Hunted

Wow, it’s oh-so reassuring to know we’ve got such foolproof security measures in place, I thought with a scowl, leaning the window pane against the wall.

 

Tossing my handy crow bar away into the darkness, I backed up a couple steps and took a running jump at the window, my bare feet scraping against the rough stucco finish of the wall as I scrambled up to the window. Being a werewolf may make me stronger, faster, and all that other cool shit, but it doesn’t, unfortunately, compensate for my lack of athletic prowess or short stature. Thankfully, I managed to get enough height in my jump to hook my fingers over the edge of the window frame.

 

I was part way through the window when I realized that I might have made a slight miscalculation between the relative size of my ass compared to that of the window frame. The desire to scream a litany of curses was a bitter and cloying taste on the back of my tongue.

 

“Fucking shit fuck ass-wrangler!” I hissed, cursing my stupidity as I hung half in, and half out, of the small bathroom window, my naked ass wiggling helplessly in the cold air. At least from my vantage point I saw that the bathroom door was shut, hopefully keeping my verbal explosion to myself.

 

Knowing my luck, this will be when Samson attacks, killing me ass first, I told myself and then instantly wished I hadn’t as a freezing wind blew across my bare cheeks and sent tremors of paranoia galloping up my spine.

 

“Shit, shit, shit!” I wriggled with more enthusiasm, determined to squeeze my hips through the cheap metal frame.

 

Sweet Jesus, if I make it through this, I swear I’ll lay off the donuts, I thought, desperately sucking in my gut. And the Oreo’s, the wolf added, her lips spread in a wide doggy grin.

 

“Can it, bitch,” I huffed, almost whooping in relief when I felt the flimsy metal of the window frame give just enough for me to squeeze through. Before I could cry out in exultant joy I heard voices from the other room and went still.

 

“Did you hear something?” Holbrook asked, his voice muffled by the closed door.

 

“What?” Johnson replied, his voice sounding impatient and tinged with the all-around grumpy asshole-ness that seemed to be a permanent state of being for the older agent.

 

“I thought I heard something,” Holbrook answered, his voice closer. “I’m just going to check it out.”

 

“No, no, no.” I struggled furtively, my legs kicking madly in the air as I strained against the window frame, and then froze as the door swung open.

 

Holbrook’s tall frame was silhouetted in the doorway, light from the other room spilling around him to fall across the grubby tile floor. His hand was already on the light switch, flipping it on, when he noticed me.

 

“Hi!” I said, not even wanting to know how ridiculous I looked hanging in the window, naked as the day I was born.

 

At first he didn’t react, too stunned to say anything as his eyes took in the sight of my far from graceful entrance. Snapping his mouth shut, he cast a furtive glance back over his shoulder before slipping in through the door and closing it with a slow precision that left no doubt in my mind that he was fighting against the urge to slam it.

 

“What the…where have…how did…” he stammered, trying several times to form a coherent sentence but failing miserably.

 

All the while his face grew redder—whether from anger, embarrassment, or a mixture of both I couldn’t tell—but the steely edge to his gaze made it clear that anger was definitely featured in there somewhere. I felt myself wilt a little beneath the weight of his glare, my eyes growing hot with the threat of tears.

 

“Can you help me?” I asked. “I don’t want to be eaten ass first,” I added, drawing a confused look from him. Waving it off, I reached out a hand to him. “Just help me down.”

 

“I don’t know…I’m tempted to just leave you there. Maybe bring the press ‘round back,” he said, not moving an inch from his position by the door, settling instead for crossing his arms over his chest. “You might even make the evening news.”

 

Another breeze of cold air tickled the backs of my legs, making me cringe and shudder. In the back of my mind I envisioned Samson sneaking through the darkness, spying my pale wiggling ass framed in the window like a flashing neon sign proclaiming “Chomp here!”

 

Tears of frustration began to make my vision waver. “Just get me down!”

 

Holbrook remained unmoving, drawing out my torture for several more heart-pounding seconds. Finally, the sour expression on his face gave way and he pushed away from the door.

 

“Do I even want to know what happened?” he asked with a sigh, grasping my upper arms firmly to pull me through the window.

 

“I’d think that’s pretty self-evident,” I grumbled, letting out a hissing breath as my bare skin scraped against the metal frame.

 

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