Drew slammed the door behind him and hurried toward his bathroom. The wolf part helped him fight the cold slicing through him as he’d made his way home, but his human body was desperately in need of heat. As usual, he’d left his clothes in the outhouse on the edge of his property, but this time he bypassed them to get home as soon as he could to check out his wounds. He’d never been hurt like that before and he was unnerved.
He turned on the shower, stepping under it as soon as it was hot. He sucked in a breath as the hot water hit his icy skin, sighing as the warmth slowly spread through his body. He was relieved to see his injuries were healing well and would likely be gone by the time he was dried and dressed. As soon as he felt wholly human again, he got out of the shower, wrapped himself in a big bath towel and headed for the main room. The fire was banked, but he quickly threw a few logs onto it, knowing it would soon be blazing.
Then he hurried to his bedroom, where he rubbed himself down with the towel before getting dressed. He hastened to the kitchen and was soon back in front of the fire warming his hands around his coffee mug. He sat on the rug, leaning back against his sofa and staring into the flames as they danced before him. When had his life become so complicated? He tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. He knew the answer and hated it.
He closed his eyes and allowed the images to form…let the memory flow. For a time, he’d fought against the recollection, as if trying to forget could change anything. Then he learned the power of those memories and drawing on them kept him focused. Part of him hated that so much of his energy was centered on the need for revenge, but even his human side accepted James should pay for what he’d done; for what he might do to some other unsuspecting soul who let his defenses down enough to trust him. Though Drew couldn’t deny his own culpability, he’d gone looking for someone strong and sexy he could lose himself in. His mistake had been in choosing James.
Drew remembered walking into Pascoe’s Club in Huntington that Friday night, same as he did about every four to six weeks when his itch needed a particular kind of scratching. He’d argued with Leland that afternoon, nothing dramatic, but it was the last straw after a particularly demanding week and Drew knew what he needed. He wished it was something he could share with Leland, but that day seemed as far off as ever.
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