Wolf (The Henchmen MC 3)

My hands went to his wrists, closing around them. "I know that. I was... deflecting," I admitted with a shrug.

"Why?"

Augh. Why was he always so curious?

"Because I don't know why I haven't tried to choke you or knock you over the head with something, catch you unaware in the shower or something. I'm losing my edge."

"Nah."

"Then what other explanation could you have for it? You dragged me here when I demanded you take me to my car. Then you stole my clothes and you trapped me in here with your hell beasts..."

"And..." he prompted and I knew where he was going with that too.

I sighed. "And got me off the side of the road where I was losing my shit and the cops were bound to find me. And you wrapped up my arm and bought me books and..."

"You wanna be here."

"What? No!" I objected a little too quickly.

"Yeah you do," he said, giving me a small smile.

"No. I need to get to my car and get my clothes and phone and cash and I need to get the hell out of here before Reign, Charles Mallick, Lo, Richard Lyon, and Lex Keith find out I was the one who set the bombs."

"Need isn't want," he picked the part of my argument that went in his favor. He was right, annoyingly, obnoxiously right. I needed to get out of town; I didn't want to.

"Well I need to stay alive or I won't be wanting anything anymore," I reasoned, sounding a bit more like I was trying to convince myself, not him.

"Janie," he said, his thumb stroking across my cheek.

"What?" I asked when he didn't go on.

"Won't let em hurt you."

His words and the sincerity with which he said them had my insides doing that gooey thing again. But still... "I know you want to believe that, Wolf, but you're one person. And you know as well as I do that your brotherhood to The Henchmen is supposed to trump all. Reign is going to be furious enough when he finds out you knew who set the bombs and didn't tell him. He would blow a fucking gasket if you tried to stand between me and him."

"Doesn't hurt women," he objected, shaking his head.

"Maybe that's only because a woman has never fucked with his empire before," I reasoned. "And it's not just about Reign. He's the least of my worries."

"If it's..."

"Don't," I interrupted, squeezing his wrists. "Just don't." I couldn't take it, hearing Lex's name on his lips after he knew what happened to me. It would feel wrong. They were different parts of my world and I didn't want them crossing paths.

"Okay," he said, dropping his hands from my face. "Come on," he said, getting back onto his feet and moving across the room.

"Come where?" I asked, watching him as I straightened. He waved a hand toward the door and I snorted, waving a hand at my body. "Um... it's freezing out there and I don't even have panties on," I said flippantly and regretted it the second his eyes got heated, got hungry. Okay, well, I didn't regret it exactly, but I realized my mistake. But to my relief (or utter disappointment, I couldn't decide), he took a deep breath, gave me a stiff nod and made his way toward the closet. A second later, he came out with my clothes from a couple days before, cleaned and folded.

Um, yeah, so I needed to get a good look around that closet sometime. Apparently he kept literally everything of worth in there. You know... like my underwear.

He crossed to me, pushing the clothes at me. I took them, my head cocking. "What are we going to do?"

"Get dressed," he said, moving toward the door and going outside.

Right then. I shimmied into my panties then pulled my pants up my legs, feeling strange and constricting after several days not wearing any pants at all. I left on Wolf's tee, but tucked it in and grabbed his flannel off the hanger by the door as I slipped into my boots. It wasn't high fashion, but it would do.

I was almost a little giddy as I reached for the door handle to see what he had in store for me.

Wolf, shockingly, seemed rather full of surprises.NINEJanie"Target practice?" I asked after we trudged silently through the woods for a good ten minutes before we came to a clearing where he had half a dozen targets set up at various distances. I watched as he pulled a gun out of the waistband of his jeans and checked the clip.

"Seen you shoot," he said casually.

"I'm a good shot!" I immediately bristled. I was. I never missed a target. Ever. So maybe I didn't always (okay, maybe I hardly ever) hit the bullseye, but still. I knew how to handle and point a gun.

"Good ain't great," he said on a shrug, holding the gun out toward me.

"You really think you should be handing me a gun after insulting me?" I asked in a grumpy tone. Inside, though, I was doing an obnoxious little happy dance. After eight years of training seven days a week at Hailstorm where having two broken arms could barely be considered an excuse for missing target practice, I was unused to inaction. I was beyond excited to get back to some sort of training, especially if he thought he could improve my aim.

He shoved the gun into my hand and held out his arms wide. "Wanna shoot, shoot," he taunted, knowing there was no way I was going to shoot him.

On a smile, I turned toward the closest target, aimed, and shot. It was barely a seven. Christ. To my side, I could see Wolf nod then move toward me, stepping behind me.

"Stop closing your eye," he commanded, lifting my hand again and kicking my legs a little wider. "Shoot." I shot and hit almost the same spot. Wolf made some kind of grunting noise. "Jerky," he said, and I heard jingling like change in a pocket. About a second later, I realized I was right because he reached around my body and placed a coin on the sight. "Shoot."