The Reluctant Mate

50 Amanda

Steven was vile, made worse by the sharp contrast of my life with Porter, so it was hard to pretend that I liked what I was doing as I met Steven's cold pale eyes. It didn't help that my acting skills were too rusty to handle the task of pretending I liked anything him. I straddled him and moaned with disgust, although hoped he couldn't tell the difference. Or that he'd enjoy my misery enough not to shoot me if he could see through my terrible performance.

"Show me how much you missed me, baby girl."

How had I let him manipulate me for so long? Sure, he could hurt me, but I wasn't afraid of that anymore as long as he didn't kill me. If I could just get that gun...

There was shouting outside. One of my kidnappers yelled something about a wolf.

A wolf? It couldn't be Porter, could it?

Did I dare hope? How could they have found me so quickly?

"Move," he ordered, and I was happy to obey this time as I clambered off of him. "Stay put."

Steven walked out of the room and yelled, "What do you two think I'm paying you for? Shut the hell up and do your damn jobs!"

I went to the bedroom window and scanned the area. I was disappointed not to see a single wolf in sight. But one of the thugs outside was obviously upset. "But there's a wolf and it's acting strange."

"Just fucking deal with it." Steven had that tone he got when his patience was all used up. It used to make me scared. It still made me scared, but I was done with running and hiding. I picked up the lamp from the bedside table and yanked it from the wall. I didn't know if the wolf outside was Porter or just a coincidence, but I didn't want to just passively do whatever Steven wanted again.

I slipped behind the door.

He walked back in the room, obviously distracted.

"Amanda? Baby girl?" The you've-really-fucked-up-this time tone grew with every syllable and he lifted up the gun. He turned back the way he came, likely to search for me in the rest of the house. "Where—"

I slammed the lamp straight onto his head with a sickeningly satisfying thump, but I didn't waste time enjoying the moment. I hit him with the lamp a second time, and a third, and this time he brought up his hand up to protect his head and stop me. I screamed as loud as I could as I lunged for the gun, hoping to explode his eardrums. I wasn't able to grab it, but it fell from his hand and skidded across the floor and came to rest nearly under the bed.

He looked towards it, and I kneed him in the balls with as much force as I could muster. Steven howled but sadly didn't go down, so I ran and I grabbed the gun and held it pointing at him as steadily as my shaking hands could manage.

"Amanda, baby girl," he said. He was still in pain and just as clearly pissed, both hands holding his crotch. I hoped I broke it. He stood, slightly bent, a trickle of blood dripping down his forehead, too. Good.

"I don't want to hear it, Steven."

He took a step forward.

"Stay back," I said, readjusting my sweating hands on the cool heavy weapon for fear I would drop it. "I will shoot you."

He stopped well out of reach and held out his hand, as if I were just going to hand it over. "Just give me the gun before you hurt yourself."

I scoffed at that. "I don't think so. If anyone's getting hurt, it's you. What the hell were you thinking, bringing me here?"

"I told you, you'll always be mine. I got this place for you—so we could be together without the stress of everyday life. I came here for you." His face looked so earnest as he spoke, his words sounded so sincere, that I probably would have believed him if I had amnesia.