Who was Liam? That thought kept crossing his mind, tiny flashes of rage and jealousy accompanied by worry. She was obviously high, but not in a good way. And he had no idea what she’d taken so he couldn’t give her anything to help. But still, jealousy bubbled up above all else. She was his, damn it. No past ghosts could take her away, especially not like this.
His grip turned steely as she pulled against him and closer to the bridge. No way in hell was he going to loosen his grip until they were in a taxi, maybe not even then. His other hand went out to grip the side of her face and pull her into his chest, if only to muffle her screams.
“Shhh, calm down, Zoey. It’s Joseph.” He spoke softly, ignoring how she pulled and growled at him. He waved the few that were staring on with a glare before turning his eyes downwards and towards Zoey. “You’re hallucinating, darling.” His tone was gentle and soothing to the point where it surprised even him. A few weeks ago had you asked Joseph if he was capable of caring for a werewolf on a bad trip, he’d have laughed.
Zoey continued to struggle against Joseph’s grip, his arms around her doing nothing to stop the confusion in her head. Nails dragged their way down his sides and back, making contact with the fabric of his shirt. Had they been claws, he’d have had gashes — open wounds that would have been laid waste to the same throbbing pain that she was feeling at present. In the distance, Liam was getting further and further away, but his voice in her mind was clear enough that he might as well have been standing right beside her.
Come on, Zeta. Come closer. Come and get me outta here.
“I don’t know how,” she answered, making another more feeble attempt to tug herself free. Still no such luck. She’d never felt so trapped in her life. A look of rage was sent her way, barely visible amidst the darkness and the passing cars. It flickered behind his eyes just long enough that she could see. Then he was gone.
