The lobby button lit up and Joan sucked up a final sob and shook herself off as the doors opened. She stared into the foyer so tempted to push the button to take her back up again. But he didn’t want her there. He’d stepped back. He’d let her go. That was his choice. And she didn’t want to be like Lanka asking him to do something he didn’t want to do. Elliott Jack was not the type of man you give your heart to, she told herself knowing it was too late. On 1st Avenue, running to the edge of the sidewalk to hail a taxi, she shouted at one, “Hey! Hey, stop!!” The car pulled over and she threw open the back door and climbed in, her body shook. “Thank you. Town, please.” They pulled away from the curb and she looked up toward her friend’s old floor. Pulling out her phone, she tried again to call. Again it went straight to voicemail. “Bonnie, it’s me.” Her heart twisted in her chest as she whispered, “Call me. Please.”***Elliott knocked louder on the door. It was only two in the morning.

Bonnie was riddled with an apology upon apology, her voice urgent. “Joan! It’s me. I just heard your messages. I lost my phone and then it died! I didn’t hear your message about the case and then turn off the phone. The battery died! Congratulations on the case! I so wish I’d known. I swear, Elliott found my phone at my old place. I wanted to call you, but I didn’t have your phone number or email and so I was going to come by your place and tell you in person. I’ve been telling you to get on F******k forever and if you’d listened to me, this never would have happened.” Joan’s lips squished up. It was true. Bonnie was a social marketing guru and knew everything about current networking sites while Joan stayed far away. I don’t want people I prosecute stalking me on the Internet. Bonnie continued, “You can ask Elliott! He’ll tell you the battery was dead.” Joan’s stomach hurt just hearing his name. “But hey, let me take you out for lunch. I don’t have any big meetings today! Let me take

Bonnie threw a potato chip in her mouth, talking with it full. "Well, we'd spent the last couple of weeks bouncing between places and I wasn't thinking anything because everything happened quickly and I think my head has been in the clouds." She waved a chip in the air, then ate it while still talking, “Then just yesterday after I–” Joan interrupted, “Oh yeah, you had a big meeting or something?” Bonnie shook her head. “It didn’t go well. A potential new client, but she wasn’t ready to commit. Still, laying the foundation down for something maybe in the future. Anyway, I call Nate and he shocks me with the news that Elliott wants to give us their place. It was his idea! He's so nice. I couldn't believe it. So generous. You haven’t been there yet, but they designed their whole flat and it is incredible. They’re talented. Nate says Elliott is going to completely makeover my place. I can’t wait to see what he does." Bonnie didn't see Joan's eyes lose their shine as she kept going on and

Lane picked up some clothes and a jacket, ignoring him and moving slowly. She turned and faced him, cocking her chin with defiance. Unleashing his restraint, he used all of his supernatural speed, appearing inches in front of her terrified face with his eyes in full shift-glow. He growled at her, his chest rumbling so thoroughly it vibrated hers, too. Urine rushed down her leg and she ran out, clamouring down the stairs. He knew this was dangerous, but he couldn't help himself. As soon as he gathered himself and knew his eyes were back to their normal human-like colour, he turned and dipped to his knees to be at her level. “Deborah, are you okay?” Holding one of the desk legs, she had tears streaming down her old bruises, and her cheek was red from the slap. “I’m fine.” “I heard her kick you. Is anything broken?” He couldn’t smell blood, but only she would know if something was internally damaged, like a rib. She sniffled and shook her head. “No.” “You want to come out?” Climb

Elliott stared at the phone waiting for Joan to reply. The T.V. was on Universal and a repeat of Supernatural had been amusing him to no end. Until now. "You’re not going to even answer my text?" he muttered, his hand on the soft cotton of his t-shirt. He meant to sleep in that day since it was the weekend and their firm was closed. A wolf's hours are in the night, and day sleeping was natural. He and his packmates indulged themselves at least twice a week, and today was supposed to be one of those days, but he'd dreamed of Joan all night and woke with a hard-on that wouldn't quit. He wouldn't let himself fantasize about her because it would only feed the beast. He’d stupidly thought texting was a good idea since he had to tell her about Deborah in case she called. But he realized with each passing second he waited for a reply that it was the worst thing he could have done. The obsession he’d abated was now in full swing. Jumping off the couch, he paced around Bonnie's old apartment