He was a fucking lunatic to those who crossed him.
“Come in.” He beckoned for Journey to sit down. She looked at me for guidance.
My wolf purred in excitement that she would trust us before Locke, because no one ever trusted us, not entirely.
I nodded, bending to reach her ear. “It’s alright. I’m here.” Her breath let out slowly, as she sat in the slightly padded chair.
I stood behind her chair, crossing my arms, glaring at anyone that looked her way. They all cowered, shifting their bodies toward Locke.
Locke raised an eyebrow again, his signature look since last night. He had questions, fuck, I had questions, but one thing was certain—my wolf wouldn’t let anyone harm Journey, not that they would.
That would defy the pledge we all took when coming here—to save the weak.
My wolf snarled at the thought of someone touching her. I could feel his rusty red hair stiffen, prowling around the small window where he would one day come forward to shift. And I knew I would not have the strength to hold him back.
“We are just going to ask some questions, Journey, and then you will be free to go,“ Locke said.
I lifted my lip, showing a fang.
Locke ignored me, his eyes still on Journey.
She shifted in her seat and nodded, folding her arms over the large black sweatshirt. “Okay,” she muttered.
“And I need you to be honest. We will know. Switch over here”—Locke tilted his head to him—“will know. We’ve done a background check, but I want your side of the story.”
Journey said nothing. Her body slipped lower in the seat, and her heart raced. The claws on my fingers, which grew longer and thicker than they had in years, gripped the chair, splitting the wood.
Sizzle, who sat beside Journey, raised an eyebrow, signaling Locke.
In understanding, Locke sat back in his chair, putting his hands on the table. “Right, so do you have family, Journey?”
“Yes,” her answer was short.
“And do they know you’re missing?” he pried.
“They don’t want me.” My claws raked across my leather jacket. “They’re the reason why I was in the situation I was in,” she muttered.
“Can you elaborate?” Locke leaned on the table.
“I can, but I won’t,” she snapped. Breathing ceased in the room. No one told Locke “no.”
It didn’t matter if he looked carefree. He was deadly, like me.
“You asked if I had family yesterday. Technically by blood, I do. They are not my family, though.” Her teeth ground together.
I placed my hand on her shoulder, and the tension in her in her body relaxed.
“Fair enough,” Locke backed off, his fingers thumping the table. “This last person you were sold to, do you know who they are? Their name?”
Journey shook her head. “Just that Aedar was my ‘boss.’ He trained me, told me what I needed to do, and I did it. If we didn’t follow his orders, then a man in a black ski mask came in, and then you were in trouble.”
Beretta shifted her feet, the growl in her throat becoming too loud for her panther, and Locke glared at her in reprimand.
“Do you need to leave?” Locke asked.
Beretta shook her head, bowing her head in submission. Journey locked eyes with Beretta, but she only winked in return.
I moved my other hand to her open shoulder, my thumbs rubbing her back and neck. Journey slumped her shoulders in defeat. Her head hung impossibly lower, and her cheeks displayed a deep shade of red.
