Chapter 4

My blood froze solid.

That wasn't Lucas's voice. The guy from this morning—mumbling, empty eyes—and this guy—low voice, dangerous—they weren't the same person.

I was stuck. My brain was empty.

He stood up from the couch and walked toward me. In the dark, he seemed huge and heavy.

I stepped back and hit the wall. There was nowhere to go.

He stopped right in front of me, close enough I could smell the clean soap.

"You..." My throat was dry. So I could only utter one word.

He reached out. His fingertips brushed my cheek. Cold touch. But it burned.

"Not a bad plan." His voice was quiet. But in the silent room, every word was clear. "Find the lowest guy you can. Someone your scheming sister can't touch. Someone her usual tricks won't work on. Use him to push your parents' buttons. Make them think you're crazy. Buy yourself some freedom. Sarah. You're smarter than you look."

He nailed it. Every single thought I'd had.

I was cold and scared. My plan was totally exposed.

"Who are you?" My voice shook, but I got it out.

"Someone who needed to be 'slow' for a while. Just passing through." He said it like it was nothing.

"What do you want?"

"I should be asking you that." His fingers touched my chin and lifted my face.

Under the moonlight, I finally saw his eyes clearly.

No emptiness. No fog. Just deep blue. They were sharp and cold like a hawk's eyes.

"You picked me up at the scrapyard. Not worried you brought home trouble?"

"I..."

"Let me guess." He cut me off. "You thought you could control me. A burger. Clean clothes. A couch. That buys loyalty. You're naive."

My heart sank. He was right. I thought he was a tool. Easy to use. Turned out, he had his own thoughts the whole time. He had been watching me.

"New deal," he said.

"What deal?"

"I keep playing your slow boyfriend and help you with your family problems. You give me a place to hide. No questions. No looking. No telling."

"Why would I agree?" I tried to push back. "I could kick you out right now. Tell everyone you're a fake."

He smiled. It was a cold smile. "Try it. See who they believe. You—the girl so desperate she grabbed a slow guy off the street. Or me—the 'poor disabled kid' with papers to prove it."

I froze. He knew I couldn't refuse.

"And," he leaned closer, his voice lower, like a devil whispering, "you really want to quit now? Your fight just started. Don't you want to see Emily and your parents pay for what they did?"

That hit me right where it hurt.

I hated them. Of course I hated them. Emily's lies, my parents' favorites, and all the pain.

"I can help." Lucas's voice was smooth and tempting. "I can take away everything she cares about and make your parents wish they'd treated you differently."

"I..."

"You in?" He waited.

I looked at his eyes. I knew I didn't have a choice. From the second I brought him home, there was no going back.

"Okay." My own voice. "I'm in."

He liked that. He let go of my chin. "Good." He stepped back and put space between us. "Remember. From now on, we're partners. Equal. Daytime, I'm your tool. Nighttime, we're allies."

Then he turned. He walked back to the couch, lay down, and pulled up the blanket.

Everything was quiet again, like that whole scene never happened.

I stood there forever. Finally, I dragged myself to my room. I locked the door and leaned against it.

My heart was still racing.

I brought home a wolf. A wolf way more dangerous than Emily and my parents put together.