Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Hurt. Fuck.
The memory of Lotta’s blood spilling into the sink flashes in front of my eyes, and my wolf snarls beneath the surface. I want to flatten some more of my teammates.
Of course, she’s fine. The cut was already closed by the time I joined her in the bathroom.
But I’m still fucking traumatized by her tears.
I know she wanted what I gave her. I’m damn sure it was consensual. She just didn’t want to want it. But to watch the girl of your dreams cry while you fuck her hard against a wall is more than unnerving. It disturbed me to my core.
“That.” Coach Jamison claps a hand against my helmet. “What are you thinking about, Asher?”
“Nothing, Coach.”
“So we lie to each other now? Is that how it is?” He pins me with a penetrating stare. It’s not his pack dominance that gets to me. It’s the fact that he cares.
He’s one of the very few people in this town who gives a shit about what happens to me. Who doesn’t lump me in with my no-good dad.
Fuck.
“It’s a girl,” I admit. I’m obviously not going to say which girl.
He waits without any reaction. Apparently that wasn’t enough of an explanation.
“We hooked up on the full moon run.”
“Without protection.” The disappointment in his tone is clear. I swear Coach Jamison takes his unofficial job as the team’s sex educator more seriously than training us for football.
“I pulled out.”
Coach shakes his head. “Not effective. How many times have I told you guys that?”
“Every full moon for the last four years,” I mutter. I should be shamed by Coach’s admonishment, but instead, a warm contented feeling is soaking through my PTSD from this afternoon.
But why?
I look around to see if Lotta is nearby.
I don’t see her. It’s just the team out here. Then I realize–
It’s Coach’s fear that I impregnated her. My wolf is responding to that idea with deep satisfaction. Like knocking up the art teacher at my high school is a good idea. Like she would ever want to have a family with me.
Keep her.
I hear the delusional whisper in my head.
But I don’t get to keep this girl. I don’t even want to keep her. I despise Lotta James for what she did.
I may desire her sexually, but that’s it. I will never get past what she did. I won’t forgive her for it–not that she’s even asked for my forgiveness.
Besides, she can’t be with a student. She’d be fired if anyone found out.
“Morning after pill might still be an option. Dr. Oakley understands about the pull of a full moon. Doesn’t he stock that cabin of his with condoms for you kids?”
It’s true–Abe’s dad has made it clear since we were in middle school that his cabin is available for any of us. He’s another Wolf Ridge evangelist for safe sex.
“Yeah. I didn’t make it to the cabin.”
Coach Jamison peers at me. “You like this girl?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He lifts his brows. “Want to talk about it?”
I look away, scanning my buddies on the field. “No.”
“Asher, you’re more than this. You don’t have to fit in the hole this town wants to put you in. I’ve been telling you, a football scholarship to ASU is still possible. Maybe even UCLA. Their scout was watching you. But not if you’re getting yourself suspended. And not if you knock a she-wolf up.”
“I know, Coach. I’m sorry.”
“That’s nice, but I don’t need your apology, Asher. You need to figure out who you really owe an apology to.”
I shake my head as he stalks away, not wanting to analyze the puzzle he dropped. But like all the mind-wedgies he inflicts on the team, I’m sure I’ll be working it out over the next few weeks.
Well, I’m sure as hell not going to apologize to Lotta if that’s what he meant.
The best that female will ever get from me will be a rough fuck and a slap on the ass.
Chapter Eleven
Lotta
I sit on Dr. Oakley’s examination table and scroll through Instagram. I haven’t posted a new painting in a month, but my channel is full of wolf paintings. If the pack knew I was putting these up for the world to see, Alpha Green and the other elders would freak. Our species is careful about hiding our secret. Understandably.
The U.S. Government knows we exist–just like they know alien life exists and has visited Earth. Some say they keep a record of packs and their members in America. I don’t know whether that’s true. I do know there have been shifters who have been snatched and subjected to grievous testing, and government-funded experimentation. I’ve also heard there are special ops teams in the U.S. military that consist entirely of shifters. Kind of like Navy SEALs 2.0.
Regardless, one of the primary pack rules is to hide our existence from other humans. So me posting canvas after canvas of the larger-than-life-sized wolves I paint would be frowned on. Especially the ones that show an overlay of a human on the wolf. The meaning might be too obvious, even to a human.