Karly's Wolf (Hollow Hills Book 1) by Maren Smith, Penny Alley Page B
Authors: Maren Smith, Penny Alley
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couldn’t even breathe.
She vaguely heard Puppy growl a half second before two hard knuckles tapped the glass right by her head.
Karly knew she was freaking out even while she did it, screaming and grabbing at the steering wheel. She even dropped her phone. If it weren’t for the seatbelt, she’d have thrown herself into the passenger seat on top of Puppy, grabbing at him for security. Her eyes as huge as dinner plates, she stared at the very powerfully built man bending down to peer in through the window at her. His dark hair was shoulder length; his mustache, neatly trimmed. Tattoos wound up his arm all the way into his short sleeves. His hands were dirty, stained with engine oil. So was his bright orange t-shirt, which sported twin rifles crisscrossing one another and black, jagged letters that read, ‘If you can read this, you’re in range.’
He was a McQueen. He had to be. Her heart beat so hard, it hurt her ribs and still, when he tapped the window again and pointed ground-ward, she obeyed him, rolling the glass down just a crack.
Leaning his forearm along the roof of her car, McQueen looked at her. He looked at Puppy, dipped his head slightly to spit on the ground, and then looked back at her again when Puppy rumbled out another rolling growl.
“You lost?” he asked.
Karly shivered. Her wild glance darted from him to the dilapidated shacks sitting back from the road, nestled in amongst the shade trees. Two other men were sitting together on the front porch; another leaned against a support post with the long barrel of a rifle slung across his shoulders. Oh God, of all places to stop, she had stopped in front of their house.
Karly quickly shook her head. “No.”
“You’re the one moved into Margo’s up the road, that right?”
Puppy bristled, loosing another low growl.
McQueen looked at him, unfazed. “I heard you, and I’m not talking to you.” He stared at Karly again, then patted the top of her car twice. “Get on then.” He gave a jerk of his head. “My driveway’s not your parking lot.”
Karly didn’t need to be told twice. He was letting her go and she went, fairly flying the rest of the way home, driving much faster than she should have, much faster than was safe. She managed to stave off tears right up until her small cabin came into view, and then she lost it.
She couldn’t remember turning the car off and she didn’t get out. She just sat there, bawling and clinging first to the steering wheel and then to Puppy, who nosed his way into her arms and then sat stiff and still in the passenger seat while she leaned into him and gripped him like he was her lifeline. Her tears soaked his fur. Her panicked fingers pulled at his hair. But through it all, he made no move to break away and stayed with her until the storm of panic had subsided and the well of her tears ran dry. Her ragged breaths evened. She came back to herself enough to feel stupid and foolish.
“Sorry,” she whispered, feeling even more foolish for apologizing to a dog, who couldn’t understand her anyway.
As she pushed away from him, Puppy leaned over and nuzzled her cheek. The warm rasp of his tongue washed away a lingering tear. He offered no censure. He simply got out of the car when she did and followed her back into the house.
CHAPTER FIVE
Karly had lost her cellphone. How she could live in a cabin this small with so few belongings, and still lose something as vital as her phone?
She remembered snapping two quick pictures of her black eye and sending them to her lawyer. She thought she remembered plugging it into its charger on the kitchen counter afterward, but a few hours later as she came to the fridge to grab a quick bite for lunch, she noticed it wasn’t there. Turning in a slow circle, she eyed the counter, the bar that separated the tiny kitchen from the equally tiny living room, and the table. She searched the floor the same way. She even got down on her hands and
She vaguely heard Puppy growl a half second before two hard knuckles tapped the glass right by her head.
Karly knew she was freaking out even while she did it, screaming and grabbing at the steering wheel. She even dropped her phone. If it weren’t for the seatbelt, she’d have thrown herself into the passenger seat on top of Puppy, grabbing at him for security. Her eyes as huge as dinner plates, she stared at the very powerfully built man bending down to peer in through the window at her. His dark hair was shoulder length; his mustache, neatly trimmed. Tattoos wound up his arm all the way into his short sleeves. His hands were dirty, stained with engine oil. So was his bright orange t-shirt, which sported twin rifles crisscrossing one another and black, jagged letters that read, ‘If you can read this, you’re in range.’
He was a McQueen. He had to be. Her heart beat so hard, it hurt her ribs and still, when he tapped the window again and pointed ground-ward, she obeyed him, rolling the glass down just a crack.
Leaning his forearm along the roof of her car, McQueen looked at her. He looked at Puppy, dipped his head slightly to spit on the ground, and then looked back at her again when Puppy rumbled out another rolling growl.
“You lost?” he asked.
Karly shivered. Her wild glance darted from him to the dilapidated shacks sitting back from the road, nestled in amongst the shade trees. Two other men were sitting together on the front porch; another leaned against a support post with the long barrel of a rifle slung across his shoulders. Oh God, of all places to stop, she had stopped in front of their house.
Karly quickly shook her head. “No.”
“You’re the one moved into Margo’s up the road, that right?”
Puppy bristled, loosing another low growl.
McQueen looked at him, unfazed. “I heard you, and I’m not talking to you.” He stared at Karly again, then patted the top of her car twice. “Get on then.” He gave a jerk of his head. “My driveway’s not your parking lot.”
Karly didn’t need to be told twice. He was letting her go and she went, fairly flying the rest of the way home, driving much faster than she should have, much faster than was safe. She managed to stave off tears right up until her small cabin came into view, and then she lost it.
She couldn’t remember turning the car off and she didn’t get out. She just sat there, bawling and clinging first to the steering wheel and then to Puppy, who nosed his way into her arms and then sat stiff and still in the passenger seat while she leaned into him and gripped him like he was her lifeline. Her tears soaked his fur. Her panicked fingers pulled at his hair. But through it all, he made no move to break away and stayed with her until the storm of panic had subsided and the well of her tears ran dry. Her ragged breaths evened. She came back to herself enough to feel stupid and foolish.
“Sorry,” she whispered, feeling even more foolish for apologizing to a dog, who couldn’t understand her anyway.
As she pushed away from him, Puppy leaned over and nuzzled her cheek. The warm rasp of his tongue washed away a lingering tear. He offered no censure. He simply got out of the car when she did and followed her back into the house.
CHAPTER FIVE
Karly had lost her cellphone. How she could live in a cabin this small with so few belongings, and still lose something as vital as her phone?
She remembered snapping two quick pictures of her black eye and sending them to her lawyer. She thought she remembered plugging it into its charger on the kitchen counter afterward, but a few hours later as she came to the fridge to grab a quick bite for lunch, she noticed it wasn’t there. Turning in a slow circle, she eyed the counter, the bar that separated the tiny kitchen from the equally tiny living room, and the table. She searched the floor the same way. She even got down on her hands and
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