Page 11 of Claimed by the Pack

He tried to pull his hand away, but it looked like she was biting down harder.

I saw the transformation.

It was likely caused by pain and rage, but Ridge lost control for just a second. His hazel eyes flashed yellow and his canines dropped.

Cheyenne had to have noticed because she let go of him and suddenly she was as still as a statue. She stared at him for several seconds and then opened her mouth full of blood and began to scream again.

It was only when Chelsea screamed “Stop! Enough!” in what the rest of us in the pack refer to as her demon voice, that she suddenly stopped. The baby stopped crying too and Ridge and I both froze. That was Chelsea's “I mean business” voice and if anyone didn't comply, there would be consequences.

Once everyone wasquiet and calm, Chelsea began snapping orders.

“Chase, take the baby back up to the house in the Jeep. Cheyenne, are you going to walk nicely or do I have to have Ridge carry you?”

“I'll walk,” she said, pulling out of Ridge's grasp. I felt a tickle of sympathy for my friend. I'd never seen him look so sad. He knew that no matter how this turned out that he'd probably ruined any chance he may have ever had with the woman he was sure was his mate.

Cheyenne

The woman gaveRidge a hard stare and with a huff, he began to follow me. She fell into step with me and said,

“My name is Chelsea. I'm one of the owners of The Pack, Security Services.”

“Well this is a fine way to run a business,” I said, sarcastically.

She looked at Ridge again like she wanted to bite his head off, but in a calm voice she said, “This isn't about our business. Ridge is a...friend, and I came here to help him.”

“Help him? It would seem that I'm the one who needs help. I've been held captive for at least two days and I'm covered in human feces.”

Chelsea wrinkled her perfect little nose and said, “Yeah, sorry about that. I'm here to help you too. But first, let's let you get cleaned up, then, we'll all sit down and talk.”

“And what if I don't want to talk? I want to go home. I don't want to “talk” to my captor and his “friends.”

“We'll get you home safely, I promise. Just give me this much and I'll get you wherever you need to go, unharmed.”

I wanted to scream again, but I controlled it. I walked faster and by the time we made it back to the little house, the...stuff I was covered with began to get hard and crusty. I was feeling sicker to my stomach by the minute. Chelsea opened the door and Chase was sitting there in a rocking chair, holding the baby. The little guy had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

I hated to admit it, but they were kind of cute.

“Go ahead and shower, Cheyenne. There should be everything you need in there. I have some clothes in the jeep. I'll get them for you.” I looked at Chelsea's small frame and raised an eyebrow. She smiled and said, “I'm sure I have something to fit you. Please though, don't take off again. I promise you'll be home very soon.”

I didn't respond to that. If it wasn't a matter of swimming through shit again only to get caught a second time, I might try it again. I went into the bathroom and had to pull the toilet out of the tub before starting the shower. Once the water warmed up, I got in with my clothes on first. I scrubbed my pants and blouse with soap and once they were halfway clean, I peeled them off and showered myself. It felt so good to wash the literal shit out of my hair and off my face. I stayed in the shower until every last drop of hot water was used up, and then I finally stepped out and began to dry off. There was a knock on the door when I was just about finished drying.

“It's Chelsea. I left the clothes on the bed.”

I didn't respond.

What was I going to do, thank her?

I wasn't thanking any of them, for any of this. I was getting angrier by the minute just thinking about it. Chase and Chelsea had not come here to save me. If that were the case, they would have brought the police.

They came hereto save him...and that really pissed me off.

I finished dryingoff and went into the bedroom and found the clothes she'd left for me. There was a red and blue flannel shirt and a pair of gray sweat pants. Not exactly stylish, but warm, dry, and not covered in feces.

I put them on and then reluctantly, opened the bedroom door.

Chelsea had the baby in her lap now.

Chase was starting a fire in the fire place and Ridge was sitting on the couch with a sullen look on his face.

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