I don't Mate with Jerks

Chapter 37 ~ Six feet of Hell

Hey y'all! Hope y'all are still enjoying IDMWJ! Y'all are, like, THE BEST!

PLEASE 

COMMENT

AND

VOTE!!!

~KC Blares

************************************************************************************************

Chapter 37 ~ Six feet of Hell

 

            KC’s P.O.V.

 

The cement floor was frigid beneath my bare feet. I was in a house. In the effing basement. That’s all I knew. And by the looks of it, it was a very large house with a very expansive basement. Getting fed up from running around like a lost puppy for a few minutes, I was maybe the happiest person on earth when I saw wooden stairs leading up to a doorway. I sighed, sprinting to my escape, the wooden stairs creaking under my weight.

But then the doorknob turned before I could grab it. I gasped, looking around for a place to hide. There was no possible way I could fight a rogue in the condition I was in and then have a whole bunch more on my tail. Flicking out my claws, I held my breath as I climbed under the stairs, digging into the wood and remaining as still as I could. The door swung open and Matt, I think his name was, leisurely walked down the stairs, whistling along as he did.

I bit my lip, hoping he couldn’t smell me and my emanating heat. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice me or my scent and kept walking, unfortunately towards the room our mutual friend was chained up in. Quick to act, I kicked my feet over and my body followed, now on my hands and knees on the stairs. I didn’t hesitate, however, before carefully slipping out the door, finding myself in an expensive looking kitchen. For a perverted sleaze, the guy made a lot of money in order to afford the house. But that moment wasn’t the time to gawk at the marble styled kitchen. Hunched down low, I sprinted across the kitchen, the air reeking of male wolf.

I gagged, trying to cover myself with the torn dress shirt as much as I could while sneaking out of the kitchen and into a main hall, the grand, dark oak front doors screaming my name at the end. I heard more voices echoing down the hall from behind me and took that as my hint to get the hell out of there. I reached the brass door handle, a surge of excitement running through me, but then a bullet flew by my ear, lodging into the door barely an inch beside my head. I whipped around to see Doyle and Matt standing in the doorway of the kitchen, Doyle had a gun raised up, smoke still flowing in a light stream from the barrel.

“It’s not going to be that easy, sweetheart,” Doyle hissed, half of his face painted red with blood. “It’s never that easy.”

I couldn’t find any words. I was too stunned to think of any. I looked around at the gathering rogues, questioning my escape plan. Then, a pair of ghastly grey eyes caught mine and a painfully familiar face winced at our eye contact.