The Wolf & I - Sample Chapter
Check out this sample chapter from my Camp NaNoWriMo 2021 work-in-progress
Max had female marks before, just not as attractive as the one that stood before him now. Usually, they were the equivalent of Gila monsters.
Adorable was not a word he’d ever use to describe them, but this mark, well, she was striking with her short, red hair and angelic face. But he was not about to be distracted by how pretty she was; he had a job to do.
“We have to wait a bit,” he said. “They’ll be expecting us to try and leave from whatever hiding place they think we’re in. We can’t be seen on the street just yet.”
The woman, who appeared to be in her mid-twenties, sighed. “Fine, but can we at least leave this furnace we’re in?”
Max considered this and peeked through the door’s slim opening to the bedroom.
Tattered but heavy curtains hung in front of the small window, the last bit of sun sending dust mites through the air. He looked over his shoulder and gave her a nod, imagining to himself what she’d look like in the actual sunlight.
He pushed the doors apart and walked into the room, listening for sounds from the hallway. As he turned around, the woman emerged from the closet. Her hair was damp with sweat, and he watched as she pushed it off her forehead. It stuck up at different angles, and he almost laughed at how cute she looked. Her hazel eyes met his for a moment; then, she dropped her jacket and backpack to the floor.
“What’s with the extensive getup?” he asked.
She narrowed her eyes at his. “I assumed you knew.”
Max shrugged and shook his head.
She leaned back against the wall next to the closet. “How long are we going to be here? Because it would be nice to know how you know Reynolds.”
Remember that part about keeping your mouth shut, Vega? he thought to himself.
When he didn’t respond, she slid her back down against the wall and took a seat on the floor. “I’ll assume you work for him.”
Max chewed on the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t his place to start explaining things to a mark. The less he said, the better. Reynolds could explain the situation himself; that was how it always worked.
“Strong silent type, huh? Sounds consistent with type Reynolds employs.” The woman folded her hands in her lap and outstretched her legs. “Well, as you probably know, my name is Jessie.”
Max looked at her blankly.
“Jesus, didn’t he tell you anything?”
Need to know, Max thought. But this time, Reynolds didn’t think there was a need in telling him much at all.
“Do I get to know your name? Wait, let me guess, you have some sort of code name.”
Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him. Man, she was a little spitfire.
“They call me The Wolf,” he answered boldly.
She stared at him for a moment. “I assume because you have no weapon that you’re bark is worse than your bite?” A corner of her mouth turned up.
He stared down at her. “Oh, I bite.”
~~~
Okay, so this guy was interesting.
Typical mercenary, she’d gathered. But the nickname was curious.
She smirked up at him. “Did you know wolves are non-aggressive? Is that why we’re holed up here until nightfall? Because you don’t believe in going out guns-blazing? Not that you seem to have a gun.”
That must’ve struck a nerve because he turned away and went to the window to peer through a thin crack in the fabric. He kept his eye on the outside as he spoke. “Wolves are also intelligent, which is why I’m not putting us in a situation where either of us could get hurt.”
“Bad for business, right?”
He stepped away from the window, walked over to the door, and looked through the peephole. “You talk a lot.”
Honey, this is the most conversation I’ve had in weeks. Cut me some slack.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asked. “Because this neighborhood gets a bit sketchy at night.”
“Compared to the posh oasis it is now?”
She couldn’t help herself and laughed. “Yeah, well, we can’t all live uptown.”
He said nothing and continued to stare through the peephole. Now that she had a moment, she looked him over. Black jeans, black work boots, and a black dress shirt that was untucked. She liked his taste. She also liked the way the denim hugged him in all the right places.
Stop it, seriously stop it. You still don’t know if you can trust this guy.
The sound of what might be gunshots came up from the alley, and she watched him move back to the window.
“See, I told you noises like that were an everyday occurrence around here.” Jessie stood and stretched. “Relax, Fido. It’s probably a car backfiring. Must be Tuesday.”
His glare sliced right through her.
Okay, so no dog jokes.
“I’d like to go back into my apartment to grab some things since the coast is clear.” Jessie turned toward the closet, but he moved quickly to block her path. “Come on, five minutes. We raced out in such a hurry, and there are a few more things I’d like to get.”
The Wolf — okay, that name wasn’t going to work for her — waited for a beat then headed into the closet ahead of her.
“Wait here,” he said, then moved the plywood carefully and stepped through. He disappeared for a moment then returned. “Make it quick and keep quiet.”
Jessie made a beeline for the kitchen area and grabbed a plastic bag off the counter. She opened the fridge and started tossing what little was in there into the bag. She turned around and crashed into a wall of man-chest.
The Wolf looked down at her with an expression of irritation. She shrugged off his apparent judgment and slipped around him to go back through the hole in the closet.
Once he’d replaced the plywood, he stepped back into the bedroom of the apartment.
“You went back for food?” he asked.
Jessie reached into the bag and produced two cans of soda. “And beverages,” she said, holding one out to him. He hesitantly took it, and she shrugged. “Sue me; I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
She dropped onto the floor again and spread out what she’d retrieved. Two-day-old Chinese was better than nothing.