Fate of the Wolf

Chapter 1-2

EVENTUALLY, THE FOOTBALL game ended. Most of the patrons had called it a night and were wandering home or piling into waiting cabs.

All of them, that is, except the creep.

I’d kept an eye on him after the beer incident, but he mostly kept a low profile for the rest of the night. Foolishly, I let my guard down, deciding he wasn’t worth the stress. If he wanted to nurse his beer in an empty bar, fine. Not my concern; I’d get to kick him out soon, anyway.

Finally, there were only two customers left. The creep and some guy slumped over in a booth in the back corner.

Almost done.

As I wiped down the counter, I noticed the creep harassing Tammy over by the DJ booth. She’d gone out to collect the empty glasses. He was pressing her up against a pillar, tugging at the tray in her hands.

Ah, s**t.

My heart began to pump faster. Harder.

Tammy was no wilting lily, but she was no wolf-shifter in hiding either.

“Hey, Mick!” I called out, but he was nowhere to be seen. I ducked my head around the kitchen door. “Louise, you seen Mick?”

“Hmm, not for a while.” Louise furrowed her brow, stacking plates onto the draining board. “Bathroom, maybe?”

“Do you mind keeping an eye on the bar? Tammy needs help.”

Louise narrowed her eyes, understanding my tone. “Sure.”

She came out of the kitchen with me as I re-entered the bar area and marched across the floor. The creep had succeeded in tugging the tray out of Tammy’s hands and was leering over her, getting right up in her face.

His breath probably smelled horrible.

“Please,” Tammy was begging. “Stop!”

She shrank back against the pillar, trying to fend off his groping hands.

My wolf instantly rose, sensing danger to a member of my adopted family. I reassured her enough that she settled, albeit uneasily.

I can deal with this, I told my wolf. He’s just another creep who needs to go home and sleep off his stupidity.

“Hey!” I poked him hard in the shoulder. “That’s enough, now.”

“Piss off.” He glared at me, his eyes bleary and bloodshot. He reeked of alcohol. “You had your chance. I’m going home with this one.”

Over his shoulder, I caught Tammy’s eye. The look of horror on her face had my heart pounding and my wolf racing straight back up to the surface.

No f*****g way.

“I don’t think so.” I grabbed his arm and yanked him away, giving Tammy the chance to scuttle to safety. “I’m calling you a cab. C’mon, let’s go.”

I did a quick scan of the room. Damn it, where’d Mick go? Patrick, our security guard, was missing too. He was probably outside making sure the drunk patrons got into cabs instead of wandering toward their parked cars.

“You little b***h!”

My attention snapped back to the problem at hand. The hammered, infuriating asshole of a problem standing in front of me with an irate expression.

“You let her get away.”

“Get away?” My jaw dropped. “She’s not a f*****g rabbit, dude. You’re not out hunting.”

The veins on his neck bulged as he clenched his teeth. He wanted to hit me. Well... good. Just try it! Please. Give me an excuse to break your teeth.

I held my ground. “I suggest you leave, now, before I call the police.”

I turned away, but didn’t get very far. Wide hands reached out and grabbed me, hauling me backwards. I could feel his soft belly pressing against my back. His beer breath brushed my cheek.

“You jealous, girly? That your problem?”

I tried to lean away from him, but he held on tight. I felt a hot wetness sliding over my cheek, slithering behind my ear.

Ugh. He had his tongue on my face.

That, right there, was the last straw.

I shoved away from him as hard as I could and twisted around to face him. He stumbled backwards, a look of shock on his stupid face. Shock that turned almost instantly to rage. As his fists clenched and he started toward me, I roundhouse kicked him in the belly.

He flew backwards and collided with the pillar behind him, clutching his stomach.

“What the f**k?” He wheezed. Good. “You’re crazy, bitch.”

When he stumbled to his feet and staggered forward, his dark eyes were filled with hatred.

His fingers tightened into a fist and he aimed what looked like a forceful haymaker at my head.

Shouldn’t signal your punches like that.

I ducked under him and came up with a swift upper cut to his jaw, listening to the satisfying crunch it made as my fist met bone.

Unfortunately, I hadn’t put enough force behind the punch. He didn’t go down as I’d intended. He just staggered sideways, off kilter, and fumbled for a barstool to hang onto.

“Who the f**k do you think you are?” he hissed. “Stupid bitch.”

My strength didn’t exactly match that of a normal human woman, especially one my size. He was clearly too drunk to register what I really was.

I grinned; that was his biggest mistake.

He got to his feet and tugged on his suit jacket, stumbling away and weaving through scattered barstools. He mumbled to himself as he went, but I didn’t bother to listen closely to what he had to say.

Instead, I moved cautiously back behind the bar, watching his progress. To my relief, he made a beeline for the exit and cursed as he yanked the door open with more force than necessary. Before he could walk out into the night, however, someone stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

We’d dimmed the lights in the bar hours ago, and at first I could only make out the man’s silhouette against the darkness.

I could tell that this guy was big, though. Bigger than the creep by a long shot, with a broad chest and shoulders.

It was then that I recognized his flannel shirt. The guy from the booth!

Huh. In the rush to help Tammy, I’d forgotten he was still here.

He wasn’t slumped in his booth anymore. He wasn’t swaying like the creep, either. On the contrary, he moved with the deliberateness of someone who was completely sober.

He leaned forward, saying something to the creep in a low voice. His face caught the light, and I got a good look at him at last.

God dammit.

“You,” I whispered. My heart sped up at the sight of someone I had never thought I’d see again.

Before I could process my thoughts or emotions, the creep swung his fist at the newcomer.

Oh, boy. Even bigger mistake.

The flannel-shirted guy moved so leisurely it almost seemed like slow motion. He hit the creep in the face with one brutal blow, and the douchebag went down like a lead f*****g balloon.