Howlin' For You [#Wattys2015]

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Get in the car," Paxton demanded as he held the passenger door open.

I didn't care if he was devilishly handsome; he could be a celebrity and I still wouldn't get into his silver Lamborghini.

He eventually set me down beside the car. I scoffed. He was rude enough to kidnap me from a party, but gentlemanly enough to let me down instead of throwing me into the car.

I glanced back at the house. What was taking Marq so long to come and get me? He wouldn't think that I'd be perfectly fine with being carried away by some guy, and willingly get into his car. No, Marq knew me better than that.

In the light, I was able to see Paxton's facial features more clearly. He had a strong jaw and a five o'clock shadow. There were four long scars that covered half of his neck. They were fading, but I could still make out the light violet stripes.

I frowned. I wondered what happened for him to have those...claw-like scars. Maybe it was a cat? I wouldn't know; I was always more of a dog person. I smiled, imagining him with a cat. He seemed so...manly. It made me laugh to think of him playing with a little kitten.

Paxton cleared his throat and waved an impatient hand toward the car. I contemplated running back into the house and started inching my way back. He lifted a brow. Damn it.

"All right," I finally agreed with a sigh. "I'll get in the car."

Paxton looked relieved and opened the door wider for me. I sauntered over to him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, leaving him dazed. I smirked before getting into the car. As soon as he closed the car door, I switched the lock button and all the doors clicked shut. I scooched into the black leather seats and let myself sink into the cushion. I closed my eyes. The smell of his expensive cologne surrounded his car. I breathed in his scent, then peeked open an eye.

He hadn't noticed yet. He was still grinning like a child in a candy store, as if everything he planned was working out just perfectly. He made his way around to the driver's side and tried to open the door.

"What the hell?" he said, confused. He frowned and furrowed his brows. After a few more attempts at opening the door, he fumbled through his pocket to find the keys. I grinned, jingling the keys in the air. I may have pick pocketed in my past. Maybe.

To say Paxton looked angry would be an understatement. He looked absolutely furious. He began knocking on the window furiously. I was scared that he was going to shatter the window.

"Stop acting like a child," he growled. "Open the door."

I scoffed. Sure, let's open the door for the crazy murderer to drive me away to his lair. I guess murderers wouldn't host fundraising events, but still. Looking around his car, I searched for anything to protect myself with. The only thing I found was a lint roller and some candy wrappers in the glove box. I shook my head and climbed over to the driver's seat, sticking the key into the ignition.

I grinned devilishly. I've always wanted to drive, but I couldn't afford a car. Marq always drove me everywhere. He was my very own chauffeur. I turned the key.

"Breeann, open the goddamn door," he growled. I shivered from his tone. It was laced with anger, power and something else. Pain, perhaps? I stopped for a moment, hand still holding the key and looked over at him. His blue eyes turned to coal black, and he was breathing heavily. He was clenching his hands so hard I was scared that his nails would pierce his skin.

He was staring me right in the eye, as if he were challenging me, and I lost. I glanced toward my heels, avoiding his gaze. Paxton smirked. He was proud to show that he was the one in charge even though I locked him out. Sexist pig. How's he going to like it when I scratch up his ride?

I was about to turn on the car when it was wretched towards Paxton, my head smashing into the window. Wide-eyed, I turned to see Paxton tearing off the handle of the car. I let out a piercing scream.

A thousand explanations ran through my head as to how the heck this guy was able to rip off the handle of a car. Drugs? Steroids? Maybe I had too much alcohol. Was I hallucinating? I prayed that I was just dreaming; that none of this was real.

Is this what people did when their cars were about to be stolen? I closed my eyes and covered my ears, but it didn't block out the sound of him trying to tear the door apart.

"Wake up, wake up," I whispered to myself.

I glanced back up to see him still tearing at the car. I was surprised the car door hadn't broken apart yet. Drive! My head screamed at me and I immediately turned the key in the ignition. I gripped the steering wheel. I can do this, I silently encouraged myself. I shifted the gears to drive before the window was shattered, glass flew everywhere! A sharp pain shot through my leg.

I cried out softly.

Looking down at my leg, a shard of glass had managed to pierced through the skin, causing blood to trail down to my toes. The top half of the window shattered. It tore through my dress leaving it torn and tattered. Tears began forming in my eyes. What was happening? I cupped my ears and closed my eyes again. I whimpered from the pain.

I begged for everything to just stop. I wanted the pain to stop. I wanted for everything to end and for this nightmare to be over. I wanted to wake up and have Marq comfort me in his arms. He'd whisper sweet nothings in my ear and I'd feel safe. Just like always.

I hoped that thinking about Marq would help distract me from the pain but it didn't. Thinking about Marq didn't help me at all. I felt a sharp pain strike my heart. My mind wandered to Paxton. I felt like I betrayed Marq by thinking about Paxton. I laughed bitterly. I had a glass shard piercing my leg and here I was, thinking about guys I'm not even dating. I began to cry again. The pain was increasing as the car shook.

I squeezed my eyes tighter as the sound of him tearing the car amplified.

"Please, stop. Please. Please," I sobbed.

And during that moment, as if he could hear me through all the noise he was making, he stopped. The pain was still there, but the noise wasn't pounding in my head anymore. Hesitantly, I un-covered my ears and slowly drifted my eyes up toward him once more. Paxton stood there, suit ripped, holding part of the car door. Only a thin layer of metal and what was left of the glass window was protecting me from him.

He was breathing heavily and shaking with anger. I bit my lip trying to distract myself from the pain in my thigh. Paxton looked guilty.

I shakily placed both my hands on the half-cracked window and looked him in the eye. Slowly, he started walking closer to the car, his eyes never leaving mine. Lifting up his hands, he placed them on the glass where my hands would be if it weren't for the thin layer of glass between us. I felt like everything else blurred, like nothing else mattered and that he was my only priority.

We stayed that way for a while, gazing into one another's eyes. His eyes captivated me and I, momentarily, forgot about the pain in my leg. Gradually, I broke eye contact with him only to fetch the keys from the ignition and unlocked the car. Somehow, it felt right to let him in. He grunted, as if asking for permission to open the door. I panicked. Was I making the right decision? Was it right to let him open what was left of my thin layer of protection? I brushed away the thoughts in my head and nodded. I suddenly felt too lightheaded to think. As each second passed, it was getting harder for me to think.

He opened the door but stayed in place. I used all my strength to push myself out of the car. He grabbed onto my shoulders, helping me.

"Please," he whispered. "Please don't be-," I heard him say before I felt myself losing conscious, my legs giving way as I collapsed into his arms.

"Fuck!" Paxton cursed.

He picked me up swiftly, and once again, I felt the electricity soaring through my body. I moaned, and I wasn't sure whether or not it was from the pain or the pleasure. I felt him running as he carried me, applying pressure to the wound. Paxton was booming orders, but I could only hear bits of what he was saying.

"Pack... Luna.. Save... Alpha."

Luna? I remembered hearing that in Spanish class. What was he saying? I couldn't remember what it meant, but I didn't care. I wanted something to numb the pain. I slowly drifted off and welcomed the darkness.

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