Page 44 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

After a moment, she stepped over the cardboard wreckage, stretched, and padded over to him. She stopped just in front of him, nose twitching as she took in his scent. Then she rose onto her hind legs and bumped her head against his jaw.

His tail started wagging.

Well. Someone was happy.

For a moment they just stood there, close enough to share breath, noses almost touching. Then she twisted away hard and bolted, a streak of golden fur cutting through the trees. He gave chase without hesitation.

They ran hard. She darted between tight gaps and under low branches, using her agility. He powered through open stretches, closing the distance with raw strength. She would pull ahead, then slow just enough for him to catch up, brushing against his side before darting away again. They chased each other in wide loops, splashed through shallow streams, and vaulted fallen logs together.

It looked like play, but it didn't feel that simple.

Eventually they circled back to where I'd left my clothes, both breathing hard. She gave her coat a vigorous shake. The wolf lowered his head and licked her ear once, slow and possessive.

Then we shifted.

I pulled on the shorts and tank, shoved my feet into the sneakers, and looked over at him. He stood a careful distance away, both hands cupped low, his hair disordered and steam rising off his shoulders in the cold air. Broad chest still rising and falling. Heavy shoulders. The flat line of his stomach, muscle shifting with each breath. Steam curled off his skin, making him look half-real in the moonlight.

He was a sight. He had to know it.

When I looked back up, he was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read.

“You followed me,” I said.

He shook his head once. “No. I was already here.”

“Why?”

He was quiet for a beat. “I thought you might come out tonight. I didn’t want you out here alone.”

“I’m always out here alone.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s the problem.”

My gaze slipped, tracing the line of his collarbone and over the broad plane of his chest, lower still. I caught myself and looked away before he noticed.

“Harper… it’s dangerous right now.” He took a small step closer. “Two people are dead.”

My gaze snapped back to him. So they had found Richard.

I kept my face blank. “Two people?”

“They found another body this morning. Richard Calloway. Same neighborhood. Same… style.”

I let my expression show the right amount of surprise. “I hadn’t heard.”

Jackson’s voice softened. “I don’t want anything happening to you.”

I looked past him into the trees, needing something else to focus on. Somewhere out there was the wreckage of a large cardboard box.

"You always bring boxes into the forest?"

"Only when I think they'll be appreciated," he said.

“You’re strange.”

He shrugged, eyes soft.

My cat kept trying to close the distance. I refused to let her.