Page 45 of Freeing Her Cheetah


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“Holy fuck,” Elijah says, slapping the table with his palm.

“This has been…” Ryker starts, but doesn’t finish, shaking his head. He moves his chair back and reaches for Serenity. “We areleaving. Saylor, good luck with all…that.” He waves at the table in general. “If you need anything, call.”

“Nice to meet you, Saylor…Sally,” Serenity says as her mate drags her away.

“Damn,” Elijah says. I turn worriedly to him. “Fucker stuck me with the check.”

“You hard up, cheetah,” Sally laughs.

“No, I just enjoy sticking it to him when I can,” he pouts.

“Men never change,” Sally says.

“Where are you staying?” I ask.

“Oh, don’t worry about me.” She scoots her chair back. “I’m really glad you are good. I’ll find you when you need me.”

“How?” I ask, flustered by her non-answers.

“Don’t worry about it.” She leans over me. “Trust yourself, and your mate.” She kisses me on the head. “Love you, girl. See you soon.”

I stare at her as she walks away. “What the fuck?”

“For a first date, it was fun.” I just stare at him blankly while he pays for the check. He silently holds his hand out to me.

The closer we get to his truck, the more I feel as if there is a presence lingering in the air. I can’t figure out what is causing the strange sensation. I look around us but don’t see anything unusual.

I brush it off, blaming it on the weird night and the threat of Grant, until I see the note on Elijah’s windshield.

“Elijah,” I whisper, nodding towards it when he looks at me.

His head swivels before touching it. I press close and read it as he does.

Did you miss me?

The famous temper Elijah keeps warning me about, that I have not witnessed yet, makes its presence known.

Elijah officially loses it.

Chapter Fifteen

Elijah

The paper falls from my hand. A buzzing sound thrums in my ears. Memories of the notes I received bombard me. I didn’t notice anyone out of place except the rabbit. Nothing bad. No one was there to hurt us. My claws burst from my nails. My hands partially shift. The anger bubbles up from deep inside.

I have to protect Saylor.

I have to kill Grant for scaring her.

Her body shakes next to mine and I step back so I don’t hurt her accidentally. I slap my palms on the hood of the truck, paint curls in the path of my claws as I bow my head, breathing deeply. I don’t think about anyone seeing me. All I can feel is rage at the asshole that wants my mate.

“Elijah,” Saylor says cautiously.

“Stay back,” I growl through my cheetah’s teeth that emerged. “We want to kill him. All I can think of is killing him. Kill, kill, kill,” I repeat.

“We will,” she assures me. I turn my head to the side to see her approaching me with her hands out. “He won’t hurt me.”

“He’s a dead man,” I snarl gutturally.

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