Then the man stands, pulling the chain on his handcuffs taut. "You don't know what I am, do you?"
There's an odd triumph in the other man's face that makes the back of his neck prickle with warning.
"You don't know what you are," he says in a low voice, the corners of his mouth curving.
The door bursts open and a small blonde in a suit and heels stomps in, flanked by two cops. The cops seem oddly protective of her, even though if she's an attorney-and he'd bet she is-she can't be on their side.
"Step away from my client, Agent Dune." Her voice is ice cold. "Did you break his nose?"
"He came in with a broken nose."
The pretty attorney shakes her head. "That looks like a fresh break to me."
So Blondie must know what he is, or she wouldn't know how fast the guy heals. Good to know.
"You have no right to hold my client here. No charges have been filed and he hasn't broken any laws. I demand he be released, immediately."
Dune shrugs even though he was just getting somewhere with Jared Johnson. Making ripples with the locals would only cause more hassle. Better to cut him loose and set up surveillance.
Later, in a moment of total honesty, he'd admit to himself he was unnerved by what the man had said. How had he known?
Angelina
Shock careens through me as we drive away from the warehouse. Both my parents are yelling at me at once, but I have no idea what they're saying.
What in the hell just happened?
Jared was fighting in a cage?
My dad drives straight to my parents' house. I think there was some discussion about taking me there instead of home, but I can't remember-I was too busy replaying the surreal scenes back at the warehouse.
Why did they take Jared away in cuffs? Did he do something wrong? He's not a criminal. He can't be.
Can he?
I realize I don't know enough about Jared and how he gets his money. How does he have enough to rent that huge warehouse on a bouncer's income? Does he have some other, less legal source of funds?
But I quickly reject the idea. No. Not Jared. He's too honorable.
"Go and take a shower," my mother orders as soon as we're inside. "You're disgusting."
I look down at my clothes, but there's nothing on me. Oh wait-one splatter of blood. I do as she orders, only because I can't really think for myself at this moment and a shower might help.
Unfortunately, it's the worst choice ever, because all I can think about is that incredible shower with Jared. The one where he worshipped my body and made me feel like a goddess. The one where he gave me something significant. Something I don't think he's shared with anyone else.
Or is that just my fantasy talking?
I don't really know what's real and what's not anymore. Werewolves? Vampires? Fighting in a cage?
It all seems so impossible. I step out of the shower and dry off. In my childhood bedroom, I throw on an old pair of sweats and tank top and crawl into my bed.
Being here, in my old room, makes me feel so small. Was it just yesterday I felt like anything was possible?
Now I'm suffocating under my parent's roof like a teenager again.
I don't know how long I lie there. An hour or two. And then I hear the sound of a motorcycle.
I run for the balcony off my bedroom and throw open the door.
"Jared!"
He's off the bike and running toward the balcony in a flash. "Angelina-are you all right? Were you hurt at all?"
My chest tightens. He just got a boot in the ribs and taken away to the police station in handcuffs, and he's asking if I'm all right?"
I lean over the rail, trying to get a closer look at him. His shirt's covered in blood, but he appears fine. Well, of course he does-I've seen first hand how fast he heals. "Are you all right? What happened with the police, Jared?"
He shakes his head. "It was just a misunderstanding. Everything's fine-no charges filed."
I swallow. "What was that fight?" My throat is tight and pressure builds behind my eyes.
Regret washes over Jared's expression. "Let me come up there, baby. I need to see you up close. Talk face to face."
I give a wobbly nod and start to head for the door to let him in, but he's already scaling the rain spout, then spider-walking sideways along the top of a downstairs window casing to reach the balcony.
And that's when all hell breaks loose.
My dad bursts outside as Jared swings on leg over the rail. He's pointing a gun-yes, a gun. I didn't even know he owned a gun!
"Turn around, and go right back down the way you came," my dad growls. "I've already called the police. I doubt you want a second trip to the station tonight."
"Dad, stop. This is crazy. Jared's just trying to talk-"
"Leave. Now."
"Listen, Mr. Baker-"
My dad takes a menacing step forward and I fly between them. "This is crazy. Dad, you need to leave."
"Mr. Baker, I'm-"
"The hell I'm going to leave," my dad roars. "This is my house. My property he's trespassing on." He leans around me to level the gun at Jared again. "Get out of here. Don't ever contact my daughter again. If you do, I will make your life a living hell. Understand?"
"That's enough!" I shout, turning to face my dad head on. "You don't get to make those decisions for me."
"The hell I don't. My daughter will not run around with a member of a motorcycle gang who gets in fights for the fun of it. You are so far beneath her, it's laughable. Go back to the rock you crawled out from."