Lunar Rampage (Lunar Rampage Series Book 1)

by Samantha Cross

  “She really hates you.”

  “She’s just bitter.”

  “I mean, really hates you.”

  “I got it,” he silenced me. “You should have just ignored her.”

  “I couldn’t exactly don an invisibility cloak. She was waiting at the door.”

  “Damn, she’s weird.”

  “I know Owen tried to punch you tonight, but you gotta admit, he’s looking like the more enjoyable sibling.”

  “Is there not a third option?”

  I giggled.

  “How is the sleeping prince?” he asked.

  “I think he’ll be all right. He might have a bad hangover and smell a little funny, but he’ll make it.”

  “So, exactly how long has he had a thing for you?”

  I was flabbergasted. “He doesn’t have a thing for me.”

  “Yes, he does.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  “I think he does.”

  “Don’t you think I would have noticed something like that?”

  “If it involves you, no.”

  “We’re friends. We hang out. We haven't even known each other all that long. I really don’t think he has a thing for me.”

  “Just do yourself a favor and don’t get too close. That family has a habit of latching on to people and never letting go.”

  I leaned back into the seat as he pulled out the driveway. “That why you got rid of Molly? She got too invested?”

  “You know why. At least this way she can hate me.”

  “And you have no issue with someone hating you?”

  “Do I strike you as someone who cares?”

  I slowly shook my head. “You’re not as bad as you want people to think you are.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If you were such a terrible person, you never would have told me about Owen tonight. You could have left him there to stupor in his own drunkenness. But you didn’t.”

  “Who’s to say it didn’t cross my mind?”

  “It’s okay not to be a jackass 24/7. I promise.”

  “It doesn’t make me a saint to stop someone from driving into a ditch. Which is what he would have done had no one showed up.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Downplay your character so people will like you less.”

  He chuckled with a shake of his head. “This conversation is not happening. We don’t have to be silent on the drive home, but we really don’t need for you to analyze me like I’m a wounded puppy.”

  “Whatever you want,” I replied with a shrug of the shoulders. We were both quiet for a whole minute in the darkness of the truck. I’d glance over at him every once in a while and see this weird smirk draped over his face like he was going over our conversation in his head and chuckling at it. I wasn’t trying to analyze him, but I guess I saw how it came off that way.

  “Can I ask a random question?”

  Max kept his eyes on the road and replied, “Better than anyone I know.”

  “What does it feel like to punch someone?”

  “What?” he asked with a big laugh. I could tell he wasn’t expecting that.

  “When Owen tried to hit you, I couldn’t help but think how much it would hurt. You always hear about the person getting it, but never about the person dealing it. I can’t imagine your knuckles hitting bone would feel too good.”

  “What makes you think I’ve hit someone?”

  I tilted my head at him and raised my eyebrows. “You going to argue and say you haven’t?”

  “Okay, yes, I have. But the guy deserved it.”

  “What happened?”

  “Too long of a story to get into. I will say that I broke my hand.”

  “Whoa. You broke your hand on his face? He must have been a tank.”

  “He just had a really hard head.”

  “I’ve never even broken a bone before.”

  “Never?”

  “I thought I did once. I was on the monkey bars when I was in elementary school, and this idiot boy threw a rock at me and I fell. It was so dramatic. The pain in my arm hurt so bad I thought I was going to die. Unfortunately, all it was a horrible case of me hitting my funny bone.”

  Man, boys really hated me when I was a little girl.

  “I don’t recommend breaking a bone,” he advised me.

  “Of course. It’s still bad ass, though.”

  He tilted his chin up and grinned at me. “Bad ass, huh?”

  “Definitely.”

  We got back to my place just a minute later and instead of hopping out of his truck immediately, I asked if he’d walk me to the door. Now, it wasn’t for romantic purposes or anything like that. I was just deathly afraid of that beast slinking around in my yard, and with the luck I have I’d probably get eaten on my front lawn, and Grandma would be too busy watching Space Jam to hear.

  “Thank you,” I told him and then danced the house keys in between my fingers. I made sure to lock everything before I left, but really, if an animal was going to break in, it wouldn’t need the front door.

  “It’s not a problem,” he responded and I swear he almost bowed. Max was unaware of how humbly attractive he could be, and because of that he was even more attractive. God, listen to me noticing his looks.

  “I feel like I should be giving you cash or something for how much you’ve driven me around in this short span of time.”

  “You live right down the road. I think my gas tank can handle it.”

  “I don’t know, have you ever asked it?” I poorly joked.

  Max chuckled at me and tilted his head. It was the first time I noticed just how much he towered over me. “Why are you like that?” he asked.

  “Like what?”

  “Your weird, little awkward responses. It’s like you’ve never had a conversation before.”

  I shrunk to the size of a walnut. “Gee, thanks...”

  “No, no,” he quickly said and straightened his body. “It’s... kind of nice. You’re not as phony. I feel like I can get a good grasp on what you’re thinking.”

  “Is that always a good thing?”

  “You tell me,” he said in this soft, seductively low voice with his head slightly cocked to one side. Was he flirting with me? The guy from the woods who found me annoying? Flirting? I thought perhaps I was reading it wrong, but then noticed his body had gotten an awful lot closer to mine. Like he was moving in. I didn’t know what was happening, but I’m pretty sure I failed to breathe for five seconds. It was bad enough that he had taken me by surprise, but he had these deep, intense and unreadable blue eyes that were practically pouring down on me like sunlight. My palms turned into sweaty pieces of meat, and suddenly, I empathized with Henry. Oh, man, and I probably got some of Owen’s puke on me and had a gnarly aroma emanating from my clothes. Then again, I couldn’t have smelled too badly for Max to get this close to me, and yes, he was quite close.

  I swallowed hard and told myself to say something. Anything.

  “Do you like grapes?” I asked. Anything but that, Cora... FYI, I suck at uncomfortable silences.

  He stepped away and kind of threw his head back. He looked like someone had thrown a cold bucket of water on him. “What?”

  “I was thinking I should plant some grapes.”

  Max continued staring at me. I’m pretty sure I threw him for a loop, and instead of outright laughing at me he said, “They’re all right.”

  “Oh, so no tips on getting them to grow?”

  “No.” His scrunched up face was priceless. He thought I lost my damn mind.

  “Okay,” I responded and twisted my hands together. There were a dozen things I could have done in our weird moment. Like act cool or just go with it, but no, I started talking about fruit. Fruit. Fifteen-year-old me was inside screaming that I was an idiot. Oh, screw it, twenty-six-year-old me was screaming at me, too.

  This smirk came over Max’s face and then very smugly he wiped his hand across his chin
and mouth. I could hear the faint scraping sound of his whiskers against his palm. He then put both his hands on his hips and said, “You have a good night, Cora.”

  “You too.”

  He shook his head with a smile, like he was reliving our grape conversation again (I know I was), and then clomped down the porch stairs. As soon as he had his back turned to me I unlocked the front door and ran in.

  Who needs beasts when I can die of embarrassment?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Oh, Cora, come look at this little bird,” Grandma called out to me. She was slumped over the back of the couch, looking out the window with her rear straight up in the air. She had on a pair of pajama bottoms I got her for Christmas that had the words bootylicious written on the butt. I thought it was cute.

  I stopped doing my makeup from in front of the bathroom mirror, joined her on the couch, and asked, “What is it? A hummingbird?” I looked around at the tree branches by our window, but saw nothing. “Where is it?”

  “Right there,” Grandma said and pointed at the petals of a blossoming flower.

  I didn’t know whether to be appalled or laugh. “Uh, Grandma, that’s a bumblebee.”

  “A bumblebee? What kind of bird is that?”

  “It’s not so much a bird as it is an insect.”

  “I didn’t know birds and insects could mate.”

  I stifled a laugh. “Life is full of little surprises, huh?”

  “And hemorrhoids. Don’t forget hemorrhoids.”

  “With you around, Grandma, I don’t see how I could.”

  I got up off the couch and headed for the front door. “I’ll be outside on the ladder painting. Okay, Grandma?”

  “All right, dear. Just be careful. You don’t want to trip and fall to your death.”

  I knocked my knuckles against the wooden doorway three times, knowing she had just jinxed me. Till that moment, falling and snapping my neck wasn’t even a thought. Being eaten was, but not falling to my death.

  I just gave her a thumbs up and said, “Thanks for the pep talk, Grandma,”

  “I do what I can, dear.”

  It took me, I swear, ten minutes to get the ladder out of Grandma’s rundown barn and drag it the front of her house where I decided I’d paint today. The paint job was horribly faded and the corners of the house were so filthy and cobweb infested that I was afraid a creature would spawn from it and eat me.

  The whole time I kept thinking, what if I climbed up this ladder and that beast showed up again? Would I be stuck up there forever? Would it climb up after me? Would I end up living on the roof of my Grandma’s house for the next ten years till she remembered me?

  The forest had always seemed like a pretty backdrop to my grandma’s place, and a great source of inspiration for my photography, but now it felt like it was taunting me. I hated it and I never wanted to go back in there again.

  I tried so very hard to convince myself my brush with death was just a typical animal, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Something was terribly, terribly off. I told myself to close my eyes, erase the images of the long fangs, of this animal being able to stand upright like a human. Erase it all. Just finish working on this house and you can go back to the city where nothing like this will ever happen. It'll be like this was all a bad dream.

  I had my foot on the bottom step of the ladder when I noticed Owen walking down the road toward me. His stepping was off and he kept rubbing the back of his neck like he had a rough night. Truthfully, I was surprised to see him walking around at such an early hour. I thought he’d be in an alcohol induced coma.

  “Painting?” he asked as he approached. I could tell he was trying to act normal, but was failing. His voice was hoarse and his face white as a ghost. He looked like he had a bad case of the flu, but was pretending everything was all right.

  “You don’t look so hot,” I commented.

  “Uh, no,” he responded with an apologetic laugh and then wiped the corner of his red and exhausted eyes.

  “You should have said screw it and stayed in bed all day. Probably the best remedy for a hangover that I can think of.”

  “I would have, but I have things to do.”

  “Ah,” I replied as I climbed down the ladder.

  “Like come over here and apologize to you.”

  I instantly shook my head no. “Owen, really, you don’t have to. Besides, you must have told me sorry ninety times last night.”

  “Those were drunk apologies, most that I don’t even remember,” he admitted with a hint of embarrassment. “You deserved a sober one. So, here it is; I’m sorry.”

  I curled my lips in to hide a smile. He was so damn formal about everything. “Apology accepted,” I said to make him feel better.

  “I just had to come out here and say it in person after you driving all the way to the bar in the middle of the night to get me, and then the way I acted.”

  “We’ve all been there, drinking too much and saying too much. It happens.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t have to.”

  “It’s Max you should really be thanking. If it weren’t for him, I never would have known and your butt might still be sitting at the bar.”

  Owen lightly kicked at the dirt on the ground and then squinted like the sun was in his eyes. “Yeah, Max...”

  “I know you guys have...history, but he did a good thing.”

  “I know. Believe me, I know. I was thinking about it.”

  “You were?”

  “I was thinking about the two of you, actually.”

  “Oh, great,” I said with an uncomfortable laugh. He sounded like he was beginning a long speech, and long speeches were almost never a good sign.

  “I shouldn’t have acted the way I did when it came to you and Max. It’s none of my business and I shouldn’t have stuck my nose in it.”

  “There’s nothing to stick your nose into. I barely even know Max. We've talked, like, twice.”

  “But even if there was something going on, who am I to butt in?”

  “You’re my friend, Owen. You asking me who I am or am not dating isn’t really butting in. I confide in my friends, so it’s no big deal.”

  His freckled cheeks puffed from a big smile. “Either way, I’m staying out of it.”

  I chuckled at his persistence. “If that’ll make you feel better, but I disagree.”

  “It would. Now, you need any help painting?”

  “Yes, but you’re off the hook for the day. I’ve had a crazy night or two in the past and the last thing I wanted to do was paint a house under a blazing sun the next morning.”

  Owen grinned. “I appreciate it.”

  “Now go on. Sleep.”

  Owen turned away and stumbled down the slope at the beginning of Grandma’s yard. “Run, Forrest! Run!” I shouted, and though I couldn’t make out his face, I could hear him chuckling at me like I was an idiot.

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to let Owen in on my run in with the weird wolf. A part of me thought it was a good idea to warn him to stay in at night so it didn’t happen to him, but the other half of me was afraid he’d laugh at me like everyone else. Okay, maybe people weren’t openly laughing their butts off at me, but it was pretty obvious they were thinking I was ridiculous.

  I climbed back up the ladder and began the paint job. I was still on my first layer of coating when I heard all these sirens going off from a distance. It sounded far away at first, but then got louder and louder as the minutes passed. It was getting closer. Suddenly, I saw police cars whizzing down the road with their lights flashing and their sirens going off like crazy. Hardly anyone lived in the direction they were going, so I had no clue what they were doing.

  “What’s going on out there?” Grandma’s head was poked out from the window I was painting around, so her tiny blue haired self scared the living daylights out of me.

  “I don’t know, Grandma.”

  I climbed down the ladder so I could w
alk out to the road to get a better look of what was happening. Our yard was too far from their destination, but from a distance I could faintly make out the rear ends of patrol cars peeking out from the edge of the forest. A couple men got out of the cars and seemed to be headed into the woods, one who was accompanied by a German Shepherd police dog. Like they were searching for something. What the heck was going on?

  I saw Deputy Wilson’s patrol car coming down the road and expected him to pass, but to my surprise, he was slowing down and pulling to the side of the road in front of our yard. I waited on the lawn until he hopped out of the car and hastily came toward me. He looked pretty urgent and disturbed, so I met him halfway.

  “Deputy?” I asked formally.

  “Miss Nash, I was wondering if we could have a moment.” Oh, God, the professional tone. It made me feel like I was getting called into the principal’s office.

  “Sure.”

  He put his hand on my right arm very lightly and guided me to a discreet corner by his vehicle. Whatever was going on, he didn’t want other people to hear. I nervously chuckled and said, “I’m not in trouble, am I?”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Then what is it?”

  His eyes dashed back and forth around us to make sure no one was near. Then, very seriously, he said, “I was thinking maybe you could tell me a little bit more about your animal attack.”

  I wasn’t expecting that. “You mean what I called you about?”

  “Yes.”

  “You actually want to hear about that?”

  “Very much so.”

  “But I told you everything already. You said it was a stray.”

  He held his breath in like he was swollen with secrets. “I said that, yes.”

  I glanced at him sideways, and I could tell he knew I thought something was up. “What’s going on, deputy?”

  He was reluctant, but spoke anyway. “I suppose you’ll hear about this since nothing remains a secret there. You’re aware there have been men working out in the woods, right?”

  “Yeah. The saw buzzing usually wakes me up.”

  “Their bodies were found mutilated.”

  I gasped involuntarily, and had to throw my hand over my mouth not to show him the back of my throat. “Are you serious?”