Page 45 of Vicious Wolf Mate

I turn the key into the lock and open the door. I cannot believe my eyes.

32

MCKENNA

Ican hear rustling through the wall. A ruckus that is the result of lots of movement. I can feel it in the air, too. An intensity like there is activity that is sudden, harsh, and violent taking place.

Then there is quietude.

A pause between phases.

Then I hear the quick and direct sound of keys working the lock to my door. My mind is hoping for Mace. My protective instincts are telling me it’s Dave, so be ready to fight because nobody is jabbing me with permanent loads of oxytocin. Cuddle-drug or not, they have a fight coming if they think I’ll take it.

I am wrong. Mace. It is Mace. Through my door and running straight to me is Mace. Beautiful Mace. I barely have time to stand.

“You are as beautiful as the morning,” he tells me. “I don’t know how you look lovelier each time I see you,” he adds. He grabs me in his arms and pulls me in as he says all this.

I want to ask him how he got here, how he got the key to my holding cell. I want to tell him that I love him. I want him to really hear me when I say I have been honest all along. “Is it really you?” is what comes out of my mouth. Then I sob into his shoulder. “I missed you, and missed, and I’m just not myself when you’re away,” I add.

We break slightly from our tight and robust hug, and I see his face and neck and arms.

“What happened to you?” I ask. He is banged up, torn up, and it is fresh. “Mace, babe, you are injured, you are all cut up.”

“Look, love, don’t worry about it,” Mace tells me. “Everything is going to be okay. We are back, we have our communication groove back.”

“Yeah,” Jax inserts with a laugh. “If you think Mace looks rough, you should see the other guy.”

I reach up and wrap my arms around Mace’s neck. I pull him close. “I have missed you more than I can share,” I tell him. “I believe in you, and I believe in this connection we have. You need to know that I swear I am telling you the truth. I have been truthful with you all the way through.”

“I believe you. I know you have been honest. I know that. Absolutely,” Mace answers me. His eyes are big and bright and watery. I feel like he is finally surrendering to what he feels for me. “I really do believe you. We need to get out of here right now,” Mace adds. His voice is serious and stiff as a board when he says this last part.

Mace waves his right hand toward the door, and I walk through it and out into the hallway.

The first person I see is Drario, banged up, cut, torn, and worse for wear in the same ways Mace is. There is a second man next to Drario. A strong looking man, stoic, an absolute warrior type, and similar to Mace in nuanced ways. Clearly this is Gnash.

The hallway that runs out of the cell block is long before it turns sharp left. Mace leads, then Gnash, Drario, and Jax are behind me. We make a quick jaunt to leave, but as soon as we make that left turn we face another hallway.

And at the end of the hallway, blocking our passage, is my dear ex Dave and a few of his cronies.

Before Mace or Drario can say anything, Jax breaks the ice. “What’s up, baby girl?” Jax belts out, clearly aiming at Dave.

“Do you use that line on everyone you want to fight with?” Drario asks Jax.

“Fuck that guy,” Jax tells Drario. “He’s an arse, and you know it.”

“Looky here, boys,” Dave says loudly to his cronies. “It’s ‘Lady and the Tramp’ and a couple other pound puppies. Mutts that need to be put down.”

“Get out of the way, we are coming through,” Mace tells Dave. Mace’s voice is business-like, confident. “Get out of the way, and there’ll be no trouble for you.”

“I don’t believe you, you hairy freak,” Dave yells back. Then, pointing his finger in a stabbing motion at McKenna, he continues his mini-rant. “What you are doing and who you are doing it with is an abomination, McKenna.”

“I am glad you don’t believe me,” Mace answers. “I plan to eat your liver.”

“Don’t be stupid, McKenna,” Dave yells, still stabbing his finger in the air at McKenna. “You and your freakshow friends can’t touch me or kill me, the alarms will go off. You won’t make it fifty feet.”

I hear Dave. But what has my attention is the skin on Jax, Drario, Gnash, and Mace is rippling in small waves. Like there are sets of rolling waves beneath the skin. These dudes are about to shift and tear into Dave and his crew.”

“Don’t be scared, homie,” Mace tells Dave. “The first thing I do will be to rip your throat out. When I do get to your liver, you will be gone, bled out. No pain for you. Alarms on or off won’t matter. When my bloodlust gets triggered, I don’t hear anything anyway.”

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