by Kathryn Moon
I pulled Baby in for another bear hug, the pair of us swaying in place, just a little tipsy. “It’s less fucking terrifying when I have you at my back.”
“Woman, I was ready to bust up some alphas when I got your text. You cannot put me on high alert like that. I have an arsenal of bikers ready to do my bidding!”
I giggled and pulled away from Baby. It had been a long ass night. A long ass month, but it was good to be here right now. The only dampener on the moment was the fact that I knew my guys were stressing. As Baby texted Scorch our drink order and headed to the bathroom with a bucket of face mask options, I dug for my own phone.
I’m sorry I left in a rush. I know you all deserve a better answer to your offer, and I want to come back ready to give the right one, I texted to them all in one message. Baby’s determined to talk sense into me, and I’m determined to let her. Love you, Lola.
Fifteen
Matthieu
I ran my finger across Lola’s text from the night before, as if it might bring her back to my arms. We’d all answered, one by one, with encouragement and sweetness and acceptance. I wondered if anyone else had felt the way I had—ready to drive at high speeds to Old Downtown and steal Lola from the biker’s pack. Not that I had anything against them. Nothing except that was where she was, and I was not.
The elevator chimed and Cyrus tapped my elbow, shaking me out of my head and back into the moment. I slipped my phone into my pocket and gave him a grateful nod as we stepped out into the hall.
“You know she’s here today,” Cyrus said, and I grunted in answer. “You could just swing by her office. See her, tell her you love her, throw her over your shoulder and carry her to the nearest privately located flat surface.”
My lips quirked, and I glanced at Cyrus out of the corner of my eye. “I can’t, and you know it.”
Cyrus rolled his eyes, pushing into the office with his shoulder. “I wonder if we aren’t being a little too respectful of her boundaries. Maybe what she needs is an alpha push.”
I gritted my teeth. Part of me wondered that too. But the rest was determined to follow the route we’d taken—the one we’d promised Lola at the beginning—that she would be able to choose when and with whom and how she entangled herself with our pack. Now was either the perfect time to break that promise or the worst, and I wasn’t ready to risk the latter.
“Aside from respecting her wishes, I can’t imagine it would go over well for her to have me making a scene of our relationship,” I said.
Cyrus grinned and laughed at that. “Maureen certainly wouldn’t appreciate it, that’s true. I just don’t think we should leave room for her anxiety to prey on her during the absence and make her think we aren’t waiting impatiently for her return.”
I paused in the doorway of Cyrus’ new office, watching his back as he walked to his desk. I knew Cyrus cared about Lola, and I'd seen the evidence of his attraction to her, but he hadn’t been very clear about his intentions with her beyond that. When he slid into the chair behind Wendy’s old desk, I caught his eye and tipped my head.
“You too?” I asked. Had Lola woven her shy spell over all of us?
Cyrus’ smile was easy, but it was difficult to read behind the expression. Was Lola an aimless interest for him or something permanent? His outside relationships tended to start in a rush and end with a crash. As much as Cyrus was pack, I would have a hard time if he ran carelessly into a connection with Lola that couldn’t last.
“It's different than I'm used to, I'll admit,” Cyrus said. “When it comes to her…I prefer to be patient. You don’t need to worry. Lola is pack. I’m not about to jeopardize that.”
It was enough for me, for now. Cyrus was a passionate storm, but I intended to be a powerful foundation for Lola. Whatever came next for her, I wanted to be the one to help her weather the change. I just needed to convince her to give me that role.
“I’ll see you on the way out. Good luck today, call if you need me to strong-arm any cooperation,” I said, pushing off the doorway.
“You’re my last resort. For as long as I’m at the helm here, I hope to stand on my own merit,” Cyrus said.
I nodded and left him to it. We’d already heard the cries of favoritism in Cyrus’ promotion, but I’d given him the position for the same reason I’d wanted him in my pack. He was as personable as he was intensely creative, and his sense of responsibility to his work was deep. He would win over the magazine without another peep from me.
I had a private elevator to my own office and I turned there now, my eyes scanning the hall for any sign of Lola. She wouldn’t be here, her department was two floors down, and I had no reasonable excuse to find myself near there. I mulled over Cyrus’ words all the same. Did Lola need a push? Or just a steady reminder?
She never said you couldn’t still send her presents, a little voice at the back of my head offered. There was a resemblance to Rake in the words.
I pulled out my phone and opened my notes. To my own minor and private embarrassment, I had a list saved of things I thought Lola might like. Rake had learned the lesson for us all not to overwhelm her, but I could get away with something more thoughtful than indulgent for the time being. Something she wouldn’t expect.
Family dinner was subdued. No one seemed to want to bring Lola up, but neither were any of us able to think of another topic of conversation to hold our attention. Wes especially was stone-faced and lost in his own thoughts. He and Lola had clearly stepped forward the night before, their scents blended on one another as I held her before she left. I wondered if he regretted the timing, or that it hadn’t kept her here with us.
“Does anyone want to watch a movie, or are we working tonight?” Caleb asked.
Rake, who had a ‘kicked while down’ expression permanently fastened to his face, murmured an agreement. My heart hurt for us all. We’d made up our minds about Lola weeks ago, and having her separated from us was a palpable tear in our fabric.
“I’ll join you,” I said. Maybe I’d let Rake antagonize me, just to cheer him up.
“Actually, Matt, I’d like to borrow you,” Wes said.
That caught the others' attention, Leo ignoring his still almost full plate of food, sitting forward and catching Wes’ eye. “Is it Indy? Do you have new information?”
“A bit,” Wes said, and then stopped there to the group’s frustration.
“Wes, this isn’t a private job, this is family,” Rake said. “Can’t you give us anything else?”
Wes’ jaw ground as he thought, scanning over each of us. “I…I told you I forwarded any unknown contacts from Lola’s phone to a line I can watch. Indy’s been persistent up until Lola lost her phone. But he sent something today that makes me think he’s caught on to the fact that there’s…well, me, basically. That we dug out his private videos and scratched them all. I like that he’s sweating, and I want to push harder.”
“What about that means you need Matt specifically?” Leo asked.
Wes was quiet again before he settled on, “Budget.”
Leo frowned, and Caleb shook his head. “Whatever it is, the family accounts are yours to do what you can.”
I met Wes’ eyes and saw the urging. ‘Budget’ wasn’t really covering whatever Wes wanted to discuss, and I nodded my head.
“We’ll go over it,” I said. But Caleb was right too. Whatever Wes needed to do, or wanted to do, I was on board—regardless of cost or anything else. Lola deserved to feel safe with or without our protection.
Dinner ended with further quiet, and Leo watched Wes and I with a fair amount of curious suspicion, but when the plates were cleared and put into the dishwasher, he and the others moved into the living room.
“Your office?” I asked Wes, both of us holding generous glasses of scotch in our hands.
He nodded, and the heaviness of his expression left dread pooling in my stomach, sitting thickly on top of dinner. Was Lola in more danger? Surely Wes wouldn’t leave her staying with her friend if s
he was.
“You know money isn’t an issue,” I said as we entered his office.
Wes shut the door behind me, and my eyebrows raised. He really didn’t want the others involved?
“It’s not about how much, although that’s plenty. It’s what it’s for,” Wes said, moving to his desk chair.
I grabbed the spare and slid to join him. He was bent over his desk, his hand covering his jaw, eyes scanning the blank screen of his computer.
“Indy knows about the pack,” Wes said.
I controlled my growl and nodded. “We knew that would come up at some point.”
Wes nodded. “He's upping his threats, and if I had to guess, he probably knows they aren’t going directly to her. It’s shifted to less about the two of them and more about her and us.”
“So we’re targets now too. And the police—”
“I finally got someone on Lola’s case who I can communicate with directly, but at the end of the day, they’re about five pieces of information behind us, and I…” Wes’ head turned to me. “Fuck, Matt, if Indy gets arrested now, his sentence could get pretty weak. He wasn’t caught with the others, and there’s no statement saying he was there, so with a decent lawyer he’d get off the trafficking charge.”
“And all we have are threats,” I mused, the weight Wes had been carrying now lying heavy over my own shoulders.
“He doesn’t give a shit about the restraining order requests,” Wes said. “He’s completely feral. If I had to guess, he knows taking on the Howlers right now would be his own head.”
“Lola looks like easier prey.”
“And I’m sure he doesn’t think we’re as much of a threat,” Wes said, shrugging. “He thinks he’s hot shit, and I bet we look like a prissy pack of Uptowners.”
I growled. I’d be happy to show the fucker exactly what a real alpha could do to him. “And the money?”
Wes’ lips pressed flat, and his head shook, some internal debate waged in his head.
“Just tell me. We’ll go from there,” I pushed.
“One of the guys has a…contact of a contact. A rumor, basically. Someone we could hire,” Wes said, turning to face me, eyes holding mine and waiting for it to sink in. “To deal with Indy privately, outside of legal routes.”
My eyebrows rose as it hit me. “You want to hire a hitman?”
“A hitwoman, actually,” Wes said, all the strain now loose and vanished from his face, the weight of the secret off his hands.
I gaped at him, but in my head the idea stirred. Everything Indy had put Lola through, had left her with to carry—that alone made me want to strangle him. And now the fact that he was chasing her again, snapping his teeth just to feel the thrill of being her predator? Would it really be so terrible if he was wiped from the earth?
“You’re worried about it coming back on us,” I said.
“There are definitely ways we can turn that money around and around and around and hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in case things go sideways, but…there’s no guarantees.”
This is why he didn’t want to share it with the pack. The less they knew about this decision, the better for them. It occurred to me then that I certainly didn’t care if Indy was killed on Lola’s behalf. I’d happily do it myself. Wes would too, I was sure. But we probably couldn’t get away with murder. A professional, however…
“Merde, are we really thinking about hiring an assassin?” I asked.
“No, those are for major cultural or social figures,” Wes rattled off, and then cleared his throat.
“Please tell me that’s not in your search history.”
“Nah, I took it old school and checked the dictionary.” Wes cracked a faint grin at me, and I huffed and shook my head, rubbing my hands over my face. “Look, I know the risks. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come to you. I just…”
“I want him dead,” I rasped, lowering my hands and looking at Wes. He nodded, and we both reached for our drinks, taking deep gulps and wincing as it ran like fire down our throats.
“I don’t have to—”
“Do it,” I said, holding Wes’ gaze. “I want this situation with Indy ended. For Lola and the others. Ourselves. Reach out…however it’s done.”
Wes sighed and sank back into his chair. “I was both hoping and afraid you’d say that. I’ll take care of it.”
Sixteen
Lola
“Another milkshake, hun?” The cotton candy haired waitress—actually named Candy as far as I could tell—leaned against the large round diner booth Baby and I were sitting in with a couple of the other pack girls—Tiny and Juliet.
“I’m completely stuffed,” I said, shaking my head.
“Can I have like, haaaalf of one?” Baby said, wincing. My eyes widened and Tiny caught my look, her lips twitching and her own eyes rolling.
She leaned over to whisper in my ear, “You think omega appetites are insane in general, or does Baby just eat like an alpha?”
Juliet, on Tiny’s other side, chimed in. “It’s all the sex. She burns calories like a racehorse.”
“I can fucking hear you,” Baby called to us, pointing with a fry that was nearly dripping in cheese. “And you’re not wrong,” Baby added primly.
I laughed with the others, still marveling at the way Baby got along with the betas. And it wasn’t just her. The girls I’d met all had bonding marks from their own alphas, but the pack as a whole treated each of the betas as if they were queens of the pack, equal to their omega.
“You know Chef’ll make you any size you want,” Candy said. “And if he doesn’t, I’m kinda in the mood for a treat myself.”
I sighed and slouched in the booth seat, tempted to undo the buttons on the waistband of the jeans I’d changed into to give my overfull stomach a break. “I’m gonna leave here like twenty pounds heavier if I keep eating like this. I know there are healthy options on this menu, but damn are the bad ones more tempting.”
Tiny snorted and shook her head. “Sounds like the way I talk about men.”
I laughed and shook my head. I was cured of that craving at least. In fact, I was really missing my good men. There’d been a little communication back and forth between us today, but for the most part, it was clear they were trying to give me space. And I was trying really hard to make use of it, and not just give in to the urge to grab my bag and head back to the pack.
My phone chimed at the same moment that the back door to the diner banged open and two of Baby’s alphas—Tornado and Books—came jogging in, shirtless and dewy with sweat.
“Five,” Tiny whispered.
“Four,” Juliet echoed.
Baby dropped the fry she’d been about to take a bite out of, her eyes snagging on her alphas’ backs as they stood at the counter and spoke to Chef.
“Three,” Tiny breathed, as Tornado glanced over at us, his lips twitching as he caught Baby’s stare.
“Two,” Juliet said. Books turned and leaned back against the counter, grinning at Baby as her perfume turned thick and cloying.
“One?” I murmured.
“I’ll be right back,” Baby mumbled, sliding out of the booth and then taking off at a run through the diner tables. She launched herself at the redhead, springing on and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Without missing a beat, Tornado fitted himself to Baby’s back, and the three moved away from the counter, heading for the back door.
“She will absolutely not be right back,” Tiny said, sitting up on the booth seat and dragging Baby’s cheese fries to her lap.
“Mhm, and I would not recommend using the back hall anytime soon,” Juliet said with a nod.
I laughed and finally looked down at my phone. It was a notification from my music streaming app. The Playlist ‘For Lolotte’ has just been shared with you by user Segal76.
I swiped immediately, my throat squeezing. Matthieu had made me a playlist? That was so… My heart thumped in my chest. It was more than sweet and better than spoiling me with frenc
h fries. This was dumb, how could I miss him this badly? It’d been less than forty-eight hours…although maybe it was closer to a few days since I’d really been present in my own head with him.
“Aw, your face. Did they text you?” Juliet asked.
I shook my head, scanning the list of songs. Most of them I didn’t know, or they looked familiar but not ones I’d listened to much. I wanted to dig my ear pods out and listen to them all immediately while wallowing on the stiff pull out couch I’d tossed and turned on the night before. Turns out when you get used to the hella luxurious beds of millionaires, it’s kind of hard to go back to roughing it with the rest of the world.
“Matthieu made me a playlist,” I said, showing them.
“Ohmigod, that’s fucking ultimate romance angst right there, I can’t even,” Tiny moaned, her hand over her heart. “I’m gonna give Brody so much shit until he makes me a playlist, and then it’s gonna be like, country songs and rap, not cool new wave and indie love songs.”
“Matthieu,” Juliet said, giggling at the airy ending pronunciation of his name. “That’s hot. Come on, we like to take our plates to the kitchen so the others don’t have to worry about them. Then we’ll go find Emmy. She’s got the best speakers to play music on. And see if Green has anything he needs us to sample.”
Tiny laughed at the suggestion.
It’d been over a year since I’d been high, and I was pretty nervous when we first stepped into the back office of the Howler’s dispensary. But Green was quiet and steady, and he offered me the CBD heavy strains to test, less likely to make me feel anxious or unsteady. And then when he heard we were going to Emmy’s to listen to the romantic playlist Matthieu had arranged for me, he’d decided to join us. The girls didn’t even look surprised.
