Werewolf Gambit

Chapter 2

Chortles and guffaws rose behind me, but I knew I needed to get out of there, because right behind that tidal wave of rage, an earthquake was beginning to shudder and if it hit before I was alone, it was me they'd be laughing at.

"Chelsy

"Don't say my name ever again," I snarled. "Don't speak to me, don't speak about me, and don't even f*****g think of me you needle-d**k bastard."

Gasps and laughter rose around me as I turned on my heel. One girl leaning against the wall held her hand up for a high five as I stormed past, and I slapped it because I didn't know what else to do.

I was practically running for the stairwell, heart pounding, eyes and throat pinching, praying I'd make it back to my own room before the dam on my tears broke.

"I can't believe I'm so stupid!" I wailed.

It was the next day. I had skipped school and was sitting at home with my parents at the dining table, my face in my hands, because even thinking about that moment made me blush furiously and the tears rush back to blur my vision.

"Chelsy, it's not your fault. He was lying!" My mother put a hand on my shoulder.

“I knew it! I knew that little prick has issues” my father frowned as he leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms folded.

"John, stop," my mother sighed.

Dad was furious. I called my mom on the drive home and she told me I'd done the right thing by confronting him. Dad was listening to the conversation and told me to come home, that we'd figure out what to do from here together.

"My life is over and I'm only eighteen."

My parents gave each other one of those looks they had, where neither of them said anything, but they somehow had an entire conversation.

God, they were sickening. My parents were old and still in love with each other and I'd thought I was going to have that with Denver and now... now it was just one more punch in the gut every time I saw my dad squeeze my mother's ass, or my mom lean into his chest when she thought I wasn't watching.

But I had nowhere else to go. I came to Chandler to be with Denver, and now he had ruined everything. How could I stay here and face these people every day when they knew what he had done?

What the hell was I going to do?

I still didn't have any answers for that a couple hours later when I stood at the kitchen sink getting a glass of water and movement outside causing my eye.

A tall, dark-haired man with the broadest shoulders I'd ever seen was leaning into the other side of a car in the neighbor's

driveway.

As he straightened, he caught sight of me watching and froze.

Our eyes locked.

My breath stopped. My senses were overwhelmed: I guessed he was about thirty years old because he was very handsome, but his face was kind of rugged. His muscles pressed against the seams of his shirt. The collar of his shirt was open at the throat.

His dark hair needed a cut, so it dusted his ears and collar. And he had a wide, square jaw with a hint of stubble that made the shadows on it look darker, high cheekbones, and the most incredible eyes.

He was too far away for me to see the color clearly, but his eyes were so bright... almost chilling. And there was something in them that twanged low in my belly.

His eyes widened, and for a split-second that icy gaze turned hot. My heart slammed against my ribs.

Then he blinked and the moment was lost.

Suddenly, he tore his eyes from mine, turned quickly away from the car and stalked towards the house in long, loping strides that hinted at a rock-hard body under those clothes.

I frowned when I realized where he was going. That house had been empty for months. But to my surprise, he jumped the three steps up to the porch in a single long stride, then stopped at the door

"What's going on?" Mom asked, coming to stand next to me and look outside.

"Some guy is trying to get into the Thompson's old house?"

"Oh, yes. Caden. Your father met him. He moved in last weekend. I've been meaning to go introduce myself and take him some food.." Then she brightened. "Hey, since you're home today, how would you feel about making him some of

your cookies?"

I gaped at her. "Mom!"

"I'm sorry, honey, but yours are always so much better than mine! And it'll give you something to do while Dad and I play golf this afternoon?"

Ugh. Seriously? I looked back over my shoulder at that door, looking for an excuse not to do it, but then that moment when our eyes had locked flashed in my mind. Denver used to look at me like that sometimes, back in high school. Back when we were waiting. I knew what that look meant.

Sick, churning pain started in my stomach at the reminder of Denver, but I shook it off.

Mom squeezed my shoulder. "Chelsy, you know focusing on others is the best way to move past your own pain. He's been here a week and I haven't seen any other cars in his driveway or anything. I've been meaning to make him a meal. I think he's really alone."

Ugh. I sighed. "Fine."

"Thank you, sweetheart." She kissed my cheek, then whispered in my ear. "But he's way too old for you, so don't even think about it."

"Mom! Gross!"

But she just gave me a mischievous look and winked. Which was when my water glass overflowed over my hand. I swore and turned off the faucet, shaking my hand dry.

"You're not funny!"

"Your father thinks I am," she said as she sailed out of the room.

I poked my tongue out at her over my shoulder, but she was already gone.

I was left standing there alone again. When I turned back to the window I found that he was still there at the door, but now he had it open and was staring at me over his shoulder.

For a moment neither of us moved. Then he frowned and disappeared inside.