Page 42 of The Enforcers: NOAH

Brock caught his breath and stopped trembling, and Noah waded out of the vines and set the little boy on the ground. He squatted down to Brock’s eye level. “You okay?”

Brock nodded. “The woof is back inside,” he said.

Noah put his hand on Brock’s head. “Awesome. You did great.”

He glanced at Mina. “We have to go.”

She stared at him. “Are you insane?” she choked out. Her son had turned into a wolf, and a wolf had turned into her date, and she was freaking heading straight back to the loony bin and all he could say was we have to go?

Noah’s head went up as if he were listening, and he put a finger to his lips. Faintly, she heard crashing noises in the distant underbrush, and saw a gleam of light between the trees. A hundred yards away, tops.

Oh God. It was Robbie and his sick friends.

Brock ran over to her, and she hugged him up tight. All she could think about right now was her little boy. “You’re okay, baby,” she murmured, stroking his hair over and over. “You’re okay.”

Noah came over and crouched down beside them. “Mina, I’m sorry. I know this is—” He reached out to touch her.

Without thinking, she jerked Brock away from him.

“What are you?” she whispered.

He’d found his jeans somewhere and put them on, but he was still shirtless, the garment dangling from his hand. The dim moonlight played on the planes of his face and chest, contrasting with patches of deep shadow.

He was a wolf. A wolf-man. She couldn’t—her mind just wouldn’t make sense of it.

This was the man she’d made love to. The strong lines of his neck, the lips that had caressed her body, the hands that had touched her most intimate places.

And his eyes. Even in the half-dark, she could see the pain in them.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said. “I swear, I would never hurt you or Brock. Not ever.” He glanced around them. “But we can’t let Robbie and his buddies find us. They saw Brock shift. They know what he is.”

Mina’s heart lurched. “Surely they wouldn’t hurt a little boy…”

Noah shook his head and pressed his lips together, glancing at Brock.

Oh, God. They would hurt him, but Noah didn’t want to say it when Brock would hear.

“We can’t take the chance,” was all he said. “We have to go now. Put this on him.” He handed Mina his shirt.

Noah stood up, checked his gun and stuck it in the back of his pants. Then he checked Mina’s and put the safety on, and laid it back on the ground where she could reach it.

He pulled his boots on while she quickly dressed Brock in the too-big shirt, rolling up the sleeves and tying the tails in a knot between his legs.

“This way!” They heard a faint shout.

Noah scooped up Brock in his left arm and grabbed Mina’s hand with his right. “Come on,” he whispered.

They took off running through the woods, Noah making almost no sound, and Mina trying and failing to be just as quiet. Brock was clinging on to Noah’s neck, his eyes big and scared, but keeping quiet.

Noah seemed to have an instinct for the easiest path, but it was still hard going. Mina could tell he was going slowly so she could keep up, but even so, soon she was panting and stumbling. And Briscoe and the others were getting closer.

They both kept checking their cell phones, but there was no signal this far out. And anyway, who would they call? What would they say? That they were trying to keep Brock away from his father because he was a baby wolf?

The first part would get her arrested. The second part would get her sent right back to the psych ward.

She could hear Briscoe swearing periodically in the distance—with way too much repetition of “fucking wolf boy” and “bit my fucking leg.” And something about “oughta put him down,” which gave her a second wind for almost half a mile.

Suddenly Noah stopped, putting his hand out. Mina stopped too, leaning against a tree and panting.