on the top first. Can’t fool me twice.
The answers are easy if you read the material, and I finish in less than a minute.
And then I doodle on my page.
Stare at the blemishes on my desk. The ink stains, the carved letters, the scratches.
I look up at Brumgard, who is pacing around the room. I don’t know why he doesn’t just sit at his desk where he can see the whole class at the same time. It’s like he’s inviting people to cheat.
Dammit, I give in and glance at Cole.
He flicks his brows.
My heart beats faster. But then my pulse has been elevated from the moment I tangled in his gaze.
Don’t do it.
Do not do it.
Keeping my eyes on Brumgard’s back, I tip my exam up and angle it so Cole can see the answers.
Seriously, I must’ve taken stupid pills this morning. What am I doing? Am I so desperate for Cole to not hate me that I’m willing to screw up my future? Screw up with the teacher who likes me best at this school?
Nausea rolls through me and the paper trembles. Which means Cole can see how badly my hand’s shaking.
Damn him.
No, damn me. I’m choosing to risk my grade, my reputation, the recommendations I plan to ask for. All for a chance to get sneered at again by the alpha-hole next door.
Ridiculous.
Brumgard calls time and collects the tests. I manage not to look over at Cole. It’s a minute-by-minute test, but I make the entire rest of the class without giving in to the urge.
After class, I wait by Mr. Brumgard’s desk with the folder of recommendation forms. “Mr. Brumgard?”
He glances at the folder in my hand and reaches for it with a smile.
“Hi. These are recommendation forms. For college?”
He nods, his eyes crinkling with warmth. “I’d be happy to write a recommendation for you, Bailey. And listen, I’ve been thinking—about the student newspaper.”
There’s no school newspaper at Wolf Ridge High. I approached Mr. Brumgard at the beginning of the year to ask if he’d be willing to lead one as a club but he said no one would join—the only after-school thing kids at WRH cared about was sports.
I’m distinctly aware of the fact that Cole is also still in the classroom, ostensibly tying his shoe. I have a feeling he’s actually making sure I’m not telling on him about the quiz.
“Yes?”
“Are you still interested?”
I perk up. This is the first bone anyone at WRH has thrown me. “Totally.”
“I can assign stories in class as part of the coursework. And you could work with me after school putting it together. How does that sound?”
“I’d love to,” I breathe, excited about schoolwork for the first time since I came to Wolf Ridge. Finally a challenge. Something to work for.
“Great. Come by after school today and we can start planning it.”
“Today? Oh, yeah. Okay, that works.”
I have no idea how I will get home after the bus leaves, but I’m sure I can figure it out. This is important.
I turn around, only to bump straight into Cole loitering behind me.
“Do you need something, Cole?” Brumgard asks.
“Yeah, I need to talk to you about extra credit. You know, to bring my grade up for—”
“For the game Saturday?” Brumgard gives a long-suffering sigh.
I leave before I hear the rest of the conversation, but I can guarantee Cole wasn’t worried about his grade; he was making sure I didn’t rat on him.
And I probably should have.
I don’t know why I want to be on Team Cole when he is so set on being
against Team Bailey.
I rub the tattoo on the inside of my wrist. Somehow, this is all tied into tragedy. My guilt for Catrina warped into a need to atone with Cole. It’s illogical, but I’ve yet to have a logical, coinciding thought and feeling when it comes to Cole Muchmore.
* * *
Bailey
Mr. Brumgard is in his classroom after school. He greets me with a smile. “Hi, Bailey, come on in.” He pulls out a chair beside him, behind the desk. “Have a seat.”
I sit down, fighting the awkwardness of working directly with an adult. I’m excited about this project, but nervous, too.
Mr. Brumgard smiles at me. “I’m glad you’re interested in a student newspaper, Bailey. I think it’s a great idea.”
I suck my lower lip between my teeth and nod.
“The culture at Wolf Ridge is strange, as you’ve probably noticed. A lot of emphasis is on sports, and not much on anything academic. You’re one of the very few students interested in even applying for college. While the graduation rate is decent here, the number of students who continue their studies is less than ten percent. No one leaves Wolf Ridge.”
“Yeah, I’ve definitely noticed. My mom’s friends at work all told her I should go to Cave Hills instead, but I don’t drive, so it’s too far.”
Brumgard studies me. “Yes, Cave Hills would’ve been a much better choice for you. Although on the upside, you’re probably a shoe-in for valedictorian here. First quarter grades have you at the very top of the senior class.”
Pleasure floods my chest. I know it’s geeky, but achievement has always been my thing. My mom says I get it from my dad, who died in Afghanistan when I was a baby, but I think it’s just as much from her. I was raised to work hard and earn the accolades. I know for most kid that sounds like the opposite of fun, but for me, it’s everything.
Brumgard touches my shoulder. I ignore the creeping tingles it gives me. “I can see you’re having a hard time fitting in, Bailey. I want you to know that my door is always open if you need a friend.”
