I watch as the vehicle comes closer and parks about fifty feet from me. I recognize Patricia’s truck and my fists ball by my side of this woman’s audacity. Not only did she kill Patricia, but she is also riding around in her truck like she is allowed to.
With arms crossed, I watch as numerous wolves get out along with Moira and Logan. It takes every bit of self-control to keep my emotions to myself. Logan is still blindfolded and white like death, his wound bleeding through the bandage. His hands are tied in front of him. Moira is looking at me with a conceited smile plastered on her face and I am yearning to slap that smug smile right off.
She gets hold of Logan’s arm and drags him five steps forward while the wolves remain at the truck.
“You said it was just going to be me and you,” I
