Page 46 of Dark Wolf Soul
Padding into the bathroom, I’m reaching for the shower knobs when I suddenly remember I don’t have a single shred of clothing to change into besides the slept-in, wrinkled, smelly ones I’m wearing and the even more smelly ones I arrived in.
“Fuck it,” I mutter and peel off my clothes anyway.
If he refuses to buy me clothes, I’ll go naked.
The shower is heavenly, the hot water doing wonders to wake me up and work out the kinks of the stress from the past few days. Time feels weird, like it should have been months since I was taken from the parking lot of Shady’s and brought to a strange city where two feuding families are fighting over me like I’m their favorite toy.
Instead, it’s been days.
And I’m already starting to adjust to this new reality.
For some reason, that leaves me disappointed in myself most of all.
I can’t control what’s been done to me, but the fact that I’m starting to lose my panic over it… it’s wrong somehow.
When I’m done with my shower, I wring out my hair and wrap a towel around my body then grab my dirty clothes from the floor. Attempting to wash them in the tub doesn’t help much, thanks to the stains left by the events of last night.
With a sigh, I give up on the idea of re-wearing them and instead yank my bedsheet off the mattress and wrap it around myself like a toga.
“Better than nothing,” I mutter to myself and then march out before I can overthink my choice.
The living room is dimly lit by a cloudy sky that’s threatening rain just outside the massive windows. After a quick glance revealing an empty room, I pad to the fridge in search of food. There’s not much besides eggs and a takeout container of noodles I cannot be certain isn’t spoiled. I do manage to find coffee and focus on making myself a cup before I commit to anything else.
The apartment is silent while I fumble with the coffeemaker, adding grounds and water and hitting the power button. For a second, I think the place is empty and Grey left me here alone. It’s not like I can get out, anyway, so maybe he—
The other bedroom door opens with a soft click.
A second later, Grey appears.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.”
His gaze rakes over my sheet-covered body, and I feel goosebumps rise along my skin at his perusal.
“What are you wearing?”
My cheeks flush. “I don’t have any clean clothes.”
Understanding lights his dark eyes; then his mouth quirks. “Actually, you do.”
“What?”
“Come here.”
He leads the way back down the hall. After a single second of hesitation, I hurry around the bar and follow him, stopping when he disappears into his own bedroom. Something about entering his personal space feels, well, personal.
“I didn’t want to wake you up,” he says from inside, “so I had everything brought in here for now.”
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I follow the sound of his voice, passing through a bedroom done in muted grays and blacks and creams into a walk-in closet that’s more empty than full.
On one side, I spot a selection of pants and shirts all similar to what he’s wearing now along with at least half a dozen suits. On the other side, Grey is unzipping a garment bag and shrugging it open to reveal hangers full of women’s blouses, shirts, dresses, and even a couple of evening gowns. There are six more garment bags next to the first one, each packed full.
“What is all this?” I ask.
“Clothes,” he says simply.
I stare at him. “For me?”
