Big Bad Wolfie novel Chapter 12

After dinner — and steeling a few of a friend's champaign glasses because, and I quote, "you need it more than I do," which I agree with 100% — we're dancing.

  If you consider stomping off beat around a ball room floor dancing.

"How are you so well respected around here?" Wolfie narrowed his eyes at me.

It's also turned into more of an interrogation.

  I shrugged. "Just by knowing how to get things done and done well I guess."

  It's true. I am pretty well respected in this scene. By most, not all. I've worked my but off to get these high ranking members to see me as their equal. Some of them still haven't gotten the picture, but if that's the case, I probably don't care about their opinion anyway.

  And some really are just better than me and aren't my equal.

  That doesn't mean we can't respect each other though.

  "Hmm. . ." He hummed.

"Are you sure it's not because you were born with this position and everything that comes with it is wrapped in a nice little bow for you? You still don't seem that impressive," he scoffed, giving me a once over.

I laughed heartily. "Y'know, all these jabs your taking at me," it's not the first of the night, and he's clearly trying to rile me up, "they're basically the equivalent to stabbing a corpse," I informed him.

He looked slightly caught off guard. "That's an interesting analogy."

I shrugged, "I mean really, you're saying them like you expect me to care," I snorted. "It's like stabbing a corpse and expecting it to stir."

"You are such a weird girl."

"I already told you you haven't seen anything yet," I shook my head.

He sighed, giving up and changing the topic.

  "And why do so many people wanna talk to you?"

  "Ummm, it might have something to do with the fact I'm just not a douchebag," I mocked with a laugh. "I swear, you think too highly of me," I shook my head sarcastically.

  His eyes narrowed even more. "Mm, I don't know."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Of course you don't. How would you?"

"I'm very good at reading people," he informed.

"Ah, sure you are."

You're as clueless as a lost puppy.

"What am I thinking right now?" I challenged him.

He'll never get it.

"How undeniably attractive I am," he stated matter-of-factly, kind of surprising me with the fact he made a joke.

"Pft, no."

Well now I am.

"My turn," I chirped.

His eyebrows furrowed. "For what?"

"To guess what you're thinking. And then I get to pick your brain with questions like you did mine."

"That's not how this works —"

"That's how I'm telling you it's gonna work."

Before he could whine more about it, I proceeded. "I bet you're thinking about. . . Me."

"Self centered much?"

Says the guy that just called himself undeniably attractive.

"I think you're trying to figure me out. Either that, or you think you already have," I stated.

There was a pause.

"The second one."

I snorted. "Of course. And what have you deduced?"

"You're young —"

"Oh, good one Sherlock."

He glared at me.

I shrugged at him with a smirk.

"You're nieve."

Oh, strike one.

"You just skate through life, not observing what's around you."

Strike two.

"You think you're always right."

. . . Yeah, okay.

"You're all bark no bite."

No, actually, I think that's you.

"Strike three batter, and you're out," I shook my head at him.

He quirked an eyebrow. "You're just in denial."

"Oh, a hundred percent. Just not about any of that."

He looked at me confusedly. I took the opportunity to change the subject.

"Now, on to the most important question. . ." I paused for suspense. "What's your favorite color?" I asked, trying to sound intense.

"Gray," he answered with an eye roll.

I don't care if he thinks it's frivolous.

"Gray like your tie or gray like your eyes?" I questioned.

". . . My tie."

  From my place on the floor, he looked pretty hulking.

  I gazed up at him tentatively.

  Then he pounced.

  Grabbing my forearms and yanking me up, he spun me around to face away from him. Before I knew it my arms were pinned against my back and my face was smothered by the bed.

  "Get it through your thick skull! Your house, is MINE now!" He growled.

  I huffed. "Get this through your thick skull!" His grip wasn't tight enough on my wrists to prevent what happened next. I flung my hand out and grabbed a fist full of his sleeve and pulled. It made him come crashing from on top of me and gave me more leeway to move. I circled my fingers around his collar and shoved him across the room, into the corner. The night stand that used to sit there crumbled under his weight with a loud crash.

I heard rustling downstairs and a mixture of puzzled voices.

  I have to stop this now. There's no point. He'll call for backup and I'll be taken down. I've accomplished my goal — proving a point — and now I'm going to have to let him think he's won to keep things from getting out of hand.

  Which wasn't hard considering his hands were back on me like a flash. My wrist was pinned back to my back, but this time with an iron grip, and his other hand was on the back of my neck. He shoved me out on the balcony until the railing was digging into my stomach. "You see all that?!" He bellowed. He grabbed a fist full of my hair and yanked my head back. Forcing me to look out on my territory. Thank the goddess I can't see if anyone is looking back at me through their windows. "I'll destroy ALL OF IT, if you don't do as I say. If you don't cooperate the way I want you to. If you step out of line ONE MORE TIME, someone is going to die."

  He doesn't mean that.

  Right?

  "Do I make myself clear pup?"

  I'm not a pup, but I get what he was going for with the insult.

  I tried to nod my head, my jaw clenched so hard I'm surprised my teeth didn't break.

  He yanked my head back even more. "I didn't hear you! Am I clear!"

  I took shallow breaths through gritted teeth. "Crystal."

  "Good."

  He pulled me off the railing and back inside without letting up on my wrist or hair. "Here, here's the new room I had set up for you once I realized how problematic you would be."

  He threw me onto the floor in the room across from his and slammed the door shut without another word.

  Oh yeah, I'm the problematic one.

  Click.

  And here we go again.

  I climbed off the floor and grimaced when I rubbed my hand across my sore scalp.

  Why do they always go for the hair?

  Taking a look around the room, I saw it was practically the same set up as the last one. Same bed and same bolts on the window. Only this time there was a small dresser with only one remaining drawer across from the bed. I opened the drawer out of curiosity and found a pair of my sweats and a t-shirt folded inside.

Well okay then. At least now I don't have to sleep in this, but they couldn't have included makeup wipes? Maybe a comb and a toothbrush too?

I mean, they already went through my closet apparently, why not my bathroom too?

With an eye roll, I changed into the pjs and settled for the makeup I wiped off with my hands and climbed into bed.

This time I lied down with only one thought initially flying around in my head.

I wonder if he had this room set up right next to his when we were at the gala because I was causing trouble, or when he discovered we were mates because he wanted me close.