“Fuck,” he breathed.
Incredible.
A guy gets his guts ripped out by a girl he really does kinda care about, an experience without parallel in his past, and the bitch doesn’t even have the grace to allow him to do his business in peace. The indignity of it all made him fume.
Why would a foxy number like Karen bump uglies with a doof like Chad Robbins?
It offended his sense of order in the universe.
Basic rule of existence No. 1: Hot chicks don’t fuck nerds.
With the obvious exception of software billionaires.
Besides, girls didn’t cheat on Shane Wallace. Ever. Karen’s transgression was utterly without precedent in the long and varied history of his sexual conquests. Sure, he’d fooled around on every babe he’d ever boned, but that was different. Guys were allowed. They were slaves to what his old buddy Steve Wade, the captain of the SHS football team, used to call the “random jism-dispensation imperative.” Guys, in other words, were impelled by biology to spread their seed far and wide.
Girls had no such excuse.
Therefore, cheating was okay for guys but not for girls.
What could be more obvious?
A girl like Karen, well, you just couldn’t respect her, could you?
He glanced down at his still half-engorged member and experienced a rare flash of shame. Well, it just wouldn’t do to be caught flogging the dolphin by that pack of estrogen carriers. He got to his feet and pulled his pants up, pulling the zipper taut over his wilting erection. Resentment promptly displaced embarrassment.
It was their fault this was happening.
Karen’s friends were just too hot. He’d spent the bulk of the vacation and the long trip back thinking about what he would like to do to them. Oh, he thought they were ignorant, politically correct bitches, but he longed to bone one of them. Or both. That was the image that had pushed him over the edge, a vivid fantasy of being double-teamed by the blond bitch and her black friend. He’d spent the last hour of the ride staring at Dream’s bare shoulders and slender neck, exposed as they were in the orange tank top. Then Dream had her little meltdown and he’d unexpectedly been presented the opportunity to release some spare sperm.
Feigning more emotional trauma at Chad’s revelation than he really felt, he’d ventured into the woods, wandering a little farther out than necessary, just to ensure he wouldn’t be caught in the act. He figured he needed maybe five minutes, then the deed would be done. Things were going great for a couple of minutes. He was imagining the black bitch going down on him while Dream rubbed her sizable tits in his face. Then all hell broke loose.
Somebody-a woman, from the sound of it-was in a world of hurt somewhere deeper in the woods. There’d only been the one scream from that direction, and there was something ominous about that. There’d also been a flurry of movement in the vicinity, a wild rustling of leaves and branches-the sound of something enormous stomping about. Its location was hard to pinpoint-not that he felt particularly compelled to find it anyway, especially since whatever was making the goddamn racket had probably done something unspeakable to elicit the scream he’d heard.
Shane frowned, realizing this was the kind of sound a movie hero would investigate without hesitation-and without any apparent thought given to personal safety.
He thought about inbred backwoods psychos with hunting knives.
Okay, fuck the hero shit.
It was high time he was gone from this creepy-ass place. The decision made, he moved in the direction of the street, his mind already hard at work conjuring up a good story to cover up his cowardice.
From the sound of things, that wouldn’t be too hard. There was a lot of noise emanating from a place directly ahead of him. Karen screaming again. The shrill cunt. Christ, but breaking up with her was long overdue. She was a good-looking broad, but maybe he was done with his Asian phase.
Maybe he’d get himself a blond girlfriend next.
A flaky little bitch like Dream.
Or maybe even Dream herself.
Sure, why not-she was vulnerable enough now.
Shane was so lost in self-absorption and sexual obsession that he didn’t really hear the sound of snapping branches until the creature emerged from the shadows and stood before him. It was huge, maybe eight feet tall, and covered with matted, shaggy fur.
Dog, he thought, genetic mutant big-ass dog.
But, no, there was something decidedly lupine about this creature. …
“Holy crap.” The words popped out of him unbidden. “A fucking werewolf.”
The creature bared its fangs and snarled.
Shane staggered backward, stumbled over a rock, and collided with a tree. He leaned against the tree while the creature slowly approached. He knew he should run, but at the moment the whole of his mental and physical resources were occupied with the task of keeping him upright. But he was failing even at that-his legs shook beyond his ability to control, and he began to slide down the tree. As the creature got closer, he discerned a splash of fresh blood in its fur. Shane thought immediately of the mystery woman and figured her goose was cooked.
As was his own, he realized.
The creature loomed over Shane now, causing his nose to wrinkle at its horrid breath. The thing smelled as if it gargled with raw sewage. He stared up at its long snout, wincing as huge droplets of saliva splashed on his face. The teeth, of which there were so many, looked like rows of jagged knives. Its yellow eyes glowed faintly in the dark. Shane mumbled a genuinely contrite prayer as the beast slowly lowered its massive head toward his throat.
Then deliverance seemed to arrive in the form of Karen’s nearby voice. Funny, now it sounded like the voice of an angel. An angel of mercy. The creature’s head jerked around at the sound of approaching footsteps.
A voice whispered in Shane’s head: Run, dummy.
He had to do it. This moment of distraction might be the only chance he got to redeem himself. Suddenly full of religion, he swore to God he would be a better human being if only He got him out of this. Not only that, he would do his damnedest to make amends with Karen, who really wasn’t so bad a chick at all, and-
“SHANE!” Karen was closer than ever.
There were other voices, too.
Her friends, admonishing her to be careful and slow down.
Fuck that.
This was it, baby, movie hero time.
Shane felt the strength and power return to his athlete’s body, slamming back into him like a dose of lightning. He got to his feet and charged past the startled creature, running for daylight-figuratively, this being night-just like his glory days on the gridiron. He felt a moment of pure triumph and laughed, knowing he had won.
But then the beast was upon him.
Slashing and drawing blood. The ground rushed toward him. There was a thud. Everything went black.
Dream recoiled as Karen screamed and launched herself off the ground. She backed into Chad, who grunted and gripped her shoulder to stop her. Alicia swept past her and approached Karen, who was wild-eyed and on the verge of hyperventilating. Dream was shocked by the sight of her disheveled and obviously terrified friend.
Alicia laid a tentative hand on Karen’s shoulder. “Hey, girl, calm down. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened here. You see your man out here?”
“No.” Karen started backing away from them. “You heard the scream. Something happened to him.” A note of pleading entered her voice. “We’ve got to find him.” She sobbed. “You’ve got to help me.”
Alicia gripped her shoulder tighter. “Whoa, hold on. We heard the scream, sure, but I’ll tell you right now that wasn’t Shane Wallace.”
“It was obviously the sound of a female in distress,” Chad chimed in.
Alicia’s gaze never wavered from Karen. “Much as it pains me to agree with dickhead here, he’s right. The boy wouldn’t acknowledge pain that way. He’d be cursing up a storm.”