Chapter 2
The warmth of the sunrays splayed over her back lazily.
Cricket sighed into the comforts of the linen sheets, rubbing her cheek up and down the soft fabric much like a satisfied cat. Her muscles groaned as she stretched, bones cracking along her spine with joy. It was then Cricket was confused about her surroundings. She opened her eyes, frowning as she glanced around to see that she was not in the motel.
Sleepily, she sat up and swung her legs off the edge of the bed.
"Da hell?" she murmured, blinking beadily at her skimpy self. At the moment, Cricket was only wearing her yellow-black mismatched undergarments. Being no stranger to randomly stripping in the middle of the night, the cowgirl merely shrugged and stood up, inspecting her surroundings.
The interior design was homey enough. There was a sense of balance and stability in the white walls and brown frames and furniture. But the many clothes that were strewn on the floor disturbed all the feng shui of the room.
She walked towards the open bathroom inside of the room, scratching her back.
There was a sound of metallic clinks but her fuzzy, sleepy mind didn't think much of it.
It was until after she used the restroom and washed her face did she realize something was wrong.
As Cricket reached for the room door, which was three feet away, her right foot was suddenly yanked back causing her to fall on the ground with a yelp. Her eyes blinked rapidly as she turned on her back to see a small silver cuff around the daintiness of her ankle. The thought process was so slow, exactly like mushy applesauce that Cricket didn't understand what the hell was going on for quite some time.
A very feminine screech rang through the air, throwing the crows into the air.
"Whut da hell is goin' on?" she yelled, tugging and pulling at the chain.
It was no use. The chain wouldn't budge and the cuff wasn't too keen on opening up any time too soon.
"Dagnabbit!" Cricket yelled, kicking out her legs in frustration.
"You're awake."
At those words, Cricket jumped to her feet and turned around to see the man who she had met in the bar. "Yew!"
Paul smirked. "Me." His hot eyes slid down her body and the smirk on his face grew with each square of skin inspected.
Cricket snarled, grabbing the corner of the blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her like a burrito. "Why?" she snarled, taking huge steps towards him. "Why da hell did yew do this to me, ya pervert! Whut do yew want? W'ere's my tour people?"
Paul turned away from her. He placed the tray of food he had in his hands on the mahogany table next to the window. He hadn't known much about his imprint other than the fact that she was most likely from the southern states. And that she was a tall, leggy, sex kitten in horrid raggedy-ass converse. But his pack had gathered a sufficient amount of information on her while she slept in his arms in the bar.
And he couldn't have his imprint leaving the state to tour the rest of the damn country when he needed her most.
So, while Seth had taken his imprint (something Paul literally had trouble to allow) and delivered her into his own home, Paul followed her scent all the way back to the motel near the freeway and literally purchased his imprint's tale of a lost soul wandering the state of Washington with a hottie from her tour guide who was rather more than pleased to get rid of her from his hands.
It didn't matter that the bastard didn't like his imprint or give a damn about her.
She was his.
"Ah'll call da cops!" Cricket threatened, pointing her index finger at him and waggling it. "Yew'll git in trouble, asswipe! Kidnappin's a crime!"
Paul smirked. "Nobody knows, baby. You're traveling the state of Washington for all who knows."
"Ah'm nawt!"
"Are too, with the help of some people." Paul strode over to her, eyes blazing with arousal as he watched his undergarment-clad imprint staggering back from his massive height. "You're mine, sugarlips. There's no one here to take you away from me."
Cricket snarled, stomping on the ground as she held herself down. "Nuh-uh! I ain't stayin' here!"
"Oh, yes, you are," Paul said. "You're stuck here. With me."
The dark-skinned man swooped towards her, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her against that long delicious body of his. His lips ravaged hers, throwing her into a hell of surprise as his tongue came out to play.
Cricket's mind was muddled with thoughts and feelings. She gasped as his tongue traced the inner workings of her mouth, bringing in her bottom lip to his mouth and sucking it vigorously. The redhead moaned like the sex kitten she appeared to be, scratching as his chest as he did some very generous pelvic thrusts towards the V of her thighs.
And just as quickly as it happened, it stopped.
Paul nearly wanted to throw his imprint on his bed and take her right there and then. Her mussed hair and adorably confused face made him throb with wanting. The bottom lip was a tad bit swollen, beckoning the wolf for a second taste. He merely grinned. "I'll see you later, sugarlips."
As quick as lightning, he gathered all the dirty clothes from the floor and threw it in the hallway randomly, as if he was ashamed of his mess.
She gaped at him as he very quickly kissed her deeply once more and just as fast released her and was gone.
Cricket blinked a couple of times, mouth gaping open as she fought to try and understand what the hell was going on. "Dagnabbit!" she cursed, kicking the wooden frame of the bed with her bare foot. She hissed and jumped up and down on one leg, holding the throbbing toe in one hand. "Ah'll cut yer skin al'ive, boy! Yer mama won't e'ven reckon to know w'ere yer body'll be hidden! Ah'll cut yer throat and kick yer ass to kingdom 'come!"
But all the threats went into the air and disappeared.
Snarling with much fury, Cricket stomped towards the tray full of breakfast and grudgingly admired it. She sat down on the wooden chair and snatched the plastic utensil from the tray. The fork stabbed into the neatly cooked hash browns, stuffing it into her mouth with much vengeance.
It might seem like an angry woman eating her meal to anyone, but to Cricket, she was mulling over a plan: a plan to escape.
Cricket was so concentrated on her breakfast that she didn't hear a muffled yelling at first. It wasn't until she got annoyed with a sound, did she lift her head up and gaped out the window.
There, in all his naked glory, was Jeremy.
"Cricket!" he mouthed (yelling through the glass window) as he pounded it with his fists. When he tried to say something else, an equally naked woman crept up from behind with a mischievous grin and snatched him away from the window.
She blinked blankly before turning back to her meal. "Ah could'a swore ah juss saw J'ermy!"
It was then she realized that the complete American breakfast (with the neatly cut potatoes, scrambled eggs, and wheat toast) was placed together with plastic utensils. Cricket brought the spork up to her face and frowned menacingly.
As if she was going to allow this to stop her.
Bringing up her ankle upon her opposite thigh, Cricket started stabbing the silver clasp around her ankle in hopes that it would fall off miraculously. When the spork broke and hit her right between the eyes, she shrieked in anger and threw it across the room.
"Dagnabbit!" she cursed, standing up rapidly. Like a caged animal, she started pacing around the room, muttering beneath her breath and crossing her arms over her chest, contemplating quickly on how to escape.
"Ah need a plan!" she whispered loudly.
The importance of her returning to the motel, along with Jeremy, was a big one. She knew that today was the day, directly at five o' clock in the afternoon, to pack up their bags and go back to the bus, which was probably fixed by now. She couldn't, she couldn't, miss that tour bus! Cricket just couldn't believe that her life was bought from that ass shat of a tour guide and was to be given to her parents! Her parents will believe, oh, they will! And that's what worried her the most.
They'll take her money!
Cricket spewed out colorful words like a sailor. When her hip bumped into the corner of a nightstand, she yelped and jumped back. It wasn't until Cricket was staring at the teetering lamp that an idea sparked.
She was a big gal. Standing at an impressive model height of 5'11, Cricket had a feeling that she could attempt this risky escape with a 50% chance of escaping.
First thing was first…she needed clothes. There was no way anybody would help a woman clad in her undergarments seriously. If anything it'll be jumping from the sizzling pan to the fire.
Her leafy green eyes scrutinized the area, stalking around from what the chain will allow to find some clothes. Within seconds of desperation, everything with doors and drawers were opened and empty. There had to be something here. Something! What kind of person had a room with no clothes?
It wasn't until Cricket went down to her knees and glanced under the bed to see a couple of crumpled clothes.
She pulled it out from underneath and stared at the slutty clothes on a prostitute could be proud to wear. Grimacing with a helpless shrug, Cricket pulled on the more than necessary ripped up daisy dukes that left her ass cheeks greeting the world with a friendly southern 'howdy'. The black painfully glittering halter top with a plunging v-line down to her navel made Cricket gawk at the audacity some women had to wear these clothes of ripped up paper in public.
More likely, Cricket was wearing the clothes of the asshole's previous conquests.
A grimace covered her features as Cricket attempted to ignore the fact that she was wearing someone's clothes, which was probably infected from the innumerous uncured STDs in the world.
"Focus on escaping!" she whispered to herself.
The determined woman turned towards the vase. She leaned her head from side to side, stretching out her arms to prepare herself for the battle that was to come. Practicing, she unplugged the huge lamp and turned to the bed. With practice shots, she lightly tossed the lamp onto the huge king-size bed, aiming for one spot continuously until she was certain that she wouldn't miss. If she did, there was backup with the metal trashcan off to the side that she can utilize.
As Cricket continued to practice, she heard the telltale of heavy feet walking down the corridor. Quickly, she held the lamp with a death grip and hid behind the door.
The footsteps stopped dead before the room door and stood there quietly.
Her eyes immediately went to the doorknob, which was twisting, but the door never pushed open. Cricket gulped, refusing to shift her weight from leg to leg as the sudden need to urinate blared within her mind.
The door slammed open without a warning.
Cricket yelped and jumped back before the door squished her against the wall. She looked up to see the man's face encased with a mixture of rage and fear. Quickly, she let out a war cry and threw the lamp at his head hard. It shattered into a bunch of ceramic pieces, raining on the floor with a xylophone sound to it. Not wanting to completely depend on the heavy lamp, she grabbed the metallic trashcan at her feet and swung it hard internally cringing when the trashcan dented and a sickening crack echoed.
His body dropped like a rock.
She panted, leaning back against the wall and felt her body come down from its adrenaline high. Her naked foot kicked out at the body. When he remained unresponsive, she dove for his pockets.
"Key, key! Ah need da key!" Cricket said loudly, searching for any key that might open the entrapment around her ankle before a raging monster started beating the crap out of her.
Lord all Mighty!
Her fingers closed around a small key and pulled it out. She nearly cried with delight as she fought to slide the key into the lock, missing a few times until she managed to hear a click. Cricket immediately jumped up and headed for the door.
She couldn't help but look back at the motionless body. As much as she wanted to run and cry with glee, something within her pulled her towards the man.
"Dagnabbit, ah a'int getting' no Stockholm Syndrome!" she snarled and turned away.
Small pale feet pattered down the steps of each stair. Cricket held her breath, glancing from one way down to the other in case there were other kidnappers in the area. Quietly, she approached the door in front of her and opened it.
As much as Cricket wanted to screech down the road for help, something pulled her back.
Again, the possibility from jumping from the pan into the fire blared in her head.
With a cautious outlook, Cricket stepped out of the house and looked around. She frowned, walking slowly out in the open as the area she was in looked off. Where she lived in the city with sidewalks and green grass, it seemed as if she was in the countryside of the states. There were dirt roads, tall, and many, trees, with houses that were scattered around with no sense of order.
Jesus Christ, it looked like she was in a murder movie.
Cricket gulped audibly, walking forward with her naked feet and ignored the pinching rocks piercing her skin.
"Are you okay?"
Faster than lightning, the redheaded cowgirl whipped around to see a woman standing on the porch of one of the houses with a rag cleaning a plate.
Cricket studied the woman.
The woman's head cocked to the right, her long black straight hair falling over her shoulder. The copper skin of the woman matched equally with her hair and her chocolate-colored eyes. She had a smile upon her face as gentle as a dove and as welcoming as a mother's as her eyes were filled with concern from Cricket's obvious need for shoes and other things. The only thing noticeable to Cricket's eyes from her place was the vicious marks down the side of her face.
She gulped, self-consciously pulling down the daisy dukes to avoid her ass cheeks from greeting the woman in equal kindness…it didn't help.
The redhead can only imagine she looked like a college girl avoiding the walk of shame.
"Ah was juss wu'nderin' if y'all would be so kind to tell me w'ere the hell ah'm at," she said, clenching her fists in to hold herself still and not fly out of the area like a burglar.
"Oh," the woman said, pausing in her cleaning of the plate.
Two spots of red appeared on Cricket's face when the woman glanced down at her wardrobe.
"Why don't you come in? I'll have my fiancé help you out with that."
And at those kind woman's words, a man stepped out from behind her. Imposing and intimidated, the man stood at a well six feet over. His shoulders were just as wide as the man who had kidnapped her, and looked like there were extra meats of steel packed underneath his skin. His face was just as threatening as his figure. Just like those two, his aura spoke of immediate command and obedience.
It clicked. He looked exactly like the man who kidnapped her.
Without even waiting for an explanation or her mind for a second plan, Cricket darted. She ignored the calls of the two, running through the trees for escape.
She heard a muffle call of her name, but shrugged it off. She'll find help for Jeremy at the police station and bring them.
Cricket moved her long legs quickly, ignoring the pain spiking through her side and the burning of her lungs. Her muscles screamed from weariness after a mere five minutes of running, but it didn't deter her. There was no option of running. All she had to do was continue forth, even when small sticks and stones wounded the softness of her naked feet. Thankfully, the trees were largely separated by a huge amount of space so that there wouldn't be any chaffing or scratching of her delicate skin. Not that she was going to let that prevent her from running wild.
The sound of a wolf howling nearly brought her to her knees.
"Oh, gawd," she cried out, glancing around.
She was going to be eaten by wolves.
With a burst of added adrenaline, Cricket sped through the ground like a knife cutting a loaf of bread. Old muscles from the old days of track running groaned with the remembrance of hard work and sweat that brought her first in many of her competitions. Despite her walking at 5'11, she conquered many of her races with grace.
Cricket's ears perked at the sound of heavy breathing. And that made her run uncoordinatedly with desperation, making her form becoming sloppy from it. She refused to glance over her shoulder at whatever the hell it was chasing her.
A flash of fur teased her peripheral vision.
Her foot hooked onto one of the surfaced roots of a tree, sending her slamming into the ground. Cricket groaned, slowly pushing herself up by her hands, looking up only to see wolves that could only be described as colossal surrounded her.
Her dirt-speckled face gaped at the wolves around her. A strangled whimper squeezed from her throat as the wolves began to circle around her. She didn't count how many there were but she knew there was more than enough to leave these tattered clothes of some slut on her deathbed. Her hands began to tremble as one wolf snarled viciously near her.
"Shit, shit, shit," she whispered, digging her fingers into the dirt and clenching hard to gain some sense of stability.
A random wolf came close enough to stick his cold nose against the length of her neck.
"Git away!" she screamed, stupidly slapping the wolf by the muzzle as she leapt up.
The innumerous growls and snarls from the wolves surrounding her was strong enough to make it seem like she was leaning against the engine of a car, listening to it roar to life.
"Away wiff yew, freakin' werewolves!" she yelled.
A nearby wolf made a noise that sounded like it scoffed.
Cricket glared at the wolves surrounding her. It shouldn't be that different from coyotes, right? Flailing her arms around, she screamed hysterically, clapping her hands and charging the wolves, hoping that they would retreat from her wild self. When the wolves did so, a small spark of hope flared within her and she continued to do her little wild dance.
"Git away! Yer ain't nuthin' but sum pile of fur!" she yelled, kicking dirt at their eyes.
One wolf snarled awfully, roaring and crouching to a point where Cricket thought it'd be the end of her life.
Suddenly, a sandy-colored wolf, small than those surround her, jumped in its way, flashing white pearly fangs glittering with saliva.
Without a warning, the two titanic wolves engaged in a fight. The one who had meant to attack her from the moment she sprayed dirt in its face, overpowered the small one that tried to defend her. Immediately, the two huge wolves rolled towards her and she yelped, only having a split second to dodge the snapping canines.
The other wolves were absorbed with the little squabble, biting and clawing at the two wolves fighting. It gave Cricket a chance to dodge through their huge bodies and run for safety.
There was no way she could've gotten away as much as she would've liked.
With the weight of a freight train, Cricket was slammed into the ground. A choking groan made way from her throat, eyes shut tight with pain as her ribs screamed from the little movement of her breathing. She gasped loudly and tried to prevent herself from gulping huge amounts of air as it was causing the agony along her side to skyrocket. Cricket whimpered with no shame, feeling tears pricking at the corner of her eyes.
A terrifying roar echoed through the eerie trees. It didn't catch Cricket's attention as she writhed in pain, holding her ribs gently; neither did the suddenly nervous shuffling wolves was brought to her notice.
Paul broke into the scenario like a madman out of the asylum, his panic-filled eyes shifting everywhere as he ignored his pack brothers. The wolf in him was full of anxiety despite the full on blow to the head he received from his imprint. Nothing of that mattered. What only mattered was the intense need to locate his mate.
"Where is she?" he snapped to his brothers, too high on worry to worry about how he talked to them.
"Paul," Embry said warningly, standing nude due to his transfer of forms.
Cricket didn't hear the agonizing bellow, but she did feel the soft petting of her face. She opened her leafy eyes to see pain-filled ones staring down at her. "Oh, gawd," she choked out and right away closed her eyes.
Her captor was there.
He probably unleashed these demon werewolves on her as soon as he noticed she went missing.
"What happened?" he snarled, glaring at his brothers as he held his imprint carefully within his arms. "Why is she hurt?"
Embry's shifting eyes to a nervous wolf made him flash his teeth at the prepubescent shifter.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Collin, who hadn't fully mastered his wolf/powers, was wringing his hands.
"I'm gonna kill you, Collin!" he howled, removing himself from his imprint and launching through the air. His human skin exploded with fur and his size grew multiple sizes bigger than his human body. Without further ado, he attacked the young pup that yelped in shock.
The others joined in, never noticing that the human behind them was staring with wide eyes.
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
What kind of weed had she been smoking? Had she even been smoking at all? Cricket lay on her back and turned her head away from the mess of fur flying around with viciousness only a snake could define. She blinked rapidly, holding her rib with her hand before she started laughing hysterically. The tension her body was filled with slowly eased away as she continued to laugh with no purpose and leisurely started sobbing like a babe.
With strength that came out of nowhere, Cricket forced herself up.
"Come here," the man said, bending down to help her up.
"I'm sorry!" she blurted, trembling with fear from the man-animal shifter. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
Paul wanted to cry from the sheer terror emitting from her body. His hands, which were about to land on her shoulder, froze in the air, unsure of what to do. The need to comfort and nuzzle her neck called him, but he refused to when she was quivering like a rabbit before the wolves.
He backed away from her, staring at her holding her side as her head bowed. Her red curls were like curtains around her face, preventing anyone from catching a glimpse of her.
She looked so fearful.
The rage, which had simmer from her sobs, grew back tenfold and all he wanted to do was shred Collin into ribbons.
His vision turned red, shifting to the already mangled teen wolf. The wolf in him snapped its pearly fanged jaws, chest rumbling with the need for blood over his imprint's distress. His unlimited ferocity, which he still had issues controlling (even with the help of Sam), exploded, and the temperamental wolf was unleashed with a fury of a thousand suns.
He blacked out.
And when he came back into his senses, something was amiss.
"Holy shit, someone call Sam!" Jared yelled, hovering over something. "Hey, hey, wake up!"
It was then, like a movie, images flowed through Paul's head like a river, showing him that through his actions, his brothers attempted to restrain him. And when Embry latched onto his back, Paul kicked out instinctively (much like a rodeo horse), throwing his imprint back and causing her to slam against a nearby tree.
Her limp, unresponsive body penetrated through his mind.
And because of that, Paul went ballistic.
Oh gosh, there were more than one scene for the ending and I couldn't choose the right one. I had a minor writer's block, but managed to get passed it! (: There was a little humor in the beginning, but I wanted the whole "I JUST SAW A FREAKING WEREWOLF" reality to be there, looool.
I honestly wish I could update everyday, but my life prevents me from doing that :( Because of that, my unscheduled updates often leaves reviewers waiting for ages just for the next chapter. I'm also balancing a fictionpress account with my fanfic one, so I often update one after the other.
Thank you for those who reviewed! I'm glad you're enjoying the story!
Again, I know nothing about Twilight, besides the obvious from the fanfics, and maybe some characters might be OCC. If so, please do tell so I can tweak them (: If anyone can feed me information on imprints and their feelings to their mates, etc., I'd really appreciate it!
Thanks for the reviews!
Regin Kathalla momoXvolturi Destinyrose18 xiMenagerie
Guest – I'm glad you're enjoying it so far! Hopefully, I can update this story more frequently, but we'll just have to see!