Chapter Eleven
Joanna
Relationships were limitations. But feelings?
Fucking death sentences.
And yet, after the high from destroying Marcus wore off, I cried the entire drive home.
Pathetic.
Thecomplicationbetween me and the werewolf was all types of fucked up. And as much as I warned myself to, I couldn’t stay away from him.
Then, there was Latoya. My sister abandoned me, but I still loved her. I trusted her as far as I could throw her, and my simp ass felt relieved that my hunter’s mark had given me the strength forsomedistance.
And finally, to top off all the ways I’d placed my head onto a chopping block, in a few days I planned to meet the leader of the werewolf uprising: the faceless monster that’d haunted my dreams for weeks.
I needed a distraction. And fuck jogging—because that worked out so well last time.
The tiny gym was a few miles from the train station downtown. It held fifteen people max, making it perfect for those who didn’t like crowds… or people like me, who wanted human interaction without the commitment.
Some hunters stressed the importance of non-hunter interaction. They said we needed to be reminded of who we were fighting for. Perhaps if I’d adhered to that mindset, I’d be a well-adjusted human being—with a friend list longer than a fifty-something-year-old white man who taught me the best ways to kill someone… Shit.Something.
But no, I was like most hunters. We avoided all attachments like the plague. Even our comrades were just that: fellow soldiers in our war against the monsters. Coworkers, associates. Rarely friends.
I fiddled with the zipper of my workout jacket, pressing it to my lips as I checked in at the front desk. As the zipper fell from my mouth, my eyes flicked to the framed poster of daily affirmations hanging on the wall.
I gave my head an amused shake.
There was a time in my life when I never missed an opportunity to look in the mirror and tell myself that I wascapable. That Itrustedmyself… It became routine after my freak-out following my first kill.
I slung my duffle bag onto my shoulder and walked up to the poster. Most of the affirmations on the list were saved in a note on my phone that I hadn’t opened in years.
“I am more than my circumstances demand,” I read quietly to myself.Damn right.“I release the things that are achingly out of reach.” I frowned.
Best two out of three.
But a rich laugh cut through the gym’s silence, causing my eyes to freeze.
The sound waves traveled from my ears down to my stomach, where they swelled. My eyes bounced from one piece of gym equipment to another until I found the source.
My ex, Malik, stood by the punching bags, tying his locs back from his face. Sweat glued his black t-shirt to his stomach, outlining every dip of his abs. His long track-star legs looked powerful in his basketball shorts. And his stupid, beautiful smile made my skin itch.
I pulled down the brim of my cap. Fuck.
As I spun on my heels, I threw my gaze to the floor, hoping he wouldn’t notice me. He would never know that I was essentiallyrunningfrom him. At least, that’s what I told myself as I took three quick steps toward the front door.
“Did you forget something, Joey?”
Well, damn.
I turned, forcing my expression to remain neutral.
Malik’s jog came to a halt when he was close enough to get slapped if he deserved it. He crossed one arm over his toned chest, tucking his hand under his elbow. He stroked his short goatee with his other hand, the cloy smile on his pretty tawny-brown face making me want to rip his lips off.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d locked my car,” I answered.
He chuckled. “You did. Not sure about when you first got out, but you gave the key fob its regularone-for-good-luckpress at the front door.”
