Page 48 of Little Etheldreda Riding Hood

“Red,” he finally says when we’re nearly face to face. I refuse to meet his eyes and keep them glued to a bench just over his shoulder. “Can we just talk? I brought you flowers.”

He holds them out, but I don’t reach out for them. I just let him hold them out.

“Look, I know I messed up, but can you just hear me out?”

I say nothing. The crowds are thinning out. I can call Zach and we can all get kicked off the property when Zach shifts and tries to bite through Morgan’s jugular. I’m stuck.

“Why does it always have to be the hard way with you? Couldn’t you try, just once, to be more–”

“Red!” a gravely male voice calls out from the door of the building behind me. I turn and look up to see who’s calling, grateful for the distraction. At this point, I’d take those needy magazine salespeople, MLM pushers, even religious fanatics trying to get me to join–anything to not be alone with Morgan and whatever bullshit he’s spewing.

I’ve never seen the man before in my life, but he jogs up confidently towards us as if he knows me. He’s not tall, but he rivals the bouncer at the Wild Hare in the muscles department. He’s dressed similarly too–snug fitting t-shirt, jeans, and boots. Although his skin is completely gray.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” the man says, hardly giving Morgan a glance. “Dr. Morales sent me to find you. You’re late for your advisory appointment.”

I’m completely confused for a moment–advisory appointment? What advisory appointment? We’re only two classes into the semester. “Remember, the one you have to be at right now.”

I finally pick up on what the man’s trying to do. “Oh, no…she’s, uh, going to be so upset if I'm late." I turn to Morgan. “Sorry, I’ve got to go.”

The man gives Morgan a look and waits for me to start toward the building first. Once we’re both inside, he says, “Keep walking to her office in case he decides to follow us. Nita has campus police on their way.”

I don’t even know who this man is. He could be a psycho himself, but he gives off an air of authority and he’s walking in the right direction. We get to Dr. Morales’s office and she throws open the door before I can even reach for the handle.

“Are you okay? He didn’t threaten you, did he? Do we need to file a police report?” she asks, all without pausing for answers.

I shake my head. “It’s just my ex. The one that sent all those people to bring me those cats the other day. He’s been trying to get in touch with me. I guess he decided he’d come in person this time.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, thank you both.” I turn to the gray man. “I’m sorry. I don’t even know your name. But thanks, it was getting awkward.” To Dr. Morales, I say, “He’s never been violent, but he does yell when he doesn’t feel like he’s getting his way.”

The frown lines between Nita’s eyes deepen. “This is my husband, Eindride. We saw you having some trouble from the window and thought we’d attempt a rescue.”

“I appreciate it, but he’s a wolf. I’d hate for you to get hurt over someone you barely know just because my ex is like a little kid not getting his way.”

Eindride snorts. “Don’t worry, I can handle a wolf.”

I look past him and Dr. Morales. There is a perfect view of the steps from here. The campus police are outside talking with Morgan. He seems calm and collected from here, but the Lord only knows what he’s telling them. He’s always been good at presenting himself well, talking his way into and out of situations.

“There’s a back way. If you want, we can go around. We’ll walk you to your car,” Dr. Morales offers.

I sigh. Here I am, dragging more people into my drama. Asking for help sucks.

“That’d be awesome. I’d appreciate it.”

Chapter Twenty

In Which a Naked Werewolf Causes Some Drama

Zach doesn’t wait for me to get out of the truck back at the Wild Hare. I hop down from the truck and have to jog to keep up with him.

“What the hell?” Zander asks as we pass the bar.

I shake my head, and he follows us to Randy’s office.

“I’m going to rip his throat out,” Zach growls before the door is even closed behind us.

No one in the room even needs to ask who he’s talking about.

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