His reluctance hurts more than I care to admit. I've spent my entire life flying my freak flag, precisely because I know no one wants me in their club. I'm different. At least now I know why I'm different. How I'm different. But I guess it's too much to believe I'd fit in with other shifters just because I have a tail. They still don't want me.
We pull into a hidden driveway. Tank's shoulders relax a fraction. The thumping starts again. As we bounce down the gravel road, I hear muffled shouts. The thug must have loosened the tape over his mouth.
We ride around a wooded bend, and a tiny log cabin comes into view.
I gasp. "This is so cute."
"No one's supposed to know about this place except pack."
"You gonna get in trouble for bringing me here?"
Instead of answering, Tank grabs his black bag and gets out of the car. I scramble to follow, but when we reach the trunk, he puts out his hand. "Stand back, baby."
I take a step to the side.
He starts to open the tailgate and pauses. "Go stand over there." He points to a rock a few feet away.
"Why?"
"You know why. It's not safe."
"He's already seen me."
Tank whirls and picks me up, carrying me until my back hits a tree. He presses his hard body against mine. "Baby, are you going to stay right here while I deal with him, or do I have to tie you to this tree?"
My foxy bits throb, nipples tighten. Tie me up, big man. My lips part but no sound comes out. I'm staring at his lips, so supple considering what a manly-man he is. I want him to kiss me.
He does.
It's a hard, punishing kiss, and when he pulls away his eyes gleam yellow. He points a finger at me, his lips quirking. "Stay."
I roll my eyes but obey, happy I have a front row seat. I watch from a safe distance as Tank pulls open the bed, grabs the guy's feet, and yanks him out.
My gut clenches as Tank grapples with his captive, but he's a half a foot taller and fifty pounds heavier than the big thug. In no time, the man's on his knees, bound with tape.
"What the fuck?" the thug says.
"Shut up." Tank smacks him. "See this place?" he points. The truck is between the man and the cabin, so all he sees is wilderness around an empty road. "We're in the middle of nowhere. You have no rights. What did you want with the girl?"
"Foxfire Hines?"
Tank smacks him again. I cower a little; even though I know the controlled rage on Tank's face isn't directed at me.
"You don't speak her name. As far as I'm concerned, she doesn't exist for you after this moment."
"All right all right! It was the job, man, the job." The thug babbles for a few seconds until Tank cuts him off.
"What job?"
"I don't know. I got orders-get the girl, tie her up, get her into the trunk, and take her to the drop-off."
"Who else?"
"No one else. Just the girl. And I wasn't supposed to hurt her, just get her to the place, alive. I don't know anything else, I swear."
The more the thug talks, the more Tank looks like he's gonna murder him. "Where's the drop-off point?" he growls in a voice barely human.
The thug names an address.
I scramble to write it down. As my pen scrapes, the thug cranes his head my way.
Tank smacks him again and puts a hood over the man's head, securing it with duct tape. The man struggles but ends up on the ground, hogtied and helpless. Tank leaves him on the ground and comes my way.
"Go wait in the cabin. The key is under the mat."
"You gonna torture him?" I whisper.
"No. I'll dose him and drop him on the edge of town. He doesn't know anything. I already sent his plates and information to someone who can get more info on him. He's a local thug, and he's telling the truth."
"How do you know?"
"I can smell it if he lies."
I shiver.
"Baby, go wait in the cabin."
When Tank comes in to get me, he's on the phone with someone named Jackson, reading off the address the thug gave us. "You can text me what you find."
I follow him out, and he motions for me to get in the truck. The thug is already in, the black bag behind my seat. "All right. Thanks."
"Who was that?" I ask when he hangs up.
"Friends. They're good at digging stuff up on the Internet. They're gonna look deeper and tell me what's going on."
"Werewolves?"
"Yeah, but not pack."
"You're helping a lot," I say as Tank climbs in.
He grunts and rummages around the scary black bag. I hold my breath, but he only tosses me a protein bar.
"Thanks. Got any water?"
Tank offers a bottle up but pulls it away when I reach for it.
"We're not stopping until Flagstaff," he warns.
I grin. "I just peed, but thanks for the warning." He rolls his eyes while I smirk, but I only take a few sips from the bottle before closing it up. No sense stopping while we have a drugged guy in the back.
We're off the main route now, taking back roads. Trees whip by. How many wolves roam this national forest? Coyotes? Foxes?
"You said before that my fox is shy?" I ask.
"I think she hid until she knew it was safe to come out."
"How did she know it was safe?"
He doesn't answer.
"Was it because she sensed your wolf? Or was scared of your wolf?"
More miles go by. Tank's profile doesn't change. Apparently, threatening a thug and going to save my mother isn't the bonding experience I thought it was. If anything, he looks more closed off.
"Look," I sigh, "I know you hate me, but-"
"I don't hate you."
"You think I'm annoying, then."
His head jerks no.
"Then what is it? Why won't you talk to me?"
"It's better this way," he mutters.