Page 28 of The Crimson Wolf
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
He scoffs. “Trust me, I know, but that’s not what you said before he picked you up.” He leans back and takes a sip of his coffee.
“I just said that because I thought you were going to lock me in those chains and murder me.”
He laughs, and a devilish smile creeps across his face. “I told you those are for injured animals.”
“Yeah, and I don’t believe it for a second.”
He shrugs. “Believe what you want.”
“And to answer your question, Jack told me everything. He told me his real job and what roams in the woods you protect.” He didn’t tell me how he knows Cameron, but if what he says is true, maybe he’s also a Werewolf Hunter. At least, it would explain the chains.
Cameron’s calm demeanor snaps, and he grabs my forearm. “He’s an idiot, and this is not the place to discuss it.”
I hit a nerve without even saying much. My heart beats faster as I notice Cameron’s strong hold on me, static electricity zapping me at the place of contact. I pull away, and his eyes clear. He lessens his grip, shaking his head slightly. He exhales. “I’m sorry, but if you really want to talk about this, we need somewhere private.”
He gets up and throws a few dollars on the table. “Follow me back to my place.”
Before I have time to respond, he’s walking out the entrance.
I scramble after him. As much as I don’t want to follow the asshole back to his house, I don’t have a choice. He knows what’s going on, and he’s willing to tell me the truth.
19
A Pull
Cameron shuts and locks the door behind me.
I can’t believe I let myself end up back in his weird torture cabin. He’s had plenty of time to murder me and chop my body up in a million little pieces, but I can’t help the fear that zips through my veins whenever I’m near him. I don’t know if I should trust him, but some part of my brain can’t help but want to discover more.
I scan around the cabin, this time noticing the more homey qualities of the place. Stacks of books rest on the side table, the coffee table, and by the fireplace. Flannel blankets drape over the leather couch facing a window, looking out to the expanse of trees. Hints of cinnamon andfreshly baked cookies linger in the air. Maybe my recollection of this place is a bit more frightening than the reality. My eyes meet the chains adhered to the thick wooden pillar at the far end of the living room, and my comfort washes away. Yep, still creepy.
I turn my attention toward the kitchen once I hear the clicking of glass.
Cameron pours himself an amber liquid into a low-ball crystal cup.
“Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?”
He throws his head back, and I watch as his Adam’s apple bulges as he gulps down the alcohol. The sight of it makes my mouth water for some odd reason. He breathes out and shakes his head. “It’s never too early with you, Red.”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest, before pacing the outside edge of his oriental carpet at the center of his living room. “Okay, well, now you have me here. What is it that no one else can hear?”
Cameron pours himself another small amount before walking toward me and perching on the armrest of a worn leather loveseat in the corner. “What exactly did Jack tell you?”
I take a deep breath. This will be the first time I repeat the words out loud, and I’m already shitting bricks thinking about the craziness about to leave my lips. “He told mehe’s a Werewolf Hunter, and the creature that almost attacked me in the woods was a werewolf. He said the attacks weren’t just a regular animal attack, but some mythical werewolf fuckery.” I stop, trying to catch his expression.
His face lay flat, and he moves from the armrest to the chair, setting his glass on the side table.
I suddenly feel like I’m in a therapy session, and he’s about to ask me questions about my childhood to explain how I can be so crazy even to entertain such a thing. “I know, it’s crazy, but I’ve known Jack my whole life, and he seemed very convinced this was the truth.” I leave out the part about my family’s involvement. I figure one small dose of insanity at a time.
“So, you don’t believe him?” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze intense.
I step closer to him, pulled by an invisible string. “Should I?”
The air thickens around us, and my heart rate hinges on his next words.
He shrugs. “It’s notalltrue.”
