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A Wifey for the Bad Boy(36)

By:Ava May


Groaning, Melinda lowered her head to her pillow while she groped Andrew’s muscular arms. “What time is it?”

“Don’t care,” Andrew whispered. “Too early.”

She agreed with the sentiment and closed her eyes.

“KANE!”

She and Andrew jumped up into sitting positions, her hand squeezing his arm now. Her other hand was clawing into the comforter in her lap.

The knocking on the door became louder and heavier, like someone was trying to break through the surface. “KANE!”

“That sounds like Travis,” Melinda whispered. She hated how panic iced her veins and made her shake. Even while holding on to Andrew, the fear of Travis still weighed heavily upon her. “What is he even doing here?”

“KANE! Where’s my girl?!”

She stiffened.

Andrew got out of bed, his hand gently grabbing hers when she refused to let him go. “I’ll handle this.”

She was shaking harder now. Her nails clawed into Andrew’s bicep. “Andrew—”

The front door groaned and splintered. “KANE! Where is she?!”

Andrew tore out of her grip and headed for the door. “Travis, get the hell out of here before I call the cops!”

Melinda grabbed the comforter, but it wasn’t nearly as reassuring as the feel of Andrew had been. Her lungs constricting, she stared wide-eyed at the darkness—at the impending threat she could not see.

She heard Andrew walking away from them bed. By the time he got close to the front door, it had burst open.

Melinda screamed, jumping back.

There was a little light in the hallway, and it illuminated the outline of Travis’s heaving form. However, his face and the front of his torso were hidden in black shadows; he looked monstrous.

“Here?” Travis choked out, sounding pained. “She’s here with you?”

Melinda tensed.

Andrew snarled, “Get out!”

Andrew’s body blocked Travis’s from view, but only for a few seconds. Then Travis, screaming obscenities, tackled Andrew to the ground.

Melinda scrambled out of bed, her heart racing and her skin burning. She could hear the men fighting and shouting at each other somewhere on the floor, but she could barely see them; she couldn’t even make out which man was which, for they looked like one dark blob convulsing on the ground.

“Stop it!” she cried, forcing herself to move toward them—toward Andrew. “Travis, stop it! I’ll call the cops!”

Melinda had never expected for Travis to lunge for her. More startled than afraid when such a thing occurred, she cried out as their bodies tumbled over the wooden floor.

“I loved you!” he sobbed, alcohol on his breath.

Fear bursting within her anew, she flailed beneath him in a feeble attempt to escape. She kicked and punched him, but he barely moved. Though she was bigger and stronger than most women, Travis was probably too drunk to really be hurt by her assaults.

He brought his hands to her throat, and Melinda managed to get out a quick scream before he cut off her air source.

Andrew, she thought as her chest began to burn. Where was her Andrew?

An ungodly roar erupted inside the room, the walls shaking and the floors quaking in response.

Melinda nearly fainted, her blood tingling while the rest of her went stock-cold.

Travis was thrown off of her and across the room, his body slamming into the wall before collapsing to the ground. He screamed, tripped over himself, and then ran out of the apartment in uneven steps.

Melinda didn’t pay him any more attention. Her widened eyes were glued to the massive thing standing in the apartment. The hallway’s weak light revealed the creature’s fur and snout—its teeth, slobbering dripping from them—but the creature’s eyes seemed to glow all on its own.

Melinda hadn’t ever thought about whether or not it was possible to die from fright alone, but now that her body seemed to be shriveling up and burning beneath the power of her deathly panic, she truly believed that she would die before the monster ever reached her.

Then, the creature closed its mouth and bowed forward. Slowly, it shrank, its fur disappearing and its eyes becoming more…human. Within a moment, it seemed to have collapsed in on itself until it retained the shape of a man.

Melinda’s head spun. She hadn’t breathed in several seconds, and she couldn’t muster the strength to do so now.

“Mel,” Andrew whispered. He was—the man-shape was crawling toward her. “Mel, it’s okay. It’s me.”

Andrew. Andrew was…what?

It took her much too long to process all that she had witnessed. It wasn’t until Andrew laid his trembling fingers on her arm did she react.

Screaming, Melinda flung herself back. Breath entered and exited her lungs at a rapid, desperate pace, the need for escape searing through her very being.