Page 31 of Locke

Abuela’s hand slapped the table. “No. It is true. I have seen it. Your match is there. Stop the head-hunting and open your eyes. You are where you are supposed to be. All will fall into place, and, mija...?”

As I fell into silence, a tear betrayed my feelings, cascading down my face.

“Yes, Abuela?”

“My time is short.”

I shook my head. “No, it is not. You are using your crystals, remember?” I huffed out a laugh.

“Mija, my time is short and even crystals and tonics cannot keep me alive forever. Just know that I love you, and try not to fight so hard. You are a stubborn woman and, honestly, your soulmate might like that a little, so yeah, play hard to get. But, only a little.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Okay, okay, whatever you say,” I humored her.

She was a crazy woman, but she had a heart of gold. She practically raised us and I wasn’t about to argue with her. Her throwing skills were pretty amazing, too, so I would not chance it.

“Well, you get some sleep. I want you well rested once you meet him, you hear me? And, no more hunting. Promise me?”

I pursed my lips together and crossed my fingers. “Sure, sure.”

“Mija,” she growled. “Don’t make me get another chancla.”

“Alright, I promise!” I squeaked.

If there was anyone I was truly scared of, I think it was my abuela.

She hummed into the phone and hung up so I didn’t have time to smart back.

Little did she know, I didn’t have a decision on the matter, until I’d met the target. And, I definitely didn’t believe her in this whole soulmate thing. I was thirty-seven and hadn’t met any men that made me feel like my soul was on fire.

They were all boring and not worth giving up my lifestyle. I needed more excitement. None of them would live up to my expectations in the bedroom, even if I thought they were promising in the beginning. Had they never heard of foreplay?

Who the hell wanted to just fuck? Can a woman get a little foreplay? A few red flags? Like tie each other up, hunt each other down, play rough?

Ugh, I have to stop reading those BDSM romances.

I huffed out a breath, grabbed the lock box and threw the burner phone inside. I’ll destroy it in the morning.

It was pitch black in the RV. The curtains were closed, and the fridge was humming quietly. I could hear the wolf’s soft snores when I woke up suddenly, from the jingling of a bell from one of my rudimentary traps.

Why didn’t the camera alarm turn on?

“Shit,” I hissed, and tried to move.

Tried being the word here, because the sweltering heat of the wolf was on top of me.

He was supposed to be sleeping on the floor.

Another jingle came from the outside. It was quiet enough the intruder may not think I had heard it, but I most certainly did. The wolf’s growl was deep in his chest. He stood up on the bed and covered my body.

“Get off, mutt, or I’m gonna stab you!” I muttered and pulled a knife from the drawer beside me.

He eyed me, annoyed, but did what he was told and watched me with curiosity. I stood on the bed and unlocked a hatch above me. It didn’t creak, not when I oiled the shit out of the hinge. I had to always be prepared if I ever needed to use it as a getaway or in this case, sneak up on whoever was outside.

I squeezed halfway through the top, cursing myself for the extra fries I ate the night before and peaked out the other side. The intruder was tall, thin, lanky, wearing all black and, from eyesight alone, did not yield any weapons on the outside of his body.

I put the blade in my mouth and squeezed through the rest of the way. My nightgown pulled lower on my breasts. Poor intruder might get a show before all this was said and done.

I crouched on the balls of my feet, watching where he was going, and I saw my wolf walking out the front door like it was a fucking Sunday afternoon. The intruder didn’t see him, but I’d be damned if my wolf got to him before I did.

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