Wolf Read Online Free PDF

galvanized her after a moment. Leaping from the bed, she dashed into the bathroom with the clothes he’d given her, locked the door behind her even though that hadn’t proven to be much of a deterrent before, and skimmed out of her clothes. She’d didn’t wait for the warm water to kick in. Wetting herself down, she slathered soap all over, worked shampoo into her hair, and then rinsed as 17
    quickly as she could. The wind had damaged her hair and skin almost as much as the sun, and she took a couple of minutes to put cream rinse in her hair and lotion her skin.
    Contrary to what the asshole thought, it hadn’t occurred to her, once, to primp to incite lust! As scared as she was, she was still uncomfortable enough not to be able to dismiss it. Her scalp itched and every inch of skin that had been exposed—which was most of it—stung in spite of her efforts to keep from getting burnt up.
    The shower and lotion soothed a lot of her discomfort. She didn’t doubt that she was going to be miserable for a while, until her skin healed from the abuse, but at least she didn’t feel like she was still baking. When she’d dried off the best she could, she jerked the clothes on as quickly as she could, combed the tangles out of her hair and left the bathroom.
    To her relief, she didn’t meet up with Mac. After standing uncertainly in the doorway of the bathroom for a moment, scanning the room and then studying the open porthole she’d tried to climb out, she moved to a corner where she wasn’t in view of the bedroom door—which Mac had shattered—and curled into a tight ball.
    Truthfully, she was grateful now that Mac had saved her from her terror-spawned insanity. Death by drowning or shark wasn’t any more appealing than facing a boatload of horny, extremely dangerous soldiers. Being gang raped didn’t have any more appeal, but Mac’s behavior, oddly enough, had reassured her that she wasn’t on a boat with pure animals whether she was right and they were escapees from prison or not.
    That assumption bothered her once she’d had a little time to calm down and think.
    There was something about it that just didn’t ring true. From what she’d noticed, it seemed to her that all of the men were Americans, and soldiers. She didn’t know anything about the military, granted, but how odd was it that they’d have so many American prisoners—soldiers—in Guantanamo? They had Federal prisons on American soil for military men that had been convicted of serious crimes, didn’t they?
    * * * *
    Hawk had found the manual and dragged it out along with a stack of charts by the time Mac arrived. He sent Mac a questioning look, which he ignored. “Find what we need in the manual?” “Not yet. I was looking at the charts.”
    “You focus on the manual. I’ll study the charts.”
    Shrugging, Hawk glanced around for a perch and finally settled on the deck with his back against the wall surrounding the pilot deck. Mac flipped through the charts until he found the Caribbean and the coast of South America. The one thing that had firmed up in his mind about a destination was that they couldn’t head home. Aside from the possibility of infecting others with whatever they had, they didn’t stand a chance of being free long if they headed for the US. The military would have a nationwide manhunt going on the minute they landed and there were just so many places one could hide.
    He wasn’t in favor of merely hiding any damned way! There had to be somebody somewhere that could treat them, maybe cure them. If that had been the objective of the fucking assholes at Guantanamo, like they’d believed at first, they might’ve already been cured. It pissed him off to think of what all he’d fucking endured, believing they were honestly looking for a treatment or a cure, before it had finally been drilled into him that they didn’t give a shit about a cure. They wanted to know if they could replicate it, make more monsters like the ones