Page 21 of Claimed by the Pack

She lived in apartment 4.

I didn't ask him how he knew exactly where she lived and he didn't tell me. Anyways, on my tags, I just left off the apartment number.

I fed money into the slot and waited for the little tag to finish engraving.

The German shepherd was going insane and the lady was sweating.

The tag popped out at last and I looked at it and then tucked it into my pocket before walking in a wide circle around the German shepherd and smiling at the receptionist as I passed the window. I let out a breath I'd been holding as soon as I walked out the door.

The island was small, thank goodness, because I walked everywhere I went.

The pack has two cars that we're all allowed to use for groceries, business, or appointments. But, I didn't think this would qualify for any of that.

My next stop was a little hardware store where I bought a dog collar to put the tag on, and once I had that, I headed toward the address Ridge gave me.

It was Saturday, late morning and I wondered what I was supposed to do if she wasn't home.

I didn't want to call Ridge again so I decided to wing it. I walked until the buildings of the little town began to disappear behind me. Once I was in a secluded area, I ducked into some trees and bushes. I slid the tag onto the collar and lay it down on the grass while I stripped off my clothes, and shifted. I left the clothes, but picked the collar up in my teeth and using the back roads that encircled the town, I ran until I was on the other side of the island, rolled in the dirt so that I hopefully looked more like a stray dog than a wolf and then found a comfortable spot underneath the steps that Cheyenne would have to walk up to get to her apartment.

* * *

Cheyenne

I parkedmy car and looked up at the apartment building.

It was funny to think that just a few short weeks ago, I was happy. Now, I just felt like I was going through the motions. I used to be lonely from time to time, I guess everyone gets that way sometimes.

For the most part, I was content and I was sure that when the time was right, I'd meet some nice young man and we'd get married, have a family...you know, normal stuff.

Then, I met Ridge, and now not only could I not stop thinking about him, but I felt guilty for thinking about him.

I felt weird, like there was something wrong with me for wanting a man who would take me and hold me captive. Sometimes, mostly late at night when I was really lonely, I'd start making excuses for him. I'd tell myself that yes, he did take me, but he didn't hurt me. He didn't rape me. He had plenty of opportunity, had he wanted to do anything awful to me, and he didn't. Then I'd remind myself that he did drug me, and drugging and kidnapping a woman because you “want” them, isn't normal.

But Ridge isn't normal, and that white wolf, Chelsea, tried to explain to me that Ridge had grown up wild, not quite human, I suppose. So, he thought what he was doing was normal...but was that really an excuse? Am I pathetic for trying to find one for him? I have no idea...but all of it was making me feel as if I was losing my mind.

I sighed and got out of the car. I grabbed my yoga bag from the back seat. Myrna usually does yoga with me on Sunday mornings, but she had a family thing to go to in Bali today. Bonnie always spent Sundays with her grandmother, so at least today I'd have some time to myself and they wouldn't be around to stare at me like I might break. I crossed the parking lot and was almost to the stairs when the sight of fur caught my eye. Something white and gray was laying under the stairs. It sort of looked like a dog, but it was bigger and it was really dirty. I stopped, afraid to approach the stairs with him lying underneath it.

Was he lying in .. wait.

The dog lifted his head and looked at me. He didn't look aggressive, at least not in that moment. He was holding something in his teeth. It looked like it might be his collar. I wondered if someone was looking for him. I said a silent prayer that it wouldn't attack me as I slowly approached it. I've never had a dog, and there aren't that many of them on the island.

Talking in low, sweet tones I said, “Hey guy. What are you doing under there? Where are you supposed to be?”

The dog's eyes were light blue, almost clear. I'd never seen eyes like that before, but they were beautiful. He wasn't growling at me, or making any kind of aggressive moves, so I got a little closer, squat down and put my hand out so that he could smell it. When he did, he opened his mouth and let the collar with the tag on it, fall at my feet. I scratched him under his chin and he lifted it and closed his eyes like he liked it. With the other hand I reached down and picked up the collar. It said his name was Gray and the apartment complex address was imprinted on the tag...but there was no apartment number.

“Gray, huh? So, you live here?”

He didn't answer me, of course. I looked around me.

There were fifty apartments in our complex. Only about half of them were occupied, but knocking on 25 doors could still be time consuming. Yet, I couldn't just leave him there. What if he got into the parking lot and got ran over? I would feel horrible. My eyes fell on apartment number one, the super's apartment. If anyone knew who owned a dog here, it would be him. I stood up and the dog immediately came out from underneath the steps and stood next to me. I smiled and reached down and pet him again. He was so soft. He was big too, now that I saw him on all fours. He nearly came up to my waist. I didn't know much about dogs, but I thought this one was a husky or a malamute. They were normally arctic dogs and I wondered what the heck he was doing on a tropical island.

“Come on Gray, let's see if we can figure out where you belong.”

The dog wagged his tail and followed me over to the super's apartment. I knocked on the door and Mr. Balik's door.

I was still learning about the Balinese.

Myrna told me he wasn't really Mr. Balik. His name was Wayan Balik...which meant, “Wayan again.” Eldest boys are named Wayan and there are names for second, third and fourth sons. The fifth one starts it all over, and that was Mr. Balik.

---