“Maybe.” Maybe I was a glutton for punishment, but I kept scrolling, going down worm holes when finding his name. “You’re popular.”
“Read some of the comments.”
So I did. Some were all about the women who wanted to have his babies. A few mentioned he had two cocks. When I dared glance between his legs, he laughed.
“See what I mean? At least you can provide proof that the rumor isn’t accurate. I don’t have two cocks.” His laugh died off when I didn’t join him.
But that was what they’d assumed. Did people not know their biology about animals? Were they that stupid? I was almost incensed for him.
Almost.
Then I came back to the fact he’d lied to me about some pretty serious aspects of his person. And he’d had the chance to rectify them several times and had chosen not to. I couldn’t say anything, continuing scrolling. I also found connections to his brother and shifted to Saint Masters’ page.
Both men had fans who couldn’t care less they were shifters and others who thought they should be hunted down like wild animals.
And the comments made my stomach turn.
You should be in jail.
He’ll eat our pets.
Shifters are nothing but beasts.
Why were people so cruel?
Just when I couldn’t stomach any more, I noticed an article from theSun Timesin Florida written about a man in a bar who swore on a Bible that Steven, the Beast, Masters had tried to kill and eat him.
Wait a minute.
The guy looked familiar.
“Hold on. Is this the guy from the bar the other night?” I shoved the phone into his face.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“Please tell me you didn’t kill him.”
For once, he didn’t come back with a quick answer. “Some people say we’re prone to violence because we’re dangerous predators. Given I have a temper like my brother, I could see where people would be concerned, but I assure you that the man in that article walked out happy and healthy. Other than what I did to his hand. And I’d do it again if it meant protecting you from a lecherous asshole. If you need to hate me for that, I won’t blame you.”
I shut down Instagram, closing my eyes. “I don’t hate you, Danny. I mean Steven. I just don’t know what to think. My entire life I’ve hidden behind what I thought I needed to do and I just…I didn’t like being surprised by my father. But I assure you, I don’t think like him about shifters. I just don’t know what to believe any longer.”
“Understood.”
The hum of the engine lulled me into a quiet moment.
“Why don’t we stop for the night? I’m sure you’re tired.” Maybe there was a little hopeful tone in his voice.
There was a huge part of me that knew the man sitting next to me was no different than the guy I’d met who’d just run over my flowers.
“I didn’t ask if you were too drunk to drive. That was terrible of me.”
He tossed me a little look. “It takes a lot of alcohol to get me drunk. Wolves have a high metabolism. It can happen, which was the reason for the beer bong.”
“Mmmm… Tell me about your other special attributes.”
“Do you really want to hear them?”
“I do.”
