by Rose, Renee
He’d better sweat it.
He’d better sweat me for the rest of his goddamn life.
Fucking pervert.
Austin nudges me and lifts his chin toward Pink’s empty chair. “Where’s the human?” He mouths the last word, even though most students at Wolf Ridge are pack. There are some unsuspecting humans who go here—probably less than twenty percent, and all socially marginalized like Bailey. For faculty, we’re not quite so homogenous. More than half of them are human. Alpha Green thinks it’s important for integration that we learn to blend into the American culture without humans knowing what we are.
I scowl because I’m not going to tell him where Bailey is, and also, I’m still pissed about the reason for her absence.
He raises his brows.
I force my scowl away and shrug my shoulders like I don’t give a shit.
I doubt I succeed, especially since Austin knows me better than anyone, but Bailey’s story isn’t mine to tell.
I think about Pink. What I know about her now. The scent of her tears. The taste of her skin. The way her ass feels in my hands.
She gave me her vulnerability yesterday.
Robbed me of mine.
I want to still hate her. Especially after what she witnessed in front of my house.
But I don’t.
We’re in this together now. We’ve shared each other’s nightmares.
And when I took from her, she gave.
Let me kiss those swollen lips. Let me dry fuck her against a wall.
I woke up this morning thinking I needed space. Get this human off my mind before she gets even further under my skin.
I planned on pretending she didn’t exist when I saw her today. Reasoned she probably needed the space, too.
But it didn’t last. The minute I saw her, I tumbled back to where we were last night, standing between our houses under the moon.
And now I’m already itchy for more.
I need to finish this thing I started with her.
I can’t stop until I fully own Bailey Sanchez. Until she’s given me every secret, every lie, every tear. I crave the moment I take everything from her.
Crave it like my next breath.
* * *
Bailey
After school I hang by my locker. It’s stupid, I’m going to miss the bus if I don’t hurry, but I want to see Cole. Want to talk to him again. Find out what happened in journalism class. Tell him what I decided.
I wait until I’m going to have to run to catch the bus, and then I give up, shut my locker and head down the emptying halls. When I round the bend into the junior and sophomore hallway, my steps falter.
Casey Muchmore is at her locker with a group of friends and when she sees me, she looks like she wants to draw blood. She says something to her friends and leaves them, walking right toward me. The friends stay at the lockers, but watch in sick fascination.
I tell myself not to be afraid of an underclassman, but it doesn’t work. After the way Rayne was really scared Adriana would hurt me, I’m not sure what to expect from the girls at Wolf Ridge. Sounds like they’re as likely to get into fights as the boys, which scares the crap out of me.
I want to pretend I don’t see her and walk on by, but it’s not the right thing to do. I saw something ugly in her family last night, and if she’s pissed, it’s probably partially because she’s ashamed of what I saw. So I’m not going to blow her off, as much as I’d like to.
Turns out I couldn’t have anyway. She plants her body directly in my path so I have to stop. Her posture is aggressive: hands on her hips, chin up, jaw set.
“I’m sorry if I caused a problem,” I say immediately, even though it’s not my fault their dad is an abusive asshole.
Her nostrils flare. “You did,” she says. “You stay away from my brother or I’m going to kick your ass. He hates you, anyway.”
She aimed to hurt and she succeeds. Whether it’s one hundred percent true, or only partially true—her barb pierces because I know she’s right.
Cole does hate me.
There was violence in his kisses last night. Pent up anger, blame, resentment.
But they were still kisses.
Kisses that incited a wildfire inside me. That kept me up all night touching myself, trying to get relief from the pulsing in my core.
And I didn’t sleep before we met outside his window, either. I crawled into bed with my mom when she got home, and I told her about Cole and we both had a long cry over the situation next door.
I didn’t tell her about Brumgard. I’m still not ready to open that subject with anyone but Cole.
Casey’s gaze shifts from my face to the end of the hallway behind me and she grimaces.
I turn to see Cole and his buddies gathered, Cole staring down the hall at us.
Casey points a finger in my face. “I’m serious. You stay away.” She starts backing up.
“Stay out of it, Case.” Cole’s voice is low and his tread silent as he approaches us without his friends.
Casey stops her retreat and squares off to him.
“Pink is my problem, not yours.”
His problem.
I have the urge to just walk away. Escape this conversation about me between the siblings. Leave before the knife twists deeper.
But my feet don’t obey my brain. They stay planted right where they are. Needing to be near Cole.
“Interfere and I’ll make you sorry, little sister,” Cole warns.
I am somewhat relieved to see that despite the threat, she doesn’t appear afraid. Their dad may be abusive, but the siblings must be tight. Casey just watches him like she’s trying to decipher his intentions.
Or maybe that’s just my projection, since I’m somewhat desperate to know them, myself.
After a few beats, she shakes her head like she’s disgusted with both of us and walks away.
Cole catches her arm and rubberbands her back. “Leave it, Case. Stay out of my business.”
She shoots a glance in my direction, then back at Cole. “It affects both of us,” she says tightly.
My gut twists. She’s right. If Cole spending time with me enrages their father, it would affect both kids.
Cole shakes his head. “Nothing else will happen. Now leave it.”
Her face colors slightly. “Fine.” She turns and flounces off, back to her friends while I stand there with my own cheeks burning.
“I told Brumgard not to mark you absent,” Cole murmurs as soon as she’s gone. “Everything’s cool.”
My relief is not around being marked absent or present, it’s knowing Cole still has my back. My shoulders relax. I tuck my hair behind one ear and duck my head, suddenly shy. “Thank you.”
But of course, Cole can’t ever just be kind. “I don’t want your thanks,” he sneers, pinching my chin to lift it.
I flinch under his dark gaze.
The hatred is still there.
I don’t know why my core tightens and my toes curl when he looks at me like that. There must be something wrong with me. Why would a girl get turned on by a hate-glare?
He pulls his phone out of his back pocket and thrusts it at me. It’s an old model and the screen is broken. “Text yourself,” he commands.
I’m not dumb enough this time to get excited. He wants my number—so what? It might just be to communicate about Brumgard so he doesn’t have to stop and talk to me in person again.
I text myself the word “text” because I can’t think of anything clever and hand the phone back.
I turn to go but he grabs my arm, just like he did his sister’s. “Hey.”
I turn to face him with my own glare this time.
His brow furrows and he lowers his face to mine. “Don’t ever come out of your house when my dad is there,” he orders. “Don’t let him see you. Got it?”
My stomach churns and all the angst over he-likes-me, he-likes-me-not evaporates. This is so much bigger than teenage drama. Cole lives a nightmare every day.
“I don’t care what you hear, you stay inside,” he warns.
I can’t help it. Tears pop into my eyes.
“Don’t,” he snarls. He slams his fist into the lockers behind my head, denting them. “Don’t fucking cry for me.”
I drop my eyes because I’m crying more now and the tears freefall to my Day of the Dead skull Chucks.
And then it happens again. His hands are on my ass and my nape, his lips are over mine. It’s punishment.
Reward.
Connection.
I don’t know what it is, but I want every bit of it as badly as he does. His lips tear over mine, palm squeezes my ass hard enough to leave fingermarks. His other hand controls my head, holding it for the onslaught of lips and tongue, lifting my face toward him.
My whole body trembles for him.
I have no sense of time, but it goes on for an eternity. The blink of an eye. I don’t know.
Then he suddenly pulls away, releases all of me and steps back. A moment later, a teacher rounds the bend and stops, hands on her prim hips, “Aren’t you supposed to be at practice, Cole?”
Did he hear her coming? That doesn’t make sense. But he cocks his head like he’s listening to something and then he grins. “You missed your bus, Pink. Looks like you’ll have to walk.”
Asshole.
Is he taunting me? Did he do that on purpose? Make me think he likes me, make me tremble for him, just to make my life hell?
I scowl and turn on my heel, hurrying down the hallway to hide my flaming face.
“Pink.”
I don’t stop.
“I want you at my game Friday.”
I hold up my hand with my middle finger extended, still not stopping or looking back.
I hear his chuckle as I exit the building.
Fuck him. I’m sure he plans to humiliate me in some new way. I would be stupid to comply.
* * *
Cole
I saunter down the hall, past Ms. Eller, the French teacher and a member of the pack. I couldn’t let her catch me kissing Pink. She’d probably tell Alpha Green I’m screwing around with a human. Or maybe she was trying to save Pink from my torment. That’s a good possibility too. I’m not known for my kindness around here.
I didn’t mean to kiss Bailey again. But those tears. I don’t know what it is. The fact that this little slip of a human sheds tears for me—the guy who’s been nothing but an asshole to her. It does something to me.
She tasted like strawberries and melon today. And her sweet honey and cookies scent, which for some reason, my wolf is coming to love.
It’s on me now—on my palms, on my face. The front of my shirt from when I pressed up against her. I bring my palm to my nose and inhale deeply.
Pleasure rushes through me.
Pleasure and need. I sprouted a chub the moment I touched her and my cock aches now for release. And it’s not like I have time to beat one off in the locker bathroom before practice. I’m already late enough that Coach is going to make me run laps.
In the locker room, I yank off my t-shirt and bring it to my nose. Fuck it smells good. I shove the shirt down in my bag to jack off with later.
Maybe Bailey will leave her shade open while she changes tonight. I caught a glimpse of her boobs once when she first moved in. She came in from the bathroom in a towel and let it drop before she realized the shades were open. I laughed my ass off as she dived for the shades with one hand trying to cover those pert little nipples.
Maybe I’ll order her to leave it open and see if she complies. She just might. I felt the way she trembled when I kissed her. She opened to me again, like she’s been waiting for me to claim her. Even though she knows I’m the worst thing for her.
I’m her weakness.
Just like she’s mine.
Chapter 8
Bailey
“I think we need a gossip column.” Rayne taps her pen against the glass of my kitchen table.
I haven’t told her what happened. It’s not that I don’t think she’d give me the support of a friend, it’s more that I don’t have my own head wrapped around it. And Cole’s story is tied up with mine and it doesn’t feel right sharing that part of it.
I did tell her I’m going to start a school newspaper and offered her an editor position, which she accepted.
Hence, the big editorial meeting at my house after school.
We haven’t come up with any good ideas, but I don’t mind. It’s nice to have company.
It’s been a long time.
“This town definitely doesn’t need any more gossip. But we could do feature articles. Highlight some of the less popular, lesser-known students and their talents.”
Rayne’s mouth falls open like I said something shocking. “Wow. We could do that?”
“Why not? Everyone probably already knows everything about Adriana, the sweet, cuddly homecoming queen who wants to kill me.” Rayne laughs. “But do they know… I don’t know, about some secret talent of some shy girl no one talks to?”
A scheming glow comes over Rayne’s face. “I want to write these. I know exactly who to highlight.”
“You do?”
“Yep. And I’m starting with you. There are a lot of kids like you who people sort of refuse to get to know.”
“Kids like me?” I don’t know why I press. I know she already said my rejection wasn’t racially motivated, but I still feel like there’s something.
When Rayne drops her eyes to her notebook too quickly, that feeling is reinforced. “I mean kids who aren’t originally from Wolf Ridge or don’t live up here, but just go to school for the sports or whatever. Outsiders.”
Something doesn’t ring quite true in her words, even though I can’t argue with what she’s saying. I just keep thinking it’s something else. Like maybe Brumgard was right; they are all in some kind of closed cult.
I don’t like the prickle that runs over my arms and the stone that sits at the bottom of my stomach.
Does Wolf Ridge have a secret? If so, what the hell is it?
* * *
Cole
It’s a home game and the stadiums are full. I keep scanning them, looking for Pink.
I told her to come.
She flipped me off.
Doesn’t mean she won’t be here, though. And if she is, I’m counting it as a huge fucking victory. If she is, I’m going to make sure I get my hands on her again. All over her.
I texted her one word the night she gave me her phone. “Me.”
I wanted her to have my number in case she wants to communicate about the Brumgard thing. At least that’s what I told myself.
I wasn’t entirely surprised when she didn’t respond.
I’ve been a dick to her and she doesn’t trust me, even though she wants to.
I can’t decide if I want her to.
All I know is that she’s my obsession. I look down at her window every night with my cock in my hand, thinking of the things I want to do to her.
It’s the fourth quarter of the game before I spot the white-blonde mop of hair that belongs to the pack runt, Rayne. And next to her, the hot nerdy human.
My hot human.
She may not know she’s mine yet, but she’ll learn. Her little friend Rayne already knows.
What I’m going to do with her, I don’t know. All I know is that she’s mine to torment. Mine to punish. Mine to… protect.
Yeah, she’s definitely under my protection.
When I saw Casey threatening her, I had to work to keep my temper in check. To act human and not show a little teeth in staking my claim. My jurisdiction. Nobody makes threats to the bookish hottie but me.
No one touches her.
So I glory in the fact that she’s here. I told her to come and she came. It’s a total victory, and one I’m going to celebrate tonight. With her, if I can figure out how to lose my buddies without them knowing what I’m up to.
I’m so happy I get too handy with the ball. I thro
w it down the entire field for a touchdown before I realize what I’m doing.
The stadium shakes with the roar of approval from the crowd, but I can see Coach Jamison staring me down from the sidelines. Oh sure, he pumps his fist in the air like he’s supposed to, but his posture is irritation, not victory.
Our defense holds back for the next snap of the ball and we let them get a field goal in.
I’m hardly paying attention. All I can think about is getting between the thighs of that infuriating, beautiful human up in the stands.
I play it cool. Fumble the ball to make up for my earlier zeal. Steal it back at the last minute for another touchdown. Strut around the field like the stud I am, soaking up the cheers of the fans. My dad’s out there, too.
That used to mean something different to me. I used to do my very best, knowing we’d sit down after the game and pick the whole thing apart. Every move I made, every player on each team. Now he comes but he’s drinking. He yells too loud, embarrasses me. After the game he hardly remembers what happened.
But I’m always acutely aware of his presence. Still wanting to please him even though he doesn’t care like he used to.
We win the game without overly trouncing the opposing team—which is always our goal—and pat each other’s asses as we walk into the locker room. I go straight to my locker and grab my phone.
You came, I text Pink.
I’m satisfied when she answers immediately. Only for Rayne.
I grin. Bullshit. You came because I asked.
That wasn’t asking. That was alpha-hole ordering.
My smile gets wider at her use of a very Wolf Ridge term. Babygirl, you don’t know the first thing about alpha-holes. But I’d be happy to show you.
Giving Pink shit was always the goal, but where it came from a dark bitterness before, it’s turning into something else. The need to get under her skin is just as intense, but the way it makes me feel is different.
Definitely alpha, she’s right.
Nah, I’m good, she texts back.
