“It won’t happen again.” She fisted her hand under the water. It would be so easy to claw out his eyes. Betsy bit down on her lip. Where did those thoughts even come from?
“That’s right, it won’t. Do I need to remind you what my daddy will do to your daddy if I don’t tell him each and every day that you are obeying my ever wish?” Nathan ran his hand down the side of her face. “Do I need to remind you what they did? How they were selling babies? Taking them from their mamas and selling them to God knows who? Do you even know how disgusting that is?”
She did, actually. Her body shook like it always did when they had this discussion. She could still see the scene she’d encountered in the basement. The way the baby her mother had held had cried. Her mother’s stuttering response to where the child had come from…the guilt in the other woman’s eyes, and the ugly sound of Nathan’s father’s footsteps as he tore into the house. Why had she thought her parents needed a soundproof basement to make moonshine? All the lies, all the years.
“Do you want them dead? Or in jail? They’re only being kept alive because of you.”
She opened her eyes and relaxed her jaw. “No. Please don’t harm them.”
Even though some days—when she felt disloyal—she did want them in jail. Her parents deserved to be put away. But how could she allow herself to feel that way? They’d raised her, and she hadn’t been easy with all the stuff she’d pulled. And when her sexual needs had started…
Her parents had to find money some way to pay off the police from the time she’d broken into the mill, her father had explained. The whole thing was really her fault. Maybe if she had moved out when she’d turned eighteen? But then how could her mother have managed the house without her? And, besides, she had loved her parents. For their faults, they’d kept a roof over head and food in her stomach. Even when the incidents had happened, they hadn’t seemed particularly upset.
“I have been patient waiting for the toxins of those other men to leave your system. Soon, after we say ‘I do,’ you’ll belong to me. And then vengeance is mine if you even think of another man.”
“I…”
The front door flew open. She heard the sound of it crashing into the table next to the door. Someone would really have to bang it hard to hit like that.
“What the…?” Nathan let go of her and stepped back, his eyes getting huge. “There’s a wolf in the house.” He screamed like a woman, and she whirled around, the sharp, loud noise drowning all other sound until it stopped abruptly when Nathan charged out the back door toward the street.
Betsy knew she should be running after him, but she stood frozen to the floor. The wolf in front of her held her entire attention. He was beautiful, bigger than any wolf she’d ever seen in the wild. He had gray fur with black spots. His eyes were blue, which really stood out from the rest of his body. The creature focused on her, and she couldn’t help but stare right back.
Where had she seen eyes like that before? The knowledge hid in the corner of her mind, like an itch she wanted to scratch, before it quickly faded away.
She swallowed past her dry throat. Where had this tremendous creature come from, and why had he busted through their door?
He growled at the back door, crouching low as though he intended to chase after Nathan.
“I think he’s gone.”
This must be how it feels to lose your mind. Why wasn’t she running for her life? Why was she talking to him? Why did she assume he could understand a word she said? A giant wolf stood in her kitchen—smack in the middle of Brooklyn.
He huffed. Or at least she thought it was a male. How could she know for sure? Maybe it was a female wolf. The wolf narrowed his eyes at her, and she put her hand up to her throat. Was this some kind of punishment? Were her sins going to be handled by some old-fashioned, primal vengeance? Had the universe decided to let her be torn to pieces by a canine with huge teeth? Her mind refused to accept what she saw. My what big teeth you have…
One second she stared at the wolf, and the next second he began to change. The face reshaped, elongating until it didn’t look the same. The body followed suit. In seconds, it had shed its fur and, in its place, was a human being.
She’d been calm—maybe shocked—when she’d seen the wolf, but now all the fear she’d not felt seconds earlier rushed inside of her like a dam releasing its water. This was wrong—this didn’t happen—wolves didn’t suddenly become humans. That only happened in fairytales and horror movies.
Except this was happening. She darted backward, hitting the table behind her. She banged her hip and knocked over a decorative lamp. Not that she cared. It was Nathan’s lamp. She hated the thing. Oh sheesh. Why was she thinking about the lamp when a wolf magically changed into something else right in front of her?