22
I glanced at the clock. It was almost the end of her shift. “I’ll drop you off at home,” I offered. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” I wouldn’t let her take a cab home this late, not on my watch. I’d seen the way some of the construction workers had leered at her earlier, which had sent a primal anger curling through my gut. “Can you just let me do this one thing?” I pleaded. “Okay.” I watched her shrug off her apron and say something to the big guy behind the counter too. Then we both squeezed past the crowded area and headed toward the door. Just before we got to the door, from the corner of my eyes, I saw a wolf snake his hand behind Arlene and grab her backside. A scream tore from Arlene, which quickly turned into a guttural snarl as her wolf surged to the surface. The wolf
- Writer
