Page 38 of Sweethearts and Savages
“You’ve got brain damage? Fuck. Just my luck. I had to grab a fucking broken one,” he grunted, and that rage that was simmering underneath the surface burst through my skin and I was springing up before I even recognized the action. I launched myself at his face, wrapping my legs around his waist as I pummelled him with my good hand, my broken hand gripping him uselessly. I got two good, crunching hits in before he peeled me off, tossing me back to the couch. He pulled his gun again and aimed it in my direction.
“What the actual fuck?” he yelled and I curled my lip.
“Not. Broken.”
“Fuck me, fine. You’re not broken. But you’re fucking worse than useless to me. You’re a damn liability. I should take you out and fucking put you out of your misery.”
My body froze. Maybe that would be best. Bohdie and Stacey would mourn me, but they’d move on. So would my littermates. This strange, terrified half life would be over.
But even as part of me contemplated letting this hunter kill me, another part of me rebelled. Bohdie wouldn’t be okay, because I was stolen under his watch. I knew enough about my Alpha to know that it would haunt him forever.
Stacey would never allow herself to love another person again.
Christopher and Carmen would both blame themselves, especially if they couldn’t find me. I’d always be the missing piece of their lives.
My parents would tear apart the world looking for me. I knew that as well as I knew my own name. Mom especially would never recover if they found me dead. If they found me too late.
No, I couldn’t give up. I needed to run.
I looked up at the man in front of me. He looked as cold as my bones felt. I looked toward the fire, and he followed my gaze. Then I launched myself at the door. I needed to get out of here, and once I was in the woods I could shift to my wolf.
I hurdled the back of the couch and made it to the door before a strong arm banded around my waist and another curled around my chest. I was a fucking wolf shifter, surely I was stronger than a human. But the weakness in my dominant hand meant that I was just flailing around.
“Stop or I’ll jab you again,” he growled.
I went dead limp. I’d rather be docile than that vulnerable again. He dragged me back toward the fire. He dropped me in front of the hearth and pulled his gun. Holding it on me, he reached into his duffle bag and pulled out a long chain. At each end of it was a cuff.
“We can do this the easy way or the painful way,” he said in a hard tone. “This is silver. You’re going to put it on, whether you want it or not. The difference will be that in one scenario, I give you this protective leather guard to wrap around your wrist so it doesn't burn through your flesh. I’m happy for it to go on either way, the rest is up to you.”
I glared at him, and held my hand out for the brace.
I went to put it on my useless right wrist, but he whistled. “Other wrist, little monster. I’ve noticed you favoring one over the other.”
I bared my teeth at him again and tried to wrap it around my left wrist with my useless right hand. With the shaking and my still numb fingers, it was an exercise in pointlessness. “Can’t. Hand fucked.”
He snorted a laugh, and then I watched him visibly swallow the sound down. “I’ll do it, but honestly, if you bite off my hand, I won’t be so nice.”
I scoffed but I held out my arm, refusing to look at him. Like ignoring my damn abductor was going to bother him. This wasn’t fair, but since when was life fair? I felt the heat of the silver go around my wrist, and while the effects of silver on shifters had been largely exaggerated by Hollywood, it did sting a little. More like an allergy than poison. Plus, it inhibited our ability to shift. It was more of an inconvenience—unless you shot us with it. A bullet was a bullet, no matter your species.
Then he surprised the shit out of me by securing the other end of the four foot long chain to his wrist. “Just in case you get any ideas about shooting me. Good luck trying to run through the wilderness dragging my ass.”
I was so fucking screwed. He pointed at me with the gun again. “Go over there and warm yourself.” He sat on the couch as I kneeled in front of the fire, keeping one eye on him behind me. How the hell was I going to get out of this?
I looked around the cabin, which was barely more than one room. It would be hard to sneak out of a single room. Who was I kidding, it would be hard to sneak anywhere.
I didn’t think anyone would come to find me soon either. This guy was… maybe not a professional, but he was organized.
I looked back at him and repeated my question. “What. Want.” The situation was making my speech worse.
He seemed to understand fine though. “Eden is made of monsters. Those monsters destroyed my life. Now I’m going to destroy them.”
I looked at him incredulously. I tried to judge his age. Maybe mid-twenties? Not very old, I didn’t think. Maybe Eden, the organization that founded the Academy, had done something before they’d come to Canada. But I knew Micah, Alistair, and Locke. I knew they wouldn’t hurt some random person for no reason.
“Lies.”
The guy snorted, waving me away. “You’re just brainwashed.” He fell silent and I reached out to my littermates, hoping our bond would work over these long distances. But there was nothing. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.
“I need to know how to get to them. How to break apart their world like they did mine,” he said softly, more to himself than to me. “You were meant to be a guy. I could torture a guy for information. Not some pretty, waifish girl who can’t speak.” He raked a hand down his face.
