“Hunting?” I ask.
Her eyes widen and she shakes her head once. “I don’t ask.”
Understanding the unwritten rule of, don’t ask, don’t tell, when it comes to club business, I only nod. I’m sure Pinkie has some kind of duty for me to do in the bar, but since it’s getting to be dark, she wouldn’t want me back there anyway, so I take Gisele up on her offer.
“Sure, I’ve never watched Netflix before,” I admit.
“Never?” she breathes.
“Nope.”
Together we make our way toward her barndominium. She tells me that Coyote built it next to the clubhouse so that he could be close to her and the club, seeing as she prefers not to go places much. She likes to stay inside her own space, and I can’t say that I blame her at all.
When I lived at the Donkey Punchers clubhouse, I tried to stay in my room as much as possible, keeping the door locked at all times. It was safer that way. Seems as though it’s safer for my sanity to do the same thing here.
Spending the evening with Gisele is exactly what I need. She’s my age, but in some ways, she seems younger and in others, she seems light years older. She reminds me of myself and I’m glad for the company.
“So what’s your favorite food?” I ask her, trying to learn more about this recluse who enjoys baking awesome chocolate cake and watching Netflix shows.
She hums, leaning back in her chair and turns her head to look at me. “Pizza. Is that cliché? I feel like it really is.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “No, I like pizza more than I probably should too. My favorite thing is raisin pie though.”
“What?” she cries. “What the hell is that?”
Closing my eyes, I lean back and rest my head against the back of the couch. I bring forward a memory that I try not to think of often. It was the time my mom left my dad. She ran and she ran hard, all the way to Arkansas.
We stayed with her parents for a full week before my dad found us and dragged us back to California. He pumped my mom full of so many drugs she was catatonic the whole way home. I was catatonic too, but mostly because I was scared to death.
“My grandma,” I whisper, thinking of my mom’s mom. It was the one and only time I met her. I don’t even know her name or if she’s still alive. “I stayed with her for a week, in Arkansas, and every night she made a big dessert. I didn’t know why, seemed weird to me since my mom didn’t cook anything unless it could be nuked in the microwave, but every night my grandma made dessert. The last thing I ever ate of hers was raisin pie and I thought it had come straight from heaven.”
“Tell Gisele good night,” a voice growls.
My entire body jolts and I turn around to see Coyote and Dylan standing right behind me. Coyote doesn’t even notice me. His eyes are on Gisele and they’re warm. He’s smiling and looking like he’s about to rip her clothes off.
Dylan isn’t looking at me anywhere near that way though, he’s looking at me like he sees nothing except red hot anger in his vision. I’m not even sure he actually sees me. Deciding not to poke the bear, I let out a sigh and stand to my feet.
Licking my lips, I turn to look over to Gisele. “I had a lot of fun.”
Admitting it feels weird, but I did have a lot of fun. I’ve never had a friend before, so while this feels weird, it also feels really good. She smiles and tells me that she did too and to come over anytime at all.
The last thing that I want to do is leave, but I do it. Walking right past Dylan, I wonder why he’s so damn angry, then decide he can be whatever he wants. I know what he was doing, probably last night, but definitely all day today, and I know what I’m going to be doing in the future. I’m getting the fuck out of here.
Chapter Fourteen
PAMELA
Following behind Dylan, I wonder why he’s so angry, but then I decide it doesn’t matter. I’m getting the fuck out of here. I repeat the sentence to myself again and again, reminding myself that it’s what’s going to happen, even as Dylan marches toward the dark side of the building, instead of toward the lit back door.
He stops and turns to me, but still doesn’t speak. I let out a gasp as he wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me against his chest before he walks me backward until my back slams against the wall.
Tilting my head back, I look up into his wild, deep gaze. He looks like a wild animal, too. He looks as though he’s been caged and wildly looking around for an escape. He doesn’t have the right to look that way. He doesn’t know what being caged is like, he doesn’t know shit.
“Do you have any idea what you did?” he barks.
Between his intense gaze and the anger that’s radiating from him, combined with his sharp tone, I jerk backward and my head bounces off of the brick wall behind me with a painful thud. Pressing my lips together, I try not to cry, except this time I’m not sure if I can swallow the tears.
“What I did?” I ask, completely confused on top of terrified of what he’s going to do to me in his blind rage.
He bares his teeth with a growl, and I’m unable to stop the tears from falling down
