Promising Peter (Bad Boy Alphas) (Shrew & Company Book 6)

by Holley Trent

  “I bet if you had to relive the past, school wouldn’t be so hard.”

  “I’m sure it would still be hard, just for different reasons.”

  She was still shy, retiring Drea who hated being the center of attention and who got stressed when expected to be a leader even in a project group of four. Bryan may have gotten that bossy gene, but it’d passed Drea over at the time of her conception.

  “I’m…happy to be behind the scenes,” she added. “You don’t need to be a genius to do what I do, just proactive.”

  “I still think you’re smarter than you let on, and in time, we’ll all see how much.”

  “Don’t count on very much. And you don’t have to try to inflate my ego to make me feel better about myself. I’m okay with the way I am.”

  “I’m okay with the way you are, too.”

  Drea rolled into the kitchen and grabbed the last blueberry bagel from the delivery box. “You don’t mean that. You don’t even know me.”

  She wished he’d meant what he’d said, but if he didn’t, she hoped he’d be kind to her anyway. Perhaps in time, he’d get used to her deficiencies. She might not have had the fortitude of a Shrew, but she still had value, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to feel otherwise anymore.

  And she wasn’t going to let things she wanted slip through her fingers anymore, either, and that included Peter. She needed some idea of where his mind was, so she knew what course of action to take. She’d never been in a long-term relationship before and didn’t know what they were supposed to feel like, but she knew Bears pretty well. Connecting with Peter would be easiest while the mating fever rode him. Because of her own stupid inner bear’s antics, she was running out of time.

  She pulled in a bolstering breath. “Peter, when you get back, would you like—”

  “Shit. Need to move closer. Gene’s walking around.” He disconnected.

  Drea stared at her phone, sighing.

  “That went well.”

  She rolled back to her desk in time to send off Dana, Tamara, and Maria.

  “Doc is going to pick you up and take you home tonight,” Dana said, her hand already on the doorknob.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary. I can drive myself home no problem.”

  “I know you can, but I’d feel better if you let her take you home or if you’ll stay in the apartment upstairs for tonight. The furnishings are barebones, but should be comfortable enough.”

  “I think I’ll do that. I’ve got a change of clothes in my car.”

  “Good. Plus, that way, you can go ahead and get her examination out of the way. Not sure how you slipped away from her when she was here earlier. I’m sure she’s already got her medical bag all packed and a fresh computer file already open for you.”

  “Oh, joy.”

  Dana laughed and opened the door. “It’ll be okay, I promise. If you happen to have any other startling revelations about Gene, call me and then call Bryan.”

  “I will, but I think I’m all tapped out on brilliance for the day.”

  “Somehow, I don’t think so.”

  Dana and the other ladies squeezed through the doorway with their gear, and Dustin gave Drea a searching look.

  “What?” Drea asked.

  “So, you and Peter, huh?”

  Cheeks burning again, Drea hid behind her computer monitor. “My my, word gets around.”

  “Shoot, come on. I’m just asking so he doesn’t get a wild hair to put a hole through my head. I don’t know if you’ve ever had the extreme displeasure of being bruised by Tamara, but I imagine her brother would hurt me even worse.” He put up his hands and leaned back. “Shit, girl, I’m just tryin’ not to have my ass handed to me the next time he sees me.”

  “He’s not going to beat you up just for having talked to me. He’s not that…” She was going to say “invested,” but she was working on being less of a pessimist.

  “Not that dangerous?” Dustin supplied.

  Drea shrugged. “Sure.”

  He guffawed. “Cute that you think so.”

  “I’ve never seen him as that. Soren, maybe, but not Peter.”

  “I bet you’ve never seen Bryan as dangerous, either.”

  “Well, he’s my brother.”

  “See. Your perception is skewed. If I had to rank those motherfuckers in order of their ‘Yo, scary, stay away’ factor, I’d put Peter right at the top.”

  “What?”

  Dustin let out a sputtering breath. “See, you’re blinded. Ask anyone else in the clan, they’d probably tell you the same thing. Don’t get me wrong, Bryan and Soren aren’t to be discounted—not even a little fuckin’ bit—but I think Peter has them trumped hands down as far as practicality goes. That’s a dangerous thing. Makes him less flexible.”

  “And I’m nothing but flexible.”

  Dustin leaned his forearms on the edge of the desk and nodded. “I think that’s why you can do all the right mental gymnastics to see him as safe and approachable whereas any other woman in the clan would only risk looking at him through a locked door’s peephole.”

  “That’s really how you see him?”

  “Shit, girl, that’s how he is. Damn.” He scoffed and leaned back in the seat, slouching low. “I hope one day I’ll stumble onto a lady who can do those kinds of mental acrobatics for me. Tamara said with all the shiesty shenanigans I have to my credit, no woman’s ever going to want me.”

  “Aw, that’s not true. You have a lot going for you.”

  “Like what? Beyond being sober, I mean.” Dustin rubbed down the sides of his goatee and fixed his gaze on the ceiling. “I imagine most folks who knew me before Bryan pulled me away from Gene only know me as ‘Smoky’—the guy who never had less than an ounce on him and who always smelled like he’d smoked at least that much for breakfast. At least, that’s what Bryan says.”

  Drea pulled a notepad closer and picked up her pencil. “Who were you getting your weed from, anyway? Local connections or one of Gene’s dudes?”

  “Gene’s hookups. They had better shit. I was the one coordinating half those drops, so I got first pick.”

  “Bryan nabbed a couple of Gene’s drug associates last year and we’ve had less illicit substance in the area since then, but…would you happen to remember who those guys were working for? Remember hearing any names thrown around? I know it was a messy time. I’m just trying to see if I can get a hold of anyone from that part of Gene’s network so I can do some more background checking on him. I get the sneaking suspicion that much of what we know about him just isn’t true, and I want to know what his end goal was. Being a shapeshifter alpha isn’t exactly a glorious job.”

  Dustin groaned and, with his eyes closed, massaged his temples. “Damn. It wasn’t like we ever swapped business cards or nothin’ like that. When I had to meet up with them guys, I rarely even told folks my name. They just knew to expect me. I do remember once being really impressed by the suit on one new guy who’d showed up at the drop spot one day. I mean it was sharp, Drea. Steve Harvey don’t even have shit that nice.”

  Drea ducked behind her computer screen again so Dustin couldn’t see her eyes goggling. Suffice it to say that she and Mr. Harvey didn’t share the same taste in suits.

  “Dude was real pissed for some reason when I met up with him. He was mad he had to make the run, I guess. I think he was a higher-up. Drove a real slick whip, you know what I’m sayin’? Yo!” Dustin grunted and shook his head. “Shiny black Escalade, tinted windows and everything. Truck was so fly, I had to walk around it twice to take in all the chrome. Balla shit.”

  Drea pushed up a brow. Dustin was so white, he was practically see-through. He’d actually grown up a richie-rich in some California suburb. He had a tendency to say that he couldn’t help the skin he was born into and that he was going to “be fly in spite of it.” The Shrews and Bears had all pretty much come to terms with how he was. He wasn’t changing anytime soon. If ever. He claimed to be “down for life,” wha
tever that meant.

  “I remember at the time,” he said, “I couldn’t help but to think, ‘Damn shame he’s got that sticker on the gate.’ Totally spoiled the aesthetic, know what I’m sayin’?”

  “What kind of sticker? Like, a rental car sticker?”

  “Naw. It was…” He cringed again and closed his eyes tight. “Ugh, naw, a company sticker, but not a rental company. Maybe his company.”

  “Describe it to me.”

  “I think red and white. Had black accents, and a C with an arrow pointing off it, made into the shape of a pill.” He opened his eyes and nodded hard. “Yup. I remember that, because at the time I was wishing I had a handful or two of pills to swallow. That’d been a real fucked-up day. Some dude didn’t pay me the money he owed me and a supplier called threatening me and shit.”

  Drea hurried over to the storage closet and found the bucket of markers she used to keep clients’ kids entertained when their parents were handling business in the office. “Draw the logo for me,” she told him. She gave him the bucket and grabbed some blank paper from the printer tray. “Do it with all the colors.”

  “Coloring, girl?” He pushed up one sharply-groomed eyebrow. “You really think this is important?”

  “Gut feeling? Yeah, I do.”

  While Dustin drew and colored, Drea warmed up the scanner. She had a hunch. She didn’t like that hunch, but if she was right, Gene’s involvement with the Ridge Bears had less to do with his desire for power and more to do with money.

  She also had a hunch that whatever Gene’s original mission was, he’d gone off the rails, and no longer had anything to lose. That was what made him dangerous.

  She sent Dana a brief text summarizing her suspicions and set Dustin’s doodle onto the scanner glass.

  She pushed the button, and then met his eager brown gaze over the top of her computer monitor. The poor guy really did have a rough time. He had done some questionably moral things while under Gene’s employ, but he was a nice, funny guy with a big heart who tried hard to not let his friends down.

  Drea wasn’t going to let him down, either.

  As the image loaded on her computer screen, she wriggled her eyebrows at him. “I forgot to mention this. I know someone who might be interested in a reformed Were-bear.”

  “Any reformed Bear in particular?”

  “Uh-huh. You.”

  He perked up. “F’real? Well, what’s her name, girl? Where she at?”

  Drea chuckled. “Well, see, the thing is, she’s not a Bear.”

  “No?”

  Drea shook her head. “She’s a Catamount. Part of Patrick’s group.”

  “Shit, girl, which one? That group is mostly female. Could be any number of folks.”

  “You interested?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  Shoulda known. “She’s…the old leader’s granddaughter.” The same leader who’d screwed the group over and who was responsible for Patrick getting turned against his will.

  Dustin groaned, and threw his head back. Just as quickly, he straightened up. “Wait. The one with the big green eyes and the bangin’ booty? That the one you talkin’ about? I thought she only liked Cats.”

  “She likes Bears well enough. After all, Cats can’t really afford to be picky. There aren’t many of them, and she knows there’s some taint to her family’s name after what Billy did to the group. She’s certainly not going to eliminate any names from the very short list of potential mates.”

  “And she likes me?”

  “She thinks you’re funny, and…” Drea stifled a snort. She didn’t want the guy to take her amusement personally. “Sophisticated.”

  “Sheeee-it. All right, now.”

  “I’ll ask if she wants me to give you her number, okay?”

  “Please do. I ain’t trying to be single this summer.”

  “Me neither.” Drea needed to make sure Peter knew that, too. If she had her way, she’d be mated by weekend.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Peter, Bryan, Soren, and Eric hadn’t retreated so much as pulled back to give Gene a bit of room to hang himself. From their position in an abandoned farm stand on the neighboring property, they could still easily see the comings and goings on the farm with the aid of binoculars, though they would have to haul ass to catch up if Gene really did decide to hit the road again. They didn’t have to whisper anymore, though, so that was one benefit of the distance.

  Soren, squatting in one corner and squinting at his phone screen, said, “I wouldn’t normally suggest calling for law enforcement backup, but I think in this case, doing so would be justifiable.”

  “What are you thinking?” Peter asked.

  “Well, for one thing, the owner—his ex—she’s a registered local business. She’s got the sign at the road and a toll-free number and everything. If she’s not answering her phone for hours on end in the middle of the day, it’s logical that someone would be suspicious about why.”

  “Especially people who’ve done business with her and are used to coming by at certain times,” Eric said. “Yeah. My neighbors near the lodge would do that to me if I suddenly stopped answering the phone.” He rubbed the scruff on his chin and peered out the little ventilation window toward the paddock. “He can’t possibly take any additional hostages. He’s just one man, and aside from his propensity to cut people, there’s a chance he’s not as dangerous as he lets on. Plus, the parents of those kids are going to start showing up soon when their kids don’t go home. He’s going to be vastly outnumbered. The thing we need to be most concerned about right now is getting close to the house without any of the kids or the lady getting hurt. We want zero casualties.”

  “Dana and the girls are nearly here.” Bryan squinted at his own phone. “They parked down the road. They’re going to hoof it. They’ve been in situations like this before where they’ve had to extract children from a scene before a firefight, so they’ll be better at strategizing on that front than we are.”

  Tamara slipped quickly into the small building with Dana and Maria on her heels. Tam looked from Peter to Soren, saying nothing, then said “hello” to Eric, and went to Bryan.

  Peter rolled his eyes.

  Maria went straight to Eric and let him pull her into an embrace. “Did you get a count of how many kids are in there?” Maria asked.

  “Unless they’re swapping out clothes and muddling our count, the best we could discern from this distance is that there are three, in addition to the owner’s son.”

  “Gene’s son, you mean,” Dana said. “Poor kid. And four’s not awful compared to some situations we’ve had to defuse, but I’d prefer they not be involved at all.” She peered out the window and unsheathed one of her guns from its holster. The weapon wasn’t one of her usual firearms, as far as Peter could tell, but one that had been modified to shoot tranquilizer darts.

  “You want me to hold onto that?” he asked.

  “Sure,” Dana said through gritted teeth. “I likely have the keenest vision of anyone in this room right now, so if I have to take a shot from a distance, I won’t be using that little peashooter.” She bent and unzipped the large duffel Tam had deposited near the door and lifted a rifle from the bottom. A high-power scope was mounted at the top, perfect for lining up sniper shots.

  She held up a couple of bullets—one silver, and one Peter had never seen the likes of before.

  Peter took the second and rolled it in his palm. “What is that?”

  Soren peered over his shoulder.

  “Doc had some friends of hers specially develop new ammo for us,” Dana said. “She calls them Tranquilizer Darts 2.0.”

  “Doesn’t look like a dart. Looks to me like any other bullet.”

  “That’s because it has to be fired like one, but it doesn’t go through the body the same way. The chemical reaction that occurs when you fire the gun weakens the outer casing, and when the bullet impacts the subject you’ve fired at, the point retracts and falls away so the trio of injector
prongs are exposed.” She rubbed her thumb over the pointed end and ground her teeth. “It’s like a bee’s stinger. Clings to the flesh so the prongs have time to deposit the drug.”

  “And because when a person is shot, their compulsion isn’t to knock something away but to put a hand over the wound…” Maria said.

  Eric grunted. “Right. If they press a hand where they’re hurting, they’d be helping to move the drug along.”

  Dana nodded. “The bullets have been tested and have been successful at shorter ranges, but if push comes to shove, we’ll take him where we can get him.”

  “We want him alive,” Tam said, looking squarely at Peter.

  His turn to grunt. “I know that was the plan,” Peter said, “but sometimes, plans change on the fly.”

  “Oh, we’re doing this by the book, and I’m going to tell you why.” She plopped her hands onto her hips and raised her chin at him. It wasn’t daring posturing—and he’d certainly seen enough of that from Tam to be able to recognize her version of it—but stubborn resilience. Typical Ursu. “We have a very smart lady back at our office.”

  “Do you?”

  “Mm-hmm. She’s far too good for you, but that’s neither here nor there. The point is, she’s been asking lots of people lots of questions that no one else thought to ask before. The answers didn’t matter before, I guess, because we’ve been running in barebones survival mode for so long and we haven’t had time to do much of anything that didn’t involve a confrontation of some sort.”

  “And what did this smart lady who’s too good for me find out?”

  “Well, first, she found out that quite a bit of the illicit substance Gene was bringing into the area was manufactured by a drug company with a very special interest in freaks like you and me.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Mm-hmm.” She nodded and smiled sweetly. “They disguised their activity by hiding what they were doing among the rest of the drug trade. They were sending drugs into the area knowing all that weed and meth would get into the hands of depressed Bears and Catamounts and whatever else. They certainly were responsible in part for depressing them. And they were very interested in seeing how their drugs would affect them.”