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“I sent them off with a flea in their ear, and the threat of arrest if they trespass in my restaurant again.” Her brows knit as she gave me a thorough onceover.
“They don’t know where I live now,” I ground out. “Guess this was the only place they could think to look for me.”
“Well, they still don’t know,” she said. “Although they sure did ask, as though they had the right to know. Give it ten minutes and go home to your pack, Nat. I’ll have Maleeka and Ayden walk you to your car, just to be safe.”
I wanted to protest. Part of me did, at least. But that part was a tiny speck compared to the part of me that just wanted to get home and lock the door against the world.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Don’t give it another thought,” Shani said. “Call or email when the heat’s finished and you’re available to come back to work. And congratulations in advance on your upcoming mating. It’s a hell of a good one, so enjoy it.”
Shani and I didn’t have a hugging kind of relationship... except now, apparently, wedid. I let her wrap her arms around me and squeezed back with a careful grip. Then I let Maleeka and Ayden walk me to the Jeep, even though it took them away from their duties in the kitchen and dining room.
I drove back to the house, checking behind me obsessively for a minivan on my tail. Of course, there wasn’t one.
Mia was the only one home; deep in preparations for one of the increasingly intricate meals she’d been preparing out of boredom, while the cat supervised from one end of the countertop. One look at me, and she turned off the burner she’d been babysitting.
“Nat?” she asked.
I dropped my work bag by the breakfast bar.
“I’m cutting off my parents,” I said without preamble.
She wiped her hands on a towel and gave me her full attention.
“Good,” she said. “What brought this on, exactly?”
I swallowed hard. “They came to the restaurant today, looking for me and causing a scene. Shani tossed them out. I’ve... been ignoring their calls and emails for more than a week now. They’ve been to the Jennings house five times.”
Her expression fell. “Oh, my god. You should have said something.”
I shrugged a shoulder listlessly. “My problem, not anyone else’s.”
She sighed. “Sounds like we need to have another chat about whatpackmeans. You need to get a restraining order against those two maniacs.”
“Maybe,” I said.
“Right.” Her tone was no-nonsense. “We’re telling the others about this. Then we can brainstorm our response. Now, get over here and chop these mushrooms for me. I need to make duxelles for this recipe.”
As much as I hated it, I passed on what had happened to the others over dinner.
“What are their names?” Byron asked.
“Thomas and Martha Bell,” Mia said.
“Hmm,” was all Byron replied.
Later that evening, when I crept into Byron’s room with my tail between my legs, in hopes of a quick fuck to take my mind off things, it was to find three other people already in the room.
Mia, Luca, and to my surprise, Emiel, were all crowded around Byron’s huge mahogany desk.
Mia looked up. “Holy crap, Nat—come here. You havegotto see this!”
“What?” I asked, crossing to join them.
She pointed to Byron’s laptop screen with an expression of unholy glee. “Seriously, you’re not going to believe this.Your dad has a profile on Grindr!”
I frowned. “Uh... what’s grinder, exactly?”