Revenge to the Alpha Mate - Chapter 220
Chapter 220: Chapter 220
Celena’s Perspective
That idiot! How did he manage to get himself cut dealing with two bumbling, amateur human thugs? I could have handled it perfectly well on my own. A slight burst of werewolf speed was all it would have taken to drop the guy with the knife. I didn’t need him charging in like some action hero to take the blow for me… Well, okay, not exactly take the blow, but the result is still this gash on his arm.
My fingers worked deftly, tying an efficient knot in the bandage around his solid forearm while I silently grumbled. Strangely, beneath the annoyance, a trickle of undeniable sweetness seeped through, like honey leaking from a cracked jar. This was how we used to be. Whether it was me bruising my knee during training or him getting scratched by branches on patrol, one of us would always patch up the other—clumsily applying ointment, accompanied by a mix of fond scolding and exasperated sighs.
The accidental brush of my fingers against his warm skin sent a jolt of memory. I recalled the time I sprained my ankle; he didn’t just ice it, he patiently massaged it for what felt like ages, until I finally fell asleep, my pained grimace fading to the sound of his low, quiet laughter…
I snapped back to the present, realizing I’d been staring blankly at his bandaged arm, my cheeks and ears burning. Damn it! I quickly looked down, pretending to reorganize the first-aid kit, praying he hadn’t noticed my foolish expression.
Just then, the store clerk—the one who’d been knocked out and locked in the storage room—staggered out, rubbing the back of his neck. He profusely thanked us, saying if it weren’t for us, his store would probably be cleaned out and he’d be… who knows where.
We dumped the two robbers, trussed up like holiday turkeys, in a conspicuous spot outside the store, leaving them to “reflect” under the blazing sun. After taking the supplies we needed—mostly water and quick, filling food—we got back on the road. This time, I insisted on driving.
Jacob’s Perspective
That clerk… his timing was just the worst. I was thoroughly enjoying Celena’s rare, concerned touch. The coolness of her fingertips and her careful, precise movements were somehow turning the pain in my arm into a strangely pleasant sensation. Then the guy had to stumble out and ruin the moment.
Still, things were definitely better now. The glacier of awkwardness that had frozen the car’s interior seemed to have developed a significant crack. Our communication felt more natural, even allowing for brief, practical discussions about the route ahead. It reminded me a little of when we first met—a bit tentative, yet charged with that inexplicable pull.
Leaning back in the passenger seat, watching the world fly by, I couldn’t stop a slight smile from touching my lips. The cut on my arm throbbed with a sharp, fiery reminder, but I knew my werewolf metabolism would handle it swiftly. By tonight, it’d probably be nothing but a faint pink line. A small price to pay for that look of intense focus in her eyes and the telltale blush coloring her ears… Absolutely worth it.
Clerk’s Perspective
God bless those incredible young folks! They were like something straight out of a movie! Took down those two armed punks in seconds, moved so fast my eyes could barely follow.
And they were so decent. I tried to give them the supplies for free, to thank them for saving me, but the tall guy—even with his injured arm—insisted on paying. The pretty girl even pressed some extra cash into my hand for “the trouble.” Good people, through and through. You could tell the injured fellow was in surprisingly good spirits, his gaze constantly, almost unconsciously, tracking the young woman.
The cops? Ha, predictably slow as ever. Served those two jerks right, baking out there in the sun a while longer!
Two uniformed officers finally arrived, took our statements, looked over the scene. Everything seemed routine, until… the older cop knelt down, peered closely at the towel I’d used to wipe up a few spots of blood, and then… sniffed it? His face changed instantly. He exchanged a grim, serious look with his partner.
They completely ignored the two wilted thugs out front, instead coming over to tell me in hurried tones, “Have them wait here. Special units will take over.” Then they jumped into their cruiser. The engine roared like a beast, the accelerator practically hitting the floor—they tore off down the road, heading in the exact direction those two young folks had left!
My God! They’re chasing after those kind kids? Why? Because they helped me? This is all sorts of messed up! I hope their damn cruiser gets a flat tire!
Celena’s Perspective
My focus was on the winding road ahead when a flicker of blue and red light in the rearview mirror made my heart clench.
“Jacob,” I said, my voice tight. “Police car. Behind us. And… they’re moving fast.”
Jacob immediately straightened up, twisting to look out the back window, his brow furrowed deep. “Doesn’t feel like a routine traffic stop…” he muttered, his gaze turning sharp and assessing. “Accelerate, Celena. Let’s see if they’re really after us.”
I pressed the gas pedal. The engine growled in response. But the police car behind us didn’t fall back; it matched our speed, then began gaining ground rapidly. The piercing wail of the siren sliced through the quiet of the highway, a mocking, sinister sound.
This was all wrong. We’d just stopped a robbery. We were the good guys here. Why would the police chase us like this?
Jacob’s face had gone pale and grim. He drew a sharp breath, his voice low and deadly serious. “This isn’t right, Celena. I’ve got a bad feeling… they aren’t regular cops. Get ready. We might be in real trouble.”