Running Wild : The Cruel Alpha Kings

Chapter 5

Jace spun me around and shoved me hard against the side of the car, locking my hands together behind my back and pinning me there with his full weight. The fiberglass of the Corvette compressed against my spine. The heavy, metallic scent of blood hit my nose a second before his hot breath brushed against my ear, low and dangerously quiet. “You’re going to regret that.”

“I already regret a lot of things,” I wheezed, struggling to force the words out through my flattened lungs. Fury burned hot through my veins, demanding an outlet. The sheer need for vengeance was clawing at the back of my throat. “Beating the s**t out of you isn’t one of them.”

He cursed under his breath, pulling one hand away from my wrists to wipe at the fresh smear of red traveling down his lip. Sucker.

“How does it feel to get beat up by a girl?” I pressed, refusing to give him a single inch. “Does it taste as bad as setting someone up, Jace?”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” He bared his teeth, his grip tightening.

“No, wait. It doesn’t taste nearly as bad as getting framed,” I snapped back. “You lost me a full year of my life. There is nothing left of my reputation but shitty scraps. Tell me, how much did my dad pay you to do it?”

Jace stiffened completely, his body locking up against mine. His brows furrowed into a taut, heavy frown. I saw the flash of recognition—or guilt—cross his face. Ha, I knew it.

“Come again?” he asked, his voice dropping.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“Elise.” He leaned back just enough to look down at me, his butterscotch eyes narrowing to slits. “I swear to God I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

A low hiss escaped my lips. The frown on his bloody face only deepened, his expression twisting into something that almost looked like genuine confusion.

I was not fooled, though.

“Really? Then what do you call this?” I tried to wrench my wrists free from his steel grip to point at the barbed-wire facility looming right behind us, but he didn’t budge. Frustrated, I jerked my head toward the fences instead, far too forcefully. A sharp, blinding muscle spasm shot straight down my neck. I cursed aloud, flinching from the sudden stab of pain.

Jace noticed the jerk of my shoulders instantly. Moving without a second thought, he placed his palm flat against the back of my neck, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they began to massage the knotted muscle.

“Hey, careful,” he muttered, his voice shifting. “Why don’t you take a few deep breaths and talk to me? Explain what I’m missing here. What is this about you blaming me for setting you up?”

The raw irritation was entirely gone from his voice, replaced by that smooth, sweet-talking cadence he always used to get his way.

Another wave of pure anger spiked through my body. How dare he play the saint with me now? He knew exactly what he did. Without thinking through the consequences, I snapped my head forward and drove my forehead straight into the center of his face.

Another wet, heavy crack echoed across the gravel. If I hadn’t fully broken his nose with the first punch, it was definitely broken now.

“Motherfucker!” Jace shouted, releasing my hands and stumbling backward. He cupped both palms over his face, his frame shaking. He lowered his hands for a fraction of a second, absolute incredulity clouding his expression as he stared down at the dark, thick blood staining his skin, before covering his nose again. “You little bitch.”

“That’s for setting me up,” I snapped, stepping into his space and delivering a hard shove right to his chest. “For handing me over to the cops and watching them drag me away.”

“I didn’t set you up!” he roared back, his voice muffled behind his hands. It was a completely futile attempt to stop the damage; the blood was oozing in great amounts past his fingers, dripping onto the dirt. He spat a mouthful of red onto the gravel, cursing violently, before gripping the hem of his shirt and tearing it completely off his body.

My eyes narrowed on his built, bronze chest for a split second. A dismissive sigh escaped my lips.

Thick, crimson blood escaped from beneath his fingers, snaking its way down the column of his throat before pooling in the deep collarbone grooves of his chest. From there, it tracked lower, a dark red line carving a slow path through the defined rivulets of his abdominal muscles. It was a devastatingly beautiful sight, a brutal reminder of the raw, untamed power beneath his skin.

Any lingering appreciation died the instant he balled up the fabric of his shirt. Pressing it hard against his streaming nose, he stalked back toward me. The boyish, cute, and snarky guy I used to know was entirely gone, replaced by a predator that had finally locked onto its prey.

His face was rigid, dark, and murderous. It was the kind of expression usually reserved for the enforcers, or someone like Hunter and Darius. Looking into his eyes, I knew I had finally pushed him past his limit.

I tried to reassure myself that he deserved every bit of it, but I couldn’t stop the cold prickle of panic swelling inside my chest as he closed the distance.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice vibrating in his chest. “I’m done playing nice with you.”

My shoulder blades hit the fiberglass side of the Corvette.

“I don’t know how you came to the conclusion that I set you up,” he snarled, pushing into my personal space, “but I’m past the point of giving a shit.”

His free hand shot out toward my shoulder. I ducked beneath his arm just in time, slipping past his flank and making a mad dash around the hood of the car. He growled furiously behind me, the sound distinctly animalistic. I paused hesitantly on the driver’s side, my hands gripping the frame as I calculated my options. I could make a run for it on foot and try to reach the highway, or I could stay put, let him catch me, and face whatever he was about to dish out.

Based on his expression, I really didn’t want to find out what that was.

My heart hammered so loudly it drowned out the ambient noise of the parking lot. I prepped my body to shift into wolf form to run, but then my eyes locked onto the interior. The keys were dangling in the ignition, and the sports car’s engine was still purring.

“If you think you’re going to outrun me,” Jace gruffed, rounding the front bumper with heavy, calculated strides, “you forgot who I am.”

“Stupid gold-medalist piece of crap, that’s who.”

An angry roar tore from his throat. He tossed his bloody shirt aside and lunged across the hood to grab me. I yanked the door open, dove straight into the leather driver’s seat, and slammed it shut, pulling the lock down a fraction of a second before his body collided with the glass.

I threw him a middle finger through the window and shifted the Stingray into reverse.

The look of utter shock on his face was glorious. I knew he’d be even more furious if he knew what I was planning to do with his prized car once I made it back to the estate and didn’t need it anymore.

There was nothing he could do about it now. Gold-medalist wolf or not, there was no way a person on foot could keep pace with a Stingray. By the time he managed to cover the miles back to town, I’d be safely secured inside my father’s mansion, well out of his reach.

“You’re going to regret this!” Jace shouted, sprinting hard after the car as I threw it into drive.

In the rearview mirror, his eyes flashed a bright, dangerous butterscotch as his wolf struggled to break through the surface, but the car was already gaining speed, leaving him behind in a cloud of dust and gravel.

“Payback’s a b***h and so are you!” I shouted into the empty cabin, letting out a wild, maniacal laugh as I slammed my foot onto the gas and made a straight beeline for the highway.