30
Savannah
“When do I get to try these babies out?” I stared down at my new kicks with glee as we drove back through the Flats. They were the most gorgeous black biker boots I’d ever seen.
I caught Jaxson watching me from the corner of my eye. He seemed pleased, less like the weight of the world was hanging on his shoulders. His arm hung out the window, and the eternal tension in his frame had relaxed. Slightly. Maybe below that brooding and cold exterior, he had a fun side.
“Let’s give them a spin now, if you’re up to it,” he said, turning into a parking lot beside the forested park he’d pointed out to me earlier. The lot was empty, and he pulled into a spot in front of the sign with Avery’s Point, Est. 1887 on it.
“Has your family been here that long?” I gestured to the date on the sign.
He got out of the truck. “You ask a lot of questions.”
Nope, I was wrong. There was nothing fun about Jaxson. I sighed and climbed out.
“My family has been here since the early eighteen-hundreds, when the island was founded,” he said. “Same as yours.”
Right. The feud ran deep. I recalled what Uncle Pe
te had said about the wolves grabbing land from the LaSalles, and I wondered if Jaxson and the pack saw it that way.
“Ready to run?” Jaxson asked with a glint in his eyes.
“I was born to run.” I tightened the laces and double-bowed them—no need to be tripping ass over tea kettle in front of him. “Anything I should know?”
“Start slow. They’ll take some getting used to. If you go too fast, you might feel unbalanced and lose control.”
Meaning I’ll go ass over tea kettle.
I had no idea how these beautiful boots were going to make me run faster. Hell, I’d probably trip and break my nose, but I didn’t care. They were the most comfortable shoes I’d ever stepped into. A soft-cushioned bed supported my arches, and my toes had room to spare. My heart had been sold the moment I’d slipped them on.
Jaxson took off into the woods at what seemed like a stroll for him, though for human legs, it was more like an Olympic sprint.
Here goes nothing.
I took two steps and surged forward, my feet moving like they had rockets attached to them. I stifled a shriek as I dodged a tree trunk and then a boulder, trying to wrap my mind around focusing on my feet while avoiding obstacles that were coming at me way faster than normal. Just as I thought I was getting the hang of it, I tripped over a fallen log and crashed into the mossy ground at high speed.
Pain ripped through my shoulder, and I gasped, stifling a shout.
Damn. That was going to leave a bruise or two.
“I told you, take it slow.” Jaxson circled back and helped me to my feet.
“Yeah, easier said than done.” I shrugged him off, plucking branches out of my hair.
Running in the boots wasn’t actually that much different than skates—at least when the falling part came in. I should have had my rollerblading helmet and wrist guards. I’d look ridiculous, but it would be better than concussing myself or breaking a wrist.
It took about thirty minutes to finally get the hang of the things. We must have circled the park a dozen times, and I was pretty damn exhausted.
Jaxson, of course, seemed fresh as a daisy. He slowed and stepped through the trees onto a rocky beach. A light wind blew off the lake, and the water gently lapped at the shore. My shirt was sweaty, and a dip sounded divine.
“You’ve almost got the running down,” he said, “but that’s not going to be enough. These wolves are fast, and there’s no knowing when they’ll strike. You need to learn how to escape a grapple and chokehold. You panicked last night.”
I planted myself in front of him and tilted my head to meet his gaze. “All things considered, I’d say I was pretty damn calm.”
His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tensed. “You won’t be armed with wolfsbane next time.”
I said nothing, but I’d already asked Casey to get me another bottle as a fail-safe.