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Alyssa's Wolves (Wolf Masters, Book 4)(3)

By:Becca Jameson


“Yes,” she mumbled. Fear climbed her spine. They were attractive enough, and she knew deep down she’d do anything if they’d just take her with them wherever they were going. She only hoped they wouldn’t take advantage and push her to have sex with them before she could even wrap her mind around the idea.

She knew about sex, but only because she was inquisitive. Not because anyone had told her much about it. She could read. There was a library in her town, a human library, and she’d read nearly everything in it over the years, even though most of the books never got checked out or came home with her to her parents’ house.

“Why?” The dark-haired man scooted over and motioned for her to take a seat on the bench with him. “You look exhausted. Like you ran all night.”

Alyssa hesitated and then sat. At least her legs would stop wobbling. Between her fear and her exhaustion, she was sure to collapse soon.

“I did.” She decided to be slightly forthcoming. Flat-out lying wouldn’t get her anywhere. They didn’t need to know the entire truth, just enough to be willing to aid her escape.

She kicked herself for not thinking this through ahead of time, but she’d never envisioned making her escape with shifters. This changed things. An idea formed in her head. “My boyfriend … he uh … hit me. I … uh … ran to get away. Would you be willing to take me with you? You are passing through, right?” God, don’t tell me they live near here and just happen to dine at a truck stop before sunrise.

“We are.” Tall-and-dark narrowed his gaze at her. “You’re on the run from a boyfriend? Where’s your family?”

Alyssa swallowed, a new habit. Probably her my-life-is-a-mess-and-I’m-scared-out-of-my-mind habit. Could she trust these guys? Or would they turn on her and take her back to her family?

She couldn’t risk it. She had to lie harder. “I’m not from around here. We … my boyfriend and I … were driving through this area when he became abusive. Drunk. He was drunk. And he slapped me. He, um, threatened to strangle me. So, I, um, ran. I’m sure he’s passed out in his truck somewhere. If you could just take me with you before he wakes up and looks for me I’d…” You’d what, smarty pants? “I’d do anything. Do either of you have mates?”

The blond gasped, and she whipped her head from the darker guy to the blue-eyed man across the table. “Anything? You must really be in a pickle.” His eyes narrowed, but he chuckled. Was that a good sign or bad? “I’m Reese, by the way.” He reached out a hand to shake hers. “And this is Charles.” He nodded in the direction of his friend. His hand still hovered across the table, but he withdrew it abruptly.

What’s the matter with you? She couldn’t even bring herself to withdraw her fist from her pocket to shake the man’s hand.

Charles cleared his throat, and Alyssa turned her attention back to him. “I can see you are definitely in a bind. Not sure I’m buying the whole story about the strangely abusive boyfriend, but obviously you need help. We’ll take you with us. Do you even care where we’re headed?”

Alyssa shook her head, relief allowing her to exhale long and hard. Had she been holding her breath?

Charles raised his eyebrows. “Worse than I thought.”

The waitress who’d given Alyssa a mug of coffee showed up, chomping on her gum and smiling broader than when she’d waited on Alyssa. “Hey, fellas. What can I get you?”

She cocked one hip to the side and propped her hand on it. The woman glanced at Alyssa for about half a second and then returned her gaze to the men, a sigh escaping her lips. Her blonde hair was done up high on her head and sprayed to the point of concrete. She was twice their age, at least, and yet she flirted relentlessly as though Alyssa were a mere bug she could stamp out while convincing these guys to pick her instead.

Reese shut his menu and looked up at the waitress. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Something’s come up. We’ll not be able to eat here after all. Please excuse us.” Reese stood.

Alyssa swallowed her tongue. Well, it felt like it. Were they going to leave her? Just walk out? The waitress paused in her chomping, her eyebrows raised in confusion. Finally, she huffed, turned, and walked away, mumbling incoherently.

Charles nudged Alyssa’s arm and nodded for her to stand. “Let’s go. I’m sure you’re starving, and we are too, but we’ll find something faster along the way. You don’t look like you want to hang out here chatting.”

Relief flooded Alyssa’s body. She let her shoulders drop several inches. They weren’t going to leave her. Thank God.