Primal Heat(Wild Lake Wolves Book 3)(12)

"Oh, stay for another hour. Please?" Kendra put her hands on my  shoulders and shook me gently. "Don't leave me here with all these gross  boys."

I reached up and tousled her hair. "Nice try. I drank too much and I  don't feel like third wheeling it anymore. You guys have fun, but be  careful. I'll catch up with you tomorrow."

I slid my phone out of my pocket and gave them a last wave as I headed  out the back entrance. It would be quieter there while I pulled up the  app on my phone. I just hoped I wouldn't have to wait very long. Leaning  against the brick wall, I plugged my location into the phone and  waited. My vision blurred a little and my stomach lurched. Bad tequila.  Bad. I slid down and sat on the cement ledge that ran around the  building. The steel door opened and I felt a blast of heat from inside  the bar. The bass pumped from the dancefloor along with peals of  laughter that rose and fell as the door shut.

"Damn. You hustled out of there quick. We just started talking." Cal  plopped on the ledge next to me and put a heavy arm around my shoulder.  "I was looking all over for you."

"Well, here I am." I dropped my shoulder and slid out from under his arm.

"Are you partied out? It's only ten. Why don't you let me take you for a cup of coffee or something?"

"I'm tired, Cal. It's been a long week. I'm heading home. I'll see you  in class on Monday, though. Thanks for the drink and the dance. You  know, I think I saw Mary Fink from Contracts checking you out. Last I  saw her she was over by the D.J."

Cal's eyes widened, but he didn't take the bait. He slid off the ledge  and stood directly in front of me, planting his hands on the wall on  either side of my head. This close, he was taller than I realized. And I  didn't like the look in his eyes one bit.

"Come on, Abs. Tell me how you like it working for the congressman. Is it everything you hoped it would be?"

I tried to duck out from under his arms, but Cal wouldn't budge. His  breath blew hot in my face and something changed in his eyes. Whether it  was the alcohol or something more sinister, it was as if he dropped the  mask of from his face.

"It's just you and me now. You can tell me. They picked you because you're a woman, and you're hot, didn't they?"

"What?"

"Everyone's talking about it. You know that, right? Ask Ken and Barbie if you don't believe me."

"Kendra and Darby. They don't appreciate the nicknames, Cal. You want me  to start telling you what people say about you behind your back?"

Cal's dark eyes flashed with menace and he pressed his forehead against  mine, the hard bones of his skull digging into me. "Well the rumor is,  Dale Thorp is uh, a little wilder than most men. What's that like?"

I shoved against Cal hard. I'd been buzzed before; now I was stone  sober. Blood roared in my ears and it took everything in me not to haul  off and land a right hook against his smugly set jaw. He took a  staggering step backward and nearly fell. The guy was drunker than I  realized. And possibly dangerous. He rounded on me and swung his arm.  Wincing, I took a step back thinking he was about to hit me. Instead, he  smacked his hand flat against the wall behind me and his unfocused eyes  widened.                       
       
           



       

"You like a little monster in your man? Is that it? The rougher the  better? I get it. It's all right. Nobody's judging you. Well, maybe  they're judging you a little. Can you blame them?"

"Cal. You're hammered. I'm turning around and I'm walking down to the  street corner. You stay the hell away from me. Whatever you're trying to  insinuate, you're full of shit. I'm working for the congressman because  I'm good at what I do."

"Trailer trash like you? I just bet you are."

I put up a hand and shook my head. I was one hundred percent done with  this asshole. Turning toward the street, I gripped my phone in my hand  and started walking. Three steps later, Cal had his hands on me, trying  to pull me back toward him. Adrenaline coursed through me, and this  time, when I turned, my curled fist made contact with his jaw.

"I said stay the hell away from me. You think you're the first drunk  asshole who's ever tried to put his hands on me? You're right, Cal.  Trailer trash like me? You just bet I can take care of myself."

He came at me, his steps halting, ungainly. But, his eyes held cold fury  and drunken lust. I'd seen that look a thousand times directed at my  mother from whatever loser she brought home. This one's different, she'd  say. He's got a decent job. He's going places. She was right, most of  the time. They usually ended up going to jail or splitting the second  they realized she had a kid. I suppose that made me lucky. Better that  than them thinking they'd get a two for one. Except for the one time one  of them did. That was Martin. He'd tried with me once, but I was old  enough to put up a fight. As Cal took another step toward me, I curled  my fist, ready to show him how much of a fighter I really was.

A shadow fell over Cal's face, and his eyes widened. As I stood there,  my shoulders square and my feet planted hard, ready to deck him again, a  blur of motion blew past me with the speed of a freight train. Later,  Cal might think that's exactly what hit him.

Strong arms lifted Cal of his feet, fisting his cotton t-shirt. A  furious pulse thundered in my ears, but it didn't feel like mine. This  one was heavier, filled with menace and fury.

Bas.

He shoved Cal hard against the brick wall and held him there, suspended a  foot off the ground. Cal's eyes went in and out of focus and a slow  trickle of drool ran from the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." His words ran together in a high-pitched stream.

Sweat beaded at Bas's temple. My mind raced to catch up with what my  eyes saw. Bas, standing with his legs slightly apart, holding up Cal's  entire weight with one hand. The muscles of his back and shoulders  bunched and rolled in a rippling wave beneath the stark white cotton of  his dress shirt.

He turned his head and looked at me, still holding Cal in place. Bas's  eyes were gone. His ice blue wolf eyes glinted under the street lamp.  Through gritted teeth that seemed to lengthen as he spoke he said, "Did  he hurt you?" It came out deep as a growl.

"I'm okay." In that split second, I realized something else. If I didn't  do something, he was going to rip Cal's throat out right in front of  me. I can't deny a small part of me wanted to see it. It was as though  my adrenaline fed off whatever was happening inside of Bas. His fury was  mine. His struggle to control whatever simmered inside of him churned  within me too. If one of us didn't get a hold of it fast, things were  about to take a murderous turn.

"I'm okay!" I went to him. Some part of my brain that still held reason  told me how dangerous that was. If he lost control, he could turn on me  just as easily as Cal. Except, he wouldn't. Reason was one thing, but I  was dealing with pure instinct. I reached out and put a hand on Bas's  forearm. His skin twitched and flared hot beneath my fingertips, sending  warmth straight through me like a quickening.

"Bas. Let him go. He can't hurt me."

Then Cal started to cry. Full on, blubbering, weeping. "Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh, God. I'm sorry. I wouldn't hurt her."

Bas turned his head and looked at Cal. Though his shoulders stiffened,  he didn't advance. He regarded Cal as if he'd sprouted a third eye. Bas  gave him a quick shove, then let him go with the same ferocious  quickness as he'd used to grab him in the first place. Cal crumpled to  the ground and curled into an honest to God fetal position.

"He's not worth it," I said.

Bas turned back to me. Coiled fury flashed behind his eyes; his pupils  widened but looked more human than wolf now. But, Bas's hand on the  small of my back was at once forceful and gentle as he led me away from  Cal and the alley. My skin sizzled where he touched me; my nerve endings  crackled with energy. His nostrils flared and I knew he felt it too.                       
       
           



       

Bas towered over me like a mountain as we walked toward the open  passenger door of his truck. He must have brought the vehicle to a  violent stop. I'd never even heard him drive up. The engine ran and it  was parked at a severe angle, its front wheels up on the curb at the end  of the alley.

"I'm taking you home, Abby." It was a command, not a question. Then,  whatever self-control Bas had seemed to melt away as he slid his hands  under my knees and swung me off my feet caveman-style. My body sang to  life at his touch and the primal strength of the action. Yes. Oh, yes.  I'd let him take me anywhere.