The Pack: Rule Number 1 - No Mates

Chapter Eighteen

DRAVEN

I knew it. He likes me.

I squeal to myself after the two of them leave. Smiling and dancing around the condo, I wash up what was left of our failed dinner and then head upstairs wanting to be clean and pristine for my night with Domonic. Even though I’m not planning to get naked for him, I need all surfaces of my body smelling like heaven and every inch of me soft as a baby’s bottom.

So naturally, I get into the large jacuzzi tub with bubbles, bath salts, and a fresh new razor. I soak for about thirty minutes before hopping into the shower for a final rinse.

Wrapped in a towel in front of the mirror, I smile at my reflection. I’m not nearly as haggard as I had been when I first arrived in this wonderful town. Studying my body, I realize something amazing. My bruises are practically gone. How in the world they had faded so quickly, I would never know.

Maybe because I haven’t been stressed?

Or perhaps all the good food I’ve been eating?

Exiting the bathroom with a huge smile on my face, I slip on bright red thong and forgo the bra. Then I dress in a pair of lowrider jeans and a tight, vee cut black top. one that dips so low in the front that my nipples are barely hidden by the neckline. Grabbing my phone off the nightstand I hit Domonic’s contact and traipse down the stairs. Realizing I probably shouldn’t disturb his meeting just because I am dressed and ready, I don’t make the call.

“Sometimes I can be so lame,” I say to myself, just as the doorbell sounds.

Who the hell can that be?

I reach for the deadbolt to unlock it then my hand freezes on the latch. Something inside of me buzzes to life. A sliver of fear slithering

up my spine.

The hairs on the back of my neck are standing at attention and I suddenly feel extremely alone.

Don’t panic, just breathe.

It can’t be Domonic.

It can’t be one of his friends.

Maybe a neighbor? Or maybe a salesman?

-Margo?

answer the door.

the peephole I peer

Nothing. No one.

one

first time that the shades are still open. The yard is clear. No one in sight. But something is nagging at me, and I

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Chapter Eighteen

have felt this before. This sensation of fear, of being

out at the foggy evening beyond the glass. I rip my eyes away and look down at the phone

rings only

‘Draven? What’s wrong?”

“I–I’m scared.”

“What?”

the doorbell, and

“Someone rang the doorbell?”

and there’s nobody out there. This might sound stupid but

never have left you

Says a voice in the background that

not hang up,

spinning in a short circle to

are the

on the other end of the line. Car doors slamming,

this way.

“Y–yes.”

hear the screech

scan the yard and as slowly and carefully as you can. Take note of

“O–okay.”

or around the yard. The sound of angry sets of tires ripping up the asphalt fills my ears, and I began

street, I whisper,

and his

ago falling away from my body as he and

as he reaches me at the foot of the stairs.

lifting me off my feet and carrying me toward the back of the main house. “I’ve got you,” he says, staring down at me with stormy gray eyes.