The Loneliest Alpha (The MacKellen Alphas)

by T. A. Grey

  You’re a filthy bastard, Gavin.

  She was beautiful to look at, but he’d be lying if he said that was all there was. He’d found himself unable to resist asking about her. He wanted to know about her from her own words not those her alpha told him. He wanted to know everything about Alicia Clarkson. Something about her made him curious.

  Shaking his head, he forced himself to walk away.

  Gavin climbed into his truck and roared off down the dirt-strewn path to work. A dusty cloud billowed behind him.

  What was it about her? Couldn’t just be her pretty face or her knockout body. He wasn’t as capricious as that. All anyone had to do was look at his two exes to see the truth in that. The first, Jana, everyone said was too plain, to straight-hipped and skinny, but Gavin had liked her just fine. They’d stayed together for a few years before she tired of him and moved on. As all his exes did.

  His jaw set at the thought. That’s why Alicia Clarkson wouldn’t work. If he couldn’t keep a plain-miss around, how could he keep a masterpiece like Alicia Clarkson happy? He couldn’t and she’d soon be telling him the same story he’d heard over and again. He was too boring, they never went out and did anything, and why didn’t he talk more?

  He’d tried to explain that he couldn’t help how he was and that he didn’t have a whole lot to say. Didn’t mean he didn’t feel like everyone else. But words didn’t really come to him like that. Never did, in fact. Women loved to hear the words though, loved to talk. Alicia Clarkson looked like the friendly type too, could make friends with damn near anyone. That type of woman would befriend the whole pack in under a month. It’d take even less time than it took his exes for her to figure out that he didn’t much care for going to parties and that he didn’t make a great host. Especially not since the incident. People didn’t much like looking at him now.

  Gavin took a turn that’d lead him to the lake. He and his crew were constructing a new house for the Louis family. Theirs was one of the first built in the early 1900s and given the choice to renovate it or start anew, they chose new. They paid a percentage out of pocket that went to Gavin and his crew and supplies. The rest they’d pay out in monthly installments. After the cost of the supplies and salaries was dished out, the rest of that money would go back into the pack’s funds. They needed that fund for emergencies.

  He spotted his crew already starting today’s work on laying foundation. There was no road out here so close to the canyon which made it a bumpy ride. His truck handled it well.

  Even the sight of his crew couldn’t break his thoughts from her though. He had to give all the women a chance. He’d promised Will that much and he owed him so much more. Maybe after he talked some more to the clothing designer he’d realize something about her that wouldn’t suit. Yeah, that’d be good. Then he could send her packing. He didn’t like the idea. Hell, he liked her already. A strong woman not afraid to go after her dream even if it meant making little money for herself. At least she was putting herself out there and living by her own means. Damn, but he respected that. Maybe a bit too much.

  He’d promised Will to give all the girls a chance. Tonight he’d sit with them and talk. Figure out which he could send back. He scrubbed a hand over his haggard face. Little worse in life than a bad day.

  Gavin braked to a stop and looked out at the crisp blue lake glittering beneath the fresh morning light. The hairs stood up at the back of his neck and he rubbed a rough hand across it as he stepped out of his truck.

  “Hey, boss,” one of his team hollered.

  He lifted a hand in a wave.

  Two nagging questions refused to escape him. What if he didn’t want to let Alicia Clarkson go? And how could he possibly show her his face?

  One of his crewman, Alex, strode forward. He had a wrinkled cigarette clamped between his teeth and a hard look in his eyes. Something was up.

  Gavin met him halfway. “What is it?”

  Alex plucked the cigarette from between his lips with two fingers. “Have you seen Hart today?”

  Gavin shook his head.

  “Well, he came around here looking for you real early this morning. Said something bad happened and he needed to talk to you.”

  Gavin peered out at the great expanse of rising mountain behind them. Such a beautiful sight, never ceased to humble him. Until now. Now when he gazed at that glorious piece of earth with grass knee-tall and trees a hundred years old, he only saw in black and gray. The pulse at his forehead pounded.

  “I was at home. He could have stopped by there.” Strange he didn’t.

  “Seeing as he stopped by here, I’d say he thought you were already here. You are late.” Alex paused to suck in a long drag. “How’d last night go?”

  Gavin grunted in answer. Alex nodded as if he understood. No words were necessary.

  “Take over my work for today. I gotta go find Hart.”

  “Will do.”

  Gavin hopped back into his truck, backed out, then drove back into town. His brother was looking for him and it wasn’t to celebrate some good news. This was bad.

  Today was turning out to be one hell of a day.

  Gavin found his brother at the end of one of the patrol fields. Gavin’s timing could have been better. Hart had his no bullshit-taking cop face on and another packmate, Marcus Graham, backed up against the wall to their headquarters.

  “God damn,” Gavin muttered.

  He killed the engine and hopped out of his truck in one motion. He raced to get to them in time. Judging by the raised voices and tense postures things were getting nasty, quick.

  He didn’t make it.

  Hart stepped back with his right foot. Gavin knew what that meant. He was about to throw down.

  Gavin shouted, “Hart!”

  Surprised, Hart looked over at him but damn if Marcus didn’t wind one up and let it fly. He slammed a right hook into Hart’s surprised face. A vein ticked in Gavin’s forehead.

  He locked onto Marcus, strode forward and jabbed him twice, hard, in the mouth. “You hit my brother in front of me, Marcus?” Marcus fell to one knee. Another hard jab and his lip split, blood running down his chin. Marcus smiled up at him with those smart, cold eyes. Gavin hated those eyes.

  Strong arms banded around Gavin’s waist, tore him away. “Let him go, Gavin. Bastard cheap shotted me is all. It’s nothing. Don’t even feel it. We got bigger problems anyway.”

  Gavin breathed hard, had to get it under control. Marcus stood up, that smile still in place. The blood on his lips and chin only made the sight more grisly.

  “I see you still have a strong jab, Gavin.”

  His abs clenched as if preparing for an attack. Ignoring the man, he turned to his brother. “I heard you need me.”

  “You might want to brace yourself for this.”

  He blinked once and his mind raced through the possibilities. Then, it hit him. “Someone’s dead.”

  “Not just dead, murdered. We have a homicide.” Hart looked away and tucked his hands in his coat pockets. Gavin recognized that look. He’d seen it many times before—unease.

  “Who is it? One of ours?”

  Maybe it wasn’t one of his own. Kaity would have heard about it and been in tears at his door this morning instead of pissed off. No, it wasn’t one of his. That didn’t give him much relief.

  “Emma. It was Emma, Gavin.”

  It felt like a cold spear pierced his stomach. It was one of his. “She’s only twelve.” What a stupid thing to say, he knew. Anyone could be murdered regardless of age. Still, she was so young. Had so much going for her even with her shitty parents. With the support of her pack she was making the best of things, had a positive outlook on life. Even when one of the pack had to take her in for a night or two because Joan and Todd couldn’t stop screaming at each other.

  Hart nodded. He understood. He saw all kinds of sickness in his work.

  “What happened to her?”

  Hart looked away, fidgeted with something in his pocket. “
Bludgeoned. The bastard beat her to death, caved her skull in.”

  Gavin’s voice croaked. “Where?”

  Hart pointed out toward the property line on the south side. Gavin followed where Hart pointed. Somewhere out in those woods he and his people walked through every day was a dead twelve-year-old girl who’d had her head bashed in. Blood rushed through his veins in a rapid pulse.

  On his land. Under his protection.

  His gaze flicked to Marcus and pondered for a serious moment drilling him in the face again. Didn’t matter if he did the crime or not, he’d committed other sins. Enough that Gavin wouldn’t despair breaking his nose.

  “Who found her?”

  Hart leveled his gaze on Marcus and lifted his chin in a nod.

  God damn. Marcus found her. Of all the people…

  Gavin kept his jaw still though it yearned to grind. “What time and what were you doing?”

  Marcus ran both hands through his blond hair, curling it back against his skull. “I was on my patrol shift seeing as it’s Sunday. Was walking the southern perimeter when I found her.” He shrugged. “Didn’t touch her.”

  Gavin noticed his brother also watched Marcus closely. Marcus wasn’t exactly known for his winning personality.

  “I’m going to have to bring you in and question you, understand?” Hart said.

  Marcus nodded.

  Gavin took a step forward, his body opening up, craving the fight he knew Marcus would give him. The skinny man smiled at him, that sick cold smile that always made Gavin’s skin crawl as if hundreds of ants were marching up and down his back.

  “Why all the smiles, Marcus? Did you know Emma Linchman? Are you happy she’s dead?”

  “Nah, I didn’t know her. That’s not what has me feeling all warm inside, Gavin.” Marcus’ eyes roamed over Gavin’s face. “I see the scars have made a permanent home on your face. Not bad if I say so myself.”

  Gavin tensed but before he could pound the smile off Marcus’ face, Hart beat him to it. He grabbed Marcus by the collar and slammed three brutal blows into his face. Bone crunched as it broke and a spray of blood gushed from his nose. Marcus dropped to the ground, laughing and looking like a mad man with his watering eyes and broken face. Hart hovered over him like a shaking beast aching to really let loose.

  Gavin tapped him on the shoulder before they had two deaths today.

  “Leave it be, Hart. The man’s a coward.”

  Marcus’ eyes flashed. “I’ve proven myself. I ain’t no coward.”

  Gavin started away with his brother. “You proved you can fight like a coward, Marcus. That’s all you proved and everyone knows it.”

  Gavin and Hart climbed into his truck. The seats sighed as their weight settled in. Marcus stood, his fists clenching then unclenching.

  “A coward wouldn’t have challenged you,” he said. “A coward wouldn’t have done what I did.”

  Gavin grew silent. Hart turned to look at him questioningly but Gavin ignored him. For a moment all he could do was remember. Remember waking up, feeling something wrong, then stumbling into the bathroom and flipping on that light switch. Some days he wished he’d never flipped that switch. But he couldn’t live like that. He had a pack to take care of, responsibilities. He wasn’t going to let people down over something so trivial.

  It took him several hard, deep breaths before he closed the truck door and started the engine.

  He met Marcus’ gaze through the windshield. “No, Marcus, only a coward waits until a man can’t fight back.”

  Rage boiling inside him, he threw the car into drive and tore off. He had to get out of there before he threw himself out of the car and tore Marcus limb from limb.

  After a moment, Hart spoke. “I waited to call the murder in until I talked to you. I’ll have to do that now.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You should let me take care of this instead of bringing in the Justicars. We’ll have some human cops on the property but that might be better than the Justicars.”

  Gavin clenched his teeth. “Yeah, do what you go to do. I’ll get word to the lieutenants to let them in.”

  Gavin pulled to a stop in front of a broken down house that had seen better years. Yellow paint had once coated the walls but long ago chipped and faded into something ugly. A busted porch swing hung from the front porch and Gavin knew the wood railing leading up to the door was broken. He’d offered to fix it but Todd wouldn’t have it. Didn’t like no one interfering with his business. What a fool.

  They exited the truck and headed up to the house together.

  “Knew this was gonna be a bad day,” Gavin was saying to himself. “Just didn’t know it’d be this bad.”

  Hart didn’t say anything, only knocked on the door. It rattled in the frame and Hart shook his head in disgust, muttered something beneath his breath. Movement came from inside, footsteps and cursing.

  “God dammit just get the fucking door, Joan!”

  “You never get the fucking door, you lazy son of a bitch. Why do I always have to do it?”

  The door opened on the end of her question.

  Joan Linchman was a dour woman. Gavin’d lived in the same pack with her all his life and he couldn’t remember seeing her smile before. She wore a dirty muumuu that fell to her pale, knobby knees and her ratty hair stuck out at unevenly like she’d spilled something then slept in it. It wasn’t a good look for her. Made her face look too old, made the wrinkles in her forehead and around her eyes stand out in ways they shouldn’t. Hell, she was younger than he was yet managed to look older than him by at least ten years.

  She peered at them, squinting against the sunlight blazing behind them. “Todd it’s the alpha,” she called back. She nodded to Gavin. “What you want?”

  When she spoke he caught a whiff of stale cigarette smoke and liquor, probably from the night before. His stomach heaved.

  “We got a problem, Joan. Me and Hart are gonna have to come in and talk to you and Todd now.”

  Todd cursed from inside. “Fuckin’ hell. It’s barely seven in the morning. What’s the meaning of all this?” Todd ambled his pot-bellied form off the couch and lumbered over, hovering behind his skinny wife.

  Gavin had to look away for a moment to take a deep breath. The rancid odors of foul body odor, beer, and cigarettes clung to him like a cloud. Gavin sucked in a deep breath then braced himself.

  “It’s about Emma. Do you mind if we come inside?” he asked.

  Joan realized it first. A trace of fear flickered in her eyes. Her mind was already running with ideas as to why the alpha and his detective brother was at her doorstep at seven in the morning on a Sunday. She surely already knew Emma wasn’t home last night since it’d been a Saturday and the Linchman’s had no curfew for the girl.

  Todd was slower. Grumbling, he moved aside and allowed them into the house. Again, Gavin was assaulted by smells, though none of them were as bad as Todd. The house smelled of mold, rotted wood, and dust that had collected in crevices and on broken shelves that never got cleaned.

  Todd and Joan sat but Gavin and Hart didn’t bother. They only had one sofa and it sat low to the ground and was covered in stains and god knows what else. So they stood and delivered the news.

  Hart told them what happened. He kept his voice calm and professional, but with an edge of kindness. The sound wasn’t how Hart normally spoke, Gavin could tell this was practiced. He carefully chose his words as he told this family their daughter had been bludgeoned to death inside their own pack.

  Gavin had to admit, he was surprised by their reactions. Joan broke down first in loud, anguished cries that squeezed his chest until it hurt to breath. Her wails soon were followed by Todd’s. The man’s red-rimmed eyes watered and fat drops fell down his splotched cheeks.

  Gavin’s instincts drove him and he pulled Joan into a tight embrace, rubbed her back as she sobbed against him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hart clap Todd on the back as the man sagged forward in grief.

&nbs
p; They might not have been the best of parents, but they loved their daughter. Everyone loved Emma. There was so much about her to love.

  Over Joan’s bony shoulder, Gavin met Hart’s hard eyes. Without words they exchanged a thought. They would find who did this, and he would pay on lykaen terms—by death.

  CHAPTER 3

  They’d shut Alicia in what looked like a spare bedroom. It had hardwood floors, with some of the boards bowed from age. The paint on the walls had to be at least sixty years old; it had long faded and begun to chip. A small twin bed was pushed against the corner, a worn dresser stood on the opposite wall, and a small bathroom was connected. The house was so quiet she thought she might be going mad.

  They gave her a room with a window but they dashed any chance at escape. Heavy metal bars covered the window. She’d opened the window up and pushed and pulled on the rungs until sweat dripped down her temples, but nothing gave. Had these bars always been here or did they install them just to make sure she didn’t escape?

  Aside from that, all she had was a small window. She’d been standing at it a long time, gazing out watching the morning come. The soft purr of a car arrived and a truck left. She caught voices or what she thought were voices.

  Light footsteps, either that of a child or a woman came toward her door. She froze in the middle of the room with a nail file she’d found in the bathroom slipped up her sleeve. It was one of those metal ones with a point. It wasn’t a knife but she could jab a man’s eye out with it.

  Metal slid against metal as someone unlocked the door. The rickety metal doorknob turned and opened. Alicia froze, her weapon hidden well in her sleeve. Today she’d plan her escape. She couldn’t return to her pack if she managed to escape, but she could find a new one. Maybe even a better one. One where the alpha didn’t simply turn over single women to some mysterious alpha.

  A woman opened the door, stepped inside then shut it behind her. She had blonde hair cut around her neck in a bob so the ends flipped out. It made her look pixielike and cute. Her eyes were a vibrant dark blue.