Page 5
Story: Knot Playing Fair 2
Mia nodded reluctantly. An instant later, her expression crumpled.
“Why does everything have to be so screwed up all the damned time?” she asked plaintively. “Why can’t life just besimple?”
Luca reached a hand toward her, the movement tentative, and Mia let him draw her into an embrace. I had nothing to sayin response, because I had absolutely no good answer to that tearful, despairing question.
Byron growled like an irritated grizzly bear roused prematurely from hibernation when I woke him with a loud knock on his bedroom door. The door whipped open a few moments later, revealing a bare chest, bloodshot eyes, and blond hair sticking up in every direction.
Byron scowled at my sudden appearance in his doorway, his gaze raking me up and down. “Goddamn it, Zalen. Why the fuck aren’t you sleeping right now?”
The urge to bark at him stirred in my chest, despite how unhelpful that would be. I couldn’t help an answering growl, though—and I saw a hint of surprise flicker behind Byron’s expression.
“Because Emiel ran off to the cage fights four days ago, and there’s been no sign of him since. You and I need to track him down so we can drag him back here,” I said.
“What?” Byron asked, giving his head a small shake as though he was trying to clear it. “How the fuck can youpossiblyknow that?”
“Because I knowhim,” I shot back, aware that it was a blatant lie. “He’s not answering calls or texts, and he hasn’t checked in at the Hope Project. Where else would he be when he’s trying to punish himself?”
Byron’s scowl deepened. “I don’t know, Z. A bar? A brothel? Any of the other thousands of places someone can go when they don’t want to be found? JesusChrist. He’s a grown-ass man. If he wants to fuck off somewhere and sulk for four days, then let him.”
I pinned his gray gaze with mine, putting every bit of alpha power that I possessed behind it. “No,” I said simply. “We don’t abandon pack when they’re struggling, Byron.”
The other alpha blinked and flinched back a hairsbreadth.
“He won’t thank you for it,” Byron said mulishly. “You can’t save everyone, Zalen. Thought you of all people would’ve figured that out by now.”
The echo of a long-ago phone call whispered through my memory, every word burned into my mind like a brand.
Mr. Price? This is Detective Callahan with the NYPD. I regret to inform you that your bondmate and a young beta male identified as her brother have been killed in an apparent drive-by shooting...
My eyes burned as I held Byron’s gaze, unblinking. “I’m not doing it because I want him to thank me. Now put on a goddamned shirt and get moving. You’ll be able to track down the current location where they’re holding the fights a lot faster than I will.”
Byron continued to stare me down for long seconds before he finally glanced away, ceding the unspoken challenge.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Just don’t expect me to throw a butterfly net over the asshole when he tells you to go fuck yourself.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said between gritted teeth, as he turned and disappeared into the darkened recesses of his bedroom.
THREE
Byron
“THOUGHT YOU WAS TOOgood for us now, Goldie. What you even doin’ back here in the ‘hood?”
The guy known less than affectionately as Mouse was still as weaselly and disreputable as he’d been a decade ago. The pool hall that had been his preferred hangout for even longer had gained a few more leaks in the roof and a slightly thicker coating of nicotine-yellow staining on the walls.
“Why does everything have to be so screwed up all the damned time?” she asked plaintively. “Why can’t life just besimple?”
Luca reached a hand toward her, the movement tentative, and Mia let him draw her into an embrace. I had nothing to sayin response, because I had absolutely no good answer to that tearful, despairing question.
Byron growled like an irritated grizzly bear roused prematurely from hibernation when I woke him with a loud knock on his bedroom door. The door whipped open a few moments later, revealing a bare chest, bloodshot eyes, and blond hair sticking up in every direction.
Byron scowled at my sudden appearance in his doorway, his gaze raking me up and down. “Goddamn it, Zalen. Why the fuck aren’t you sleeping right now?”
The urge to bark at him stirred in my chest, despite how unhelpful that would be. I couldn’t help an answering growl, though—and I saw a hint of surprise flicker behind Byron’s expression.
“Because Emiel ran off to the cage fights four days ago, and there’s been no sign of him since. You and I need to track him down so we can drag him back here,” I said.
“What?” Byron asked, giving his head a small shake as though he was trying to clear it. “How the fuck can youpossiblyknow that?”
“Because I knowhim,” I shot back, aware that it was a blatant lie. “He’s not answering calls or texts, and he hasn’t checked in at the Hope Project. Where else would he be when he’s trying to punish himself?”
Byron’s scowl deepened. “I don’t know, Z. A bar? A brothel? Any of the other thousands of places someone can go when they don’t want to be found? JesusChrist. He’s a grown-ass man. If he wants to fuck off somewhere and sulk for four days, then let him.”
I pinned his gray gaze with mine, putting every bit of alpha power that I possessed behind it. “No,” I said simply. “We don’t abandon pack when they’re struggling, Byron.”
The other alpha blinked and flinched back a hairsbreadth.
“He won’t thank you for it,” Byron said mulishly. “You can’t save everyone, Zalen. Thought you of all people would’ve figured that out by now.”
The echo of a long-ago phone call whispered through my memory, every word burned into my mind like a brand.
Mr. Price? This is Detective Callahan with the NYPD. I regret to inform you that your bondmate and a young beta male identified as her brother have been killed in an apparent drive-by shooting...
My eyes burned as I held Byron’s gaze, unblinking. “I’m not doing it because I want him to thank me. Now put on a goddamned shirt and get moving. You’ll be able to track down the current location where they’re holding the fights a lot faster than I will.”
Byron continued to stare me down for long seconds before he finally glanced away, ceding the unspoken challenge.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Just don’t expect me to throw a butterfly net over the asshole when he tells you to go fuck yourself.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I said between gritted teeth, as he turned and disappeared into the darkened recesses of his bedroom.
THREE
Byron
“THOUGHT YOU WAS TOOgood for us now, Goldie. What you even doin’ back here in the ‘hood?”
The guy known less than affectionately as Mouse was still as weaselly and disreputable as he’d been a decade ago. The pool hall that had been his preferred hangout for even longer had gained a few more leaks in the roof and a slightly thicker coating of nicotine-yellow staining on the walls.
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