Page 5 of Crimson Heart

3

Charlotte had driven all night, returned the rental car at San Francisco Airport, and then taken a taxi into the city. The motel in Cow Hollow, a trendy and popular neighborhood, was clean and relatively inexpensive. She’d slept almost the entire day, keeping her cell phone switched off so her parents wouldn’t have a way to track her. While she’d had no choice but to use her credit card for the car rental, she’d paid the taxi and the motel with cash. She needed time to think about how to proceed without her parents finding her and dragging her back.

When her stomach growled, she went to a pizza place a block away from the motel and indulged not only in a large pizza but also an equally decadent dessert. She wasn’t worried about putting on weight. Her werewolf genes gave her a higher metabolism than that of a human, burning calories efficiently without storing any unnecessary fat. Any fashion model would be jealous of the effortlessness with which she kept her perfect figure. Obesity was practically unheard of in the werewolf community.

Not wanting to return to the motel yet, Charlotte entered one of the many bars that lined busy Union Street. It was mid-week, and the place was rather quiet. She decided to sit at the bar and waved at the female bartender.

“A whiskey, please,” she said while pointing to the top shelf. “The good stuff.”

With senses sharper than those of a human and taste buds that didn’t tolerate subpar food or drink, she only drank quality alcohol. She could hold her liquor, though she didn’t like to drink to excess. Rather, she enjoyed a good glass of whiskey. After the first few sips, she felt how her body began to relax for the first time since she’d ditched her parents and hightailed it out of San Bernardino.

It was time to figure out how to make her parents understand that she would never accept a mate that she wasn’t in love with. Clearly, reasoning with them hadn’t worked and only made her father more determined to pawn her off on a man she couldn’t stand the sight of.

She needed help. It wasn’t a coincidence that she’d decided to head north the moment she saw the sign for the freeway. Instinctively, she’d made her way to see her brothers. If anybody could change her father’s mind and advocate on her behalf, it was Jude and Austin. Nevertheless, she’d stopped in San Francisco, less than an hour away from the Gallagher estate, where Jude was now the alpha. She needed a couple of days to get her head in order so she could make a case for herself before she faced her brothers and asked for their help.

“How about another drink? On me.”

Charlotte looked up. It wasn’t one of the bartenders who’d spoken to her, but a man who’d approached the bar. He wasn’t alone. Two other men were right behind him. None of them piqued her interest. They were in their thirties, decent-looking, well-dressed, yet nothing stirred in her. Besides, she didn’t like men who needed one or even two wingmen to approach a woman.

“No, thanks, I’m good.”

She turned her head back, lifted her almost empty glass, and drank the last sip. She tapped on the rim of the glass while motioning to the bartender. The woman nodded and reached for the whiskey bottle. As she poured the alcohol into her empty glass, the guy next to her huffed.

“So you do want another drink after all,” he said, his voice carrying an annoyed undertone.

She ignored him. She didn’t owe him or anybody else an explanation. Instead, she nodded at the bartender and handed her some cash.

“Let me get you your change,” the woman said.

“Keep it,” she said, then took a large sip from her drink.

“So, I’m not good enough for you?” the man asked.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed him sweep his eyes over her body, while one side of his mouth curled up in a sneer.

“Trust me, you’re not pretty enough to reject me. You’re a five at best. I’m a ten.”

The guy couldn’t shut up. He was starting to get on her nerves.

“I was doing you a favor by offering to buy you a drink.”

She turned slowly on her barstool to face him. “Then let me do you a favor in return.”

His expression changed to one of curiosity. His two friends moved closer, too.

“If you leave me alone, I won’t hurt you.”

Anger washed over the idiot who thought he was God’s gift to women.

“You heard the lady,” the bartender warned. “It’s time for you guys to leave.”

“Bitch!” the man hissed, though it wasn’t clear whether he meant the bartender or her.

It didn’t matter. His jaw clenched, and with another glare at her, he motioned to his friends.

“Let’s go. This place is going downhill.”

The three men left. Charlotte looked at the bartender.