Page 15 of Chased

Said the guy who had gotten them into this mess. Sanchez glared at Cisco. “I knew you’d want to. As an apology, for scaring her into hives over a fucking Butterfinger.”

Cisco frowned. If he wasn’t six-five and two-sixty, it might even be called a pout. “I thought I was doing that by supposedly paying you back for the damage.”

“It’s okay,” Madison broke in. “It’s a lot of trouble for them, and what if they can’t fix it? How will they get home?”

“They’ll find a way.”

Matéo looked from Sanchez to Madison and back again. When Madison wasn’t looking, Sanchez mouthed, She’s scared of us.

Téo gave a short nod and said, “Come on, Cisco. Let’s get the toolbox.” He headed for the back of the pickup.

Cisco still grumbled, but he went. Sanchez saw Madison watching them go, and he could feel her nervousness dissipating. Not all the way—her animal didn’t trust him any more than she trusted the other two. But at least with only one of them, it wasn’t so overwhelming for her.

He hadn’t known many fox shifters, but they weren’t usually so skittish. Although, a lot of people got skittish around him and the boys. They liked it that way.

Sanchez opened the truck door, and Madison climbed up onto the seat. He shut the door and waited for the guys to get the tools and go off with Hawk, and then he went around to the driver’s seat and got in.

Madison was all the way over on the far side of the seat, with her purse and her bag from the market in between them.

Like that would be any kind of a barrier, if his wolf decided to fucking devour her.

Just a taste, his wolf said. She smells delicious.

For fuck’s sake. You stay inside, he told his animal. All the way. She’s nervous enough without having to deal with Wolf Man face.

And he wondered why the hell he felt compelled to rescue this woman. Again.

Madison didn’t say anything as they drove out of town, which normally would have been fine, because Sanchez hated making small talk. Purposely didn’t, as a matter of fact, because brooding silence was such a good way to fuck with people.

But he was trying to calm this little mouthful of fox, not mess with her more.

So he made an effort.

“Did you get in touch with Breanna, back at the store? What did she say?”

Madison looked down at her hands. “I didn’t call. I know I should have, but I’m already so late. I figured it’s a lot harder to tell someone ‘Never mind, you’re fired’ to their face than it is over the phone. And they can’t hang up on you when you’re already standing there.”

“It’s not your fault you were late.”

“Some people don’t care if it’s your fault or not.”

Yeah. Sanchez had seen commanders like that. Bad ones. “Breanna’s not like that. You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

He shot a glance at her, wondering where the hell she was from, and what kind of treatment she was used to. Because she was clearly used to being blamed for things that weren’t her fault. And used to not being able to ask for help—or maybe she just wasn’t used to getting it. At least, not without paying a price.

“So, what do you do at Outlaw Ridge?” she asked him.

“I’m a member of the Ops team,” Sanchez said. “Me and Cisco and Téo, they call us the Hounds. We’re the best trackers in the fucking western hemisphere. Give us a trail—any trail, physical or digital—and we’ll find your guy.”

She looked at him curiously. “Every time?”

“So far.”

“Wow,” she said slowly. “So you and your friends are soldiers. I thought you were civilian workers or something. I didn’t think—”

He gave her another glance, seeing her looking at his clothes and his tattoos and his three-day beard. “What?”