Page 25 of To Hunt A Wolf
ChapterSix
Iwake to a burning sensation ripping through my chest. Gasping, I shoot up out of bed and then immediately regret the decision.
“Whoa, easy.”
A pair of hands ease me back toward the mattress. Bleary-eyed, I look up at Tripp leaning over me. He meets my eyes and immediately frowns at whatever he sees in my expression. “Don’t even think about punching me too, by the way. I’mhelpingyou.”
Helping?
My eyes flick around what looks like a hotel room. I’m lying in a queen bed covered with a floral duvet that has worn thin from use. On the cheap desk at the foot of the bed is a coffee maker along with a placard printed with the Wifi password. On my right, a sliding glass door leads onto a sunlit balcony—and standing at the railing, his back to me, is Levi.
At the sight of him, I lose all sense of physical pain in my own body. All that exists is the pain he caused my heart. I feel it—and him—like a punch in the gut.
His shoulders are tense.
He’s worried—I hate that I know that.
Just like I hate that I have the distinct urge to go to him and massage the tension away with my hands.
Obviously, I’m unwell.
I can’t help the pang I feel at knowing Levi is right out there but Tripp is the one at my bedside, making sure I wake up.
With that in mind, I tear my eyes away, back to Tripp, who hovers, concern lining his forehead. Probably still worried I’ll punch him.
“Where am I? What happened?”
Tripp sighs. “You don’t remember anything?”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking.”
“Fair point.” He cringes like he’d rather nurse me into a quiet death than explain any of this.
“I remember a tracker trying to kill me,” I say, squinting as I force my memory to return. “And Levi,” I say before Tripp can fill me in. “Dammit. He took the guy out before I could question him.”
The reminder irritates me all over again.
Tripp’s eyes narrow. “He saved your ass.”
I shrug then wince as sharp pain shoots from my shoulder down into my chest. “Ugh. What the…”
I lift my hand toward the source of the pain. My fingers brush over what feels like a bandage, but Tripp slaps my hand away before I can be sure.
“Don’t pull the bandage off,” he warns.
“What happened?” I repeat.
“The tracker used poison,” he says warily.
“Poison?”
“Rattlesnake venom. They sometimes soak their claws in it.”
My eyes widen. “That shit is deadly.”
“Exactly.”
“That son of a… I’m going to kill him.”
