Free Moon Lovers Box Set (BBW Werewolf Romance) by Mac Flynn Page A

under all the weight of the people," Greg replied.
    "How can a normal person get to the attic?" Cranston wondered.
    "Through a hole in the fifth floor ceiling," Cartwright spoke up. "I can show you where it is."
    "Then show me and quit with the showing off," Cranston ordered. A sullen expression slipped onto Cartwright's face, but he turned to lead the way.
    "Does Miss Taylor need to come? She doesn't look well," Greg asked the officer. I didn't feel so well, either. The shock was wearing off and after that bandanna guy knocked me around I felt like a punching bag at a cheap gym.
    "She can go wherever she wants in the apartment building just so long as she doesn't leave," Officer Cranston insisted.
    "I'll take her to my room," Greg agreed before Cartwright could renew his offer. Greg wrapped his arms around me and turned me to the hallway, but we had one more unpleasant bit of news.
    "Officer Brandy, stand outside the door and don't let anyone go in there," Cranston ordered his lieutenant. My paranoia was now as bad as Greg's, so I didn't take this armed guard as a comfort. Greg felt me shudder and gave me a squeeze of comfort. Then he led us down to the basement and into his abode, but he stopped the officer from entering.
    "You should probably stay out here. The only way into the place is through the hallway," he told Brandy.
    "Good to know," Brandy replied with a smile. He leaned back against the wall beside the entrance, and Greg shut the door behind us.
    "Is there really-" He put his hand over my mouth and glanced over to the door.
    "A little quieter. That door is thinner than his skull," he advised me, and pulled away his hand.
    "That's not saying much, and is there really only one way out of here?" I whispered, and was glad when he shook his head.
    "There's an escape through my bedroom. It's the crawlspace for the building," he told me.
    "In your bedroom?" I repeated. He nodded. "That's a strange place to put your bedroom."
    "I did that on purpose in case I'd need a quick escape."
    "In your pajamas?"
    "My enemies aren't particular about my dress when they attack."
    "Must be an epic battle with you in your briefs."
    "Boxers, actually."
    "My mistake." During our bantering he guided me over to the hard couch and sat me down.
    "You should be comfortable here until I get back," he told me.
    I bounced up and down on the cushion, or at least I tried to. It moved like a boulder. "I'm not sure if comfortable is the right word."
    "Safe, then."
    "That's a little more true except for the guy standing out there. You really sure the police are in on it?" I didn't want to believe it, but Greg seemed to know a lot more about intrigue than I did.
    "I'm more sure than ever."
    "Why?"
    "Because Cranston ordered you to stay here during the investigation even though he knows it isn't safe. He wants to know where you are so the Green Bandannas can get you."
    "I wish you were wrong-"
    "-but you know I'm right."
    "Yeah, that's the bad part, though not as bad as you turning into a werewolf. Mind giving me some more details on that?" I asked him.
    Greg shook his head and stood up. "Not until after I see what the kind Officer Cranston is learning on the roof," he insisted. "I don't want him putting two and two together and actually coming up with four."
    "Don't be gone too long," I replied.
    Greg smiled. "Missing me already?"
    "Are you always so modest?"
    "Only when it comes to flirting."
    I rolled my eyes and nodded at the door. "To be honest I don't want to be left alone with that guy out there."
    "I doubt they'll try another attack on you tonight," Greg comforted me.
    "Just in case, could you show me this crawlspace?" I suggested.
    "All right, but I bet you won't need it tonight," he insisted. He led me down the narrow hall past the storage room with its strange contents and to a door on the back wall. Greg opened it and guided me into what can only be described as a well-lived-in bachelor pad, complete with unmade bed, piles of dirty clothes