The Stripper Who Cried Wolf

The Stripper Who Cried Wolf - Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I lounged in my office, nursing a whisky bottle and feeling sorry for myself as I sat in the only chair I hadn't decapitated.

I hadn't talked to Fawn for over two weeks and I was at a loss. My wolf lost control at the slightest annoyance. My home was completely trashed and I was always drunk. I pulled her number up almost all the time and debated on calling her. When I did have the guts to call, she never answered.

Secretly, hearing her voice on her voicemail was the only pleasure I could experience.

"Okay, get your dumb ass up," Alana's voice came from the doorway.

"What do you want?" I muttered, staring into the whisky bottle.

I saw a flash of movement as Alana walzed over to me and slapped me across the head. As a werewolf that didn't hurt me - but if I wasn't I'd be putting in claim for whiplash.

"Now that I've knocked some pathetic sense into you, I'd just like to say that that felt so good," Her grin was wider than the earth, "Why are you drownin' your sorrows, huh?"

"You know why," My voice was so low, I doubted anyone would have heard it.

"Ah, so this is about Fawn," Alana nodded, taking the whisky bottle out of my hands. "Well you're both obviously drowning your sorrows,"

"What do you mean!" I exclaimed, my head snapping up. "Have you talked to her?"

"We're like the best of friends, you stupid muppet," Alana snapped, putting the whisky bottle back in the cupboard.

I jumped up and growled, "Give me your phone,"

"Hell no! And don't you be giving me that attitude because I'll slap you again!"

"Alana, this is serious!" I ran my hand over my shaven head and rubbed down my chin."

"Jordan, you're a mess. You stink of drink and god knows what else," She waved her hand, scrunching her face up. "I thought someone died in here, for God's sake. Get a shower and I'd suggest scrubbing yourself with bleach, boy,"

I looked at her bag and dove for it. Normally, I'd never go through a womans bag because of all the dark, evil things in there but this was an emergency.

"Oi, give me my bag back!" Alana charged over to me, "Boy, I'm seriously gunna ram this designer shoe up your asshole and give you such a smack!"

I leapt into the bathroom and locked the door.

"Jordan!" She banged on the door. "I'm telling you, now. If you don't get out of this bathroom I'll flush your head down the toilet! I'm being serious!"

I ignored her and went through her bag for her phone. I found it alone with a strip of condoms.

"Sis, it's good to know you're being safe and all. But once I've won Fawn back, every guy you've been with is going in the garden with me for a while," I growled, fiddling with the phone. "And you're going in a nunary,"

"What can I say? The men love me. And as for the nunary, I don't wanna make the choire boys get erections when they see me in a nun outfit!" I could imagine her fluffing her hair up while the banging stopped for a minute. "Jordan she isn't even in the country. She found a little sugar daddy who whisked her off to the Bahamas for wild sex."

"I know you're lying," I growled, feeling the wolf stirr at the thought of her with another man. "Don't ever say things like that again!"

"Okay, maybe I was lying!" She started banging harder, "But I'm not about what I'm going to do to you when I get in there!"