The Loneliest Alpha (The MacKellen Alphas)

by T. A. Grey

  She’d stolen the choice out of his hands and it should have been his choice. He’d wanted to show her on his time, not hers. It was his ugly face after all.

  He continued past his room that she slept in and left for the construction site. Only after he’d lost himself in the smell of cedar, fresh poured concrete mixed with the crisp mountain air, did the tight muscles in his shoulders begin to relax.

  That didn’t keep his mind from working overtime though. Even while keeping his hands busy, his thoughts kept running back to her.

  It was too soon. He hadn’t planned on her seeing his face yet. According to their deal, she still had several weeks left here. How the hell was he supposed to woo her now? The secret was out of the bag. He’d have to run with it.

  Maybe he should let her go already. Never, came the quick, primal response.

  Even if he was pissed at her, he knew he didn’t want her to leave. He liked her…really liked her. He’d known it before he talked to her. It was like something had just clicked when he saw her and after talking to her it only cemented his decision. Something gentle but moving had shifted inside him. It made him feel worthy and whole.

  Then he saw her quiet strength, heard about her hard work and creativity. And now he’d learned so much more, whether he liked it all or not. Like her damned tenacious curiosity, her terrible singing voice, her incredible gift for creating the hottest lingerie he’d ever seen in his life, amazing cooking abilities, and her kindness.

  A truck rumbled up the path dislodging him from his thoughts. Alex parked, hopping out of the old beat-up pickup.

  Gavin nodded to him. “You’re here early.”

  Alex grinned, a sly smirk like he had a secret he was happy to keep. “Just one of those days. Feelin’ good, you know?”

  Gavin grunted.

  Alex lit up a cigarette, laughing. “You look like shit if I say so myself. What’s up?”

  Another grunt. He didn’t want to talk about it. At least, that’s what he told himself. What came out of his mouth was a different thing.

  “She saw it.” My face.

  Dark eyebrows rose. “Really?”

  He nodded and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Yeah, last night after the accident.”

  Alex grew still. “What accident?”

  “You haven’t heard? It was bad. Someone tried to kill Jo and Alicia. They rammed into them in an SUV, even managed to get out of the pack before anyone could stop them.”

  “This doesn’t look good at all. Two dead kids, now this. It all relates.”

  “Yeah, but how?”

  “Someone wants your woman dead.”

  The very same thought had crossed Gavin’s mind. “What makes you think they weren’t after Jo?”

  Alex shrugged. “Hey, Jo’s been livin’ here for years doing the same ole’ shit and nothin’ like this has ever happened before. Then, suddenly you got that woman here and you got two kids dead and an attempt on her life.”

  Gavin tensed. “She can’t have anything to do with Emma and Anthony’s death.”

  “Nah, I didn’t mean like that. That’s a mere coincidence that she got here right when that happened. What isn’t a coincidence is that whoever was in that SUV was trying to kill Alicia, not Jo.”

  “But why? She’s innocent. Hell, she hadn’t even left the house until last night for the first time. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  Alex took a long pull on his cigarette, his narrowed eyes hard and honest. “Listen here, ’cause this isn’t gonna be easy to hear but it’s the truth. If situations were reversed and I was the one drivin’ that SUV, the only reason why I’d be doin’ it is to take out your woman to make you hurt.”

  Gavin felt like he’d taken a physical blow to the chest. “How would anyone know that would make me hurt like that?”

  Alex gave him a look that said for real, bro? “Anyone who’s heard you speak about her, seen how you act around her all hidin’ your face and shit. We all know it’s because you care about her. If you didn’t, everything would be normal ’round here. Except, once she got here, shit’s been anything but normal with you. We can all see that. Even some who might want to replace you as alpha.”

  “Marcus.”

  Alex shrugged. “He’s a bad seed, got too much anger in him and no place for it go but at you. You need to deal with him. We all know he’s the one who did that to ya.” He pointed at Gavin’s face with his cigarette hand.

  Gavin stilled. “Everyone knows? How?”

  “We ain’t stupid, man. The only one who hates you enough to fuck you up like that is Marcus Graham or one of his stupid brothers. I’d bet my life on it. We may not have any proof, but the proof’s in our guts, in our instincts, man. Marcus Graham’s bad news, has been for a long time.”

  “I can’t condemn a man without any evidence.” Gavin was still reeling. They all knew. He’d kept what had happened that night, that following morning, a secret all this time. He’d never had any proof that it was Marcus who’d done it, but hell, everyone suspected the same as he did.

  He started laughing. He couldn’t it help it, it just came out of him. Alex gave him a strange look and smiled while still clasping that cigarette between his lips.

  “This whole time, I thought no one knew. I’m the alpha now and I didn’t want to burden others with my shit.” He shook his head. “I’m an idiot.”

  Alex grinned. “Live and learn, man.”

  Gavin’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He excused himself and answered. “Yeah?”

  “We need to talk.” It was Hart. When Hart said ‘we need to talk’ the news was never good.

  “I’m over at the construction site.”

  “Fine, I’ll be there in ten.”

  Gavin hung up and Alex must have seen the tight look on his face because he asked, “What’s up?”

  “Hart’s on in his way over with some news.”

  Shaking his head, Alex nodded at the half-built house. “The rest of the crew will be pouring in soon. Let me know if you need anything.”

  Gavin nodded, but his thoughts were already turning sour. By time Hart arrived, Gavin had deduced the worst. Another dead body, no leads on the case, there was a damn killer in his pack and there wasn’t shit he could do about it. Not good. Not good at all.

  The muscles along his spine stiffened as Gavin spotted Hart’s human partner, Elizabeth Peterson. Pack matters were just that, matters to be concluded by pack members. Elizabeth was human but Hart said he trusted her.

  She strode forward, her orange-red hair pulled back into a fuzzy ponytail and a tight, professional smile on her face. She shook his hand. “Gavin, I won’t ask how you’re doing as I can see the answer. Hart and I have some news for you.”

  Never good words to hear. “What is it?”

  Hart opened a folder and handed it to him. It was a picture of an SUV with a seriously busted front-end. His skin prickled. This was the car that had hit Jo and Alicia. It took effort not to crush the thick stack of papers in his fist.

  “We found the vehicle,” Hart said. “It was rented from a rental car dealer by one Michael Givens a human who lives on the other side of the city.”

  “He’s the one who did this?”

  Hart shook his head. “Stopped by his place to interview him this morning. He, the wife, and the kids were upset at my news that someone using his name had purchased a rental the night before. After doing some searching around, it turns out his wallet’s missing. His credit card and ID were in it. Someone could have taken it and purchased the rental.”

  “How did they get his wallet?”

  “He’s a lawyer and had to meet a client yesterday at the court house just twenty minutes from here. He also stopped and ate at one of the local restaurants. My guess is he got pick-pocketed there and didn’t even realize it.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Whoever took the wallet probably had similar features, or enough so to pass as Michael Givens, but that could be false. Most businesses don’t study ID pictures
that well especially since people dye their hair, wear colored eye contacts and everything when they check an ID. According to the rental company, the rental was purchased a little after seven that night.”

  “Kind of late to be getting a rental,” Gavin said.

  Hart nodded. “My guess is the person who did this saw Alicia leave the house, then planned this out. They already had the wallet from earlier that day. Michael said he ate lunch around 1:30. This looks pre-meditated. They grabbed the wallet, rented the car using Michael Givens’ ID and credit card later that evening. But judging by the fact they seemed to hurry out and buy the rental late at night seems like they were targeting Alicia. Could be because it was the first time she left the house,” Hart said.

  “A patrolman found the rental abandoned at a gas station parking lot about fifteen minutes outside of the pack, headed south. It looks like a random drop off. Whoever did this was not Michael Givens,” Elizabeth said.

  Gavin found his gaze sorting through the pictures they had of the car. It was amazing the vehicle had been able to run after sustaining that much damage. No surprise it made it fifteen minutes out of the pack before the driver ditched it.

  “Did the rental place have a security camera?”

  Hart nodded. “They do and I’m currently waiting on a search warrant before I can check that the film out.” He clasped Gavin’s shoulder. “We’re close, brother. It won’t be long now. Whoever did this didn’t plan this out well, they fucked up. There were cameras and we still have others to interview—the gas station attendants, the waitresses at the restaurant where Michael was at—whoever stole his wallet will be found. It’s only a matter of time now.”

  Elizabeth’s phone rang and she answered it, turning away for a minute.

  “We’re close, Gavin. I can feel it. Whoever did this to Alicia and Jo most likely killed those kids.”

  “No progress on that?” Gavin asked.

  Hart shook his head. “No murder weapons found, no one’s seen anything. So far all we have is Marcus Graham finding Emma’s body.”

  “He had something to do with this,” Gavin said.

  “Have any proof of that?”

  “No, but I can feel it in my gut.”

  “We need evidence and I’m finding it. This accident was a big break for us, Gavin.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it. My woman’s at home with bruises and a cut up face.”

  “If Marcus had anything to do with this, I’ll nail his ass. You can bet your money on that.”

  Elizabeth came back, closing her phone. “Just got a call. One of the waitresses working yesterday thinks she saw a man nab a wallet from someone matching Michael Givens’ description.”

  Hart smiled, the smile of a man on the hunt—a predator’s smile. They took off with a hurried wave.

  It wasn’t easy making himself get some work done, but he had to do something. He couldn’t just go back home. Alicia would be there and he wasn’t ready yet for that. And he couldn’t go pay Marcus a visit like he wanted to. If he did, he might end up committing murder. Hart was right, they had to do this the right way. And that way was with absolute proof.

  They were going to get the bastards who did this one way or another. And then it would be pack justice for little Emma and Anthony and for Alicia and Jo.

  Gavin lost himself in work, in the jokes his crew launched at him as they all arrived. They knew he was tense and their smiles helped him to relax. The buzz of the saw and punching power of the nail gun all soothed him like a mother’s sweet song.

  That was until later that evening when he sat in front of his house with sweat drying on his clothes, his hands covered in grime. Through the living room curtains he watched her shadow move around hurriedly in the kitchen and wondered what she was doing. Cooking something else that’d taste good, maybe. His stomach gave a deep rumble and he grimaced.

  He felt torn between wanting to stride in there for the first time with his face open to her…and going straight upstairs to shower then crash in bed with his door locked. In his bed that didn’t smell like soft flowery woman. Hell, she slept in it last night so tonight’s sleep would probably be ruined as well.

  He bit his fingertip, lost in morose thoughts, staring at his house like a damn stalker.

  Well, he decided, getting out of the truck, time to figure it out.

  Stepping inside the front door, the smell of meat, potatoes, and something sweet hit him like a punch to the empty stomach.

  He could still see her shadow moving around in the kitchen. She was talking under her breath and chuffing.

  The decision had been made the moment he smelled food.

  Before he knew it, he stood in the kitchen doorway. The sight that greeted him felt familiar yet odd at the same time. Alicia was setting the kitchen table for two. Her eyes were excited, lips muttering as she made notes that she had everything done. She still hadn’t noticed him.

  The scene was familiar because he’d done this before with his previous… He paused, not even sure what to call his exes. His girlfriends, his partners, his lovers? They were all of that but Alicia wasn’t any of those things.

  That raised the question, just what was she?

  She turned then and spotted him.

  Dammit all, but what was his first reaction? Tensing. His face was right there with the bright overhead lights exposing every ugly flaw. His jaw twitched and he found himself swallowing over a nervous lump in his throat.

  Her eyes flitted over his face a moment before she clapped her hands. “Dinner is almost ready. Go wash up. You can shower too but I’ll need you back down here in twenty.”

  He stood there for a minute, like a baffled deer caught in someone’s headlights. “What?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Dinner. Here. You and me, steaks. Go clean up.”

  Then she turned her back on him and proceeded to toss a salad in a big green bowl he didn’t remember owning.

  Feeling oddly out of place in his own home, Gavin headed upstairs and showered just like she’d told him to.

  All the while, his mind worked to figure out just what he was supposed to say to her when he went down for dinner.

  I’m sorry for being a dick?

  I’m not sorry because what you did was wrong.

  Just let me kiss you one more time.

  Stay here with me.

  I care too much to let you go.

  * * * * *

  The shower kicked on upstairs.

  Alicia bit down on her fingernail, gnawing it. What am I supposed to do now?

  “Not freaking out would be a good start.”

  Okay, she thought, letting out a shuddering breath. That hadn’t gone so bad. It could have been far worse. He could have gone straight upstairs without stopping here or told her to fuck off or any number of things after what she did last night. But he hadn’t done any of those things which gave her hope.

  So she finished cutting wedges of tomato for the salad, checked the potatoes, and started the whipped cream for the strawberry shortcake—only to come up short.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She blinked at his empty pantry. “He doesn’t own a hand mixer.”

  Oh lordy, this man needed a woman in his life.

  Alicia came up short at the wayward thought. What the hell did that even mean, she thought in a panic. That she should be that woman or that he just needed one?

  The shower shut off upstairs. She checked the time; he was done in less than six minutes.

  “Shoot!”

  She started rushing around the kitchen, turning the broiler off on the oven and removing the steaks so they wouldn’t overcook. She poured two glasses of ice tea then stared at his place setting, biting her lip. What if he didn’t drink tea? What if he did?

  She poured a glass of water too and put that at his plate.

  Dang, but she was already mucking this apology thing up before it even started. In her defense, she wasn’t used to this whole apology thing. She didn’t live with another
person and she hadn’t dated anyone since Robert.

  She went back over her mental list for dinner tonight. The salad was done. He didn’t have any salad dressings—really who did that?—so she’d made a simple one her mom used to make, a light, creamy dressing that tasted good with any kind of salad.

  The mashed potatoes were hot and ready to go, the steak was cooked, and the strawberries were marinating in sugar and the biscuits for dessert were cooling. All she had to do was beat the whipped cream.

  She got to work on it, whipping the mixture like her life depended on it. When one arm started to burn she switched arms. After her biceps felt like how Arnold Schwarzenegger’s looked, the mixture formed foamy peaks. Perfect!

  Now, the wait.

  What did she do now? Everything was ready to be served. Was he coming down or not? Normally she would have been tempted to head up there and find out for herself but she still teetered in dangerous territory because she’d messed up.

  He was right, no doubt about that. And after she’d cried a bit last night and her mind cleared she knew he was really right. He’d obviously moved the box after she’d noticed it the first time and she’d stolen his secret from him that he’d wanted to give to her. It wasn’t fair and he had every right to be angry. She just hoped this might cool some of that anger. And make him realize that while she’d been startled at his face, it didn’t matter to her.

  That’s when she heard it. His bedroom door opening and his heavy steps coming down the stairs. She started to sit down then cursed herself and stood by the oven waiting—and probably looking like an idiot as she tried to appear nonchalant and confident.

  He came in smelling fresh and looking haggard. Of course, that could be how he always looked. She didn’t have a clue because she’d never spent any time looking at his face before.

  His gaze didn’t meet hers, but stared at the kitchen table.

  She took that moment to look at him in the light without the weight of anger that had been riding him last night, and made a decision. It didn’t take long.

  So she let him know.

  “I like you just fine.”