Page 9 of Breaking the Alpha (Serpent’s Tongue Ink #2)

T here she was, the woman whose voice was constantly whispering in his mind night and day.

The woman who had him daydreaming about her wild hair and auburn eyes when he was supposed to be wallowing in self-pity.

His pretty little hippie who was now giving him a saucy scrunching of her nose while her filmy pink skirt provided a tantalizing view of her legs.

Legs he’d had wrapped around his hips a mere week ago.

Angelina from Wisconsin.

Angelina, who was definitely not in Wisconsin.

Angelina, who’d left him with a fake phone number he’d deleted the moment he heard the hotel elevator door close because every true blooded Epsonite knew the commercial jingle of the worst—yet somehow long-lasting—pizzeria in the damn state.

The urge to tear after her and demand her real number had risen and died fast inside him.

And it was better that way, because if he had her number, the temptation to call her would be too much for him.

The thought of dragging her into the shitstorm of his life, even from a distance, churned his stomach.

It was easier to remember those few hours he’d spent with her as a moment of untarnished respite, something he could escape to in his mind when he needed a reminder that not everything—or everyone—sucked.

Knowing she lived a few thousand miles away from LA and two states away from Epson kept her in that unreachable zone where he needed her to be.

Except four stores down from Serpent’s Tongue Ink was not thousands of miles away. It wasn’t two states away. Hell, it wasn’t even a block away. Angelina from Wisconsin was standing behind the till of the shop where his brother was now sourcing all his piercing jewelry.

The gods were either smiling down at him or playing games.

“I, um—” She looked away from him, busying herself with something in a display case behind her. “Here. Birch and I were talking this morning and I think this is everything he wanted.”

Birch.

His brother’s name so casually stated, like she knew him.

Which she did, but still.

He’d spent seven sleepless nights tossing and turning while her voice caressed his thoughts for hours in the quiet of night, and his brother was just out here talking to her like it was nothing.

And Birch didn’t even have the decency to give him a heads-up about the new shop owner.

A simple the woman who runs the hippie store up the way is smoking hot, sexy as fuck, and has a voice made for foreplay would’ve sufficed.

Though he supposed that if his brother had given him that description, he would’ve wanted to knock said brother’s teeth out.

“River?” The tilt of her head and the slight pursing of her lips as she looked at him made him feel more exposed than any photo shoot he’d ever done. Then she sighed and set the box of jewelry down. “I’m sorry.”

Cocking a brow in an attempt to regain a little of the playboy persona Angelina so easily decimated, he smirked. “Giving me a fake number was bad enough, but giving me the number to Pesto Pete’s Premium Pizza? That hurt, Angel. Salt on an open wound.”

She laughed and gave him a genuine smile. “It was pretty mean. Like I said, I’m sorry. But it’s the only local number I have memorized, River from LA.”

“I suppose my presence here is as damning as yours.” He ran a hand through his hair as he approached the counter. “I do live in LA, but my brother owns Serpent’s Tongue and I’m staying around for a while as his piercer until he finds a permanent replacement.”

“Birch is your brother?” She narrowed her eyes. “Your actual brother?”

“My actual, real brother.” He extended his arms out and took a step back so she could make an accurate appraisal. “You don’t see the similarities?”

He knew he didn’t look like Birch. Though they sported the same bone structure and smile, Birch was a little rougher and a lot tougher across the board.

Different eye and hair color aside, his older brother was muscled in that hard-working way; he wasn’t sporting the kind of muscles refined only through weights and training.

One of them lived a full life of hard knocks, while the other…

While I got out.

“Ah, now I see it,” Angelina murmured as she picked up the box of jewelry and handed it to him. “It was good to see you again, River. Tell Birch I appreciate his business and if he needs more, I usually put my order in mid-month.”

He was dismissed.

And dumbfounded.

She left him no opening to do anything more than accept the package with a promise to relay the message before he walked out, his confusion over what the hell just happened playing out in his mind to the sounds of the cheerful chimes overhead.

*

River rinsed the last of the shaving cream from his face, strode over to his suitcase, and pulled out a change of clothes.

Although his childhood bedroom was outfitted with a new dresser and a closet waiting to be filled, he couldn’t bring himself to empty his belongings into them.

It felt less real this way, more like a business trip to a hotel that happened to be staffed with his brothers and a bossy blond manager.

Besides, he was never around long enough to do much more than shower, toss on clean boxers, and hide out until everyone else was asleep.

Lifting his cell up, he swiped his screen to life and opened one of his social media accounts.

Notifications were through the roof as expected.

Unwilling to dive back into that side of his life yet, he shut his phone off and bounced it toward the foot of the bed before he adjusted the collar of his shirt and gave himself a solid once-over in the mirror.

Jodie would be borderline appeased if she was here.

His hair was slicked back in a strip, the few stray strands intentional. He’d chosen a green button-down to go with the designer jeans his manager adored, her cold glare having lit up for a split second when he’d first tried them on.

Add his clean-shaven jaw to it, and he was ready to put on a happy face or, as he saw it, ready to wade into the River of Denial.

Grunting at his own joke, he took the stairs two at a time and gave Jocelyn a wave on his way out the door.

His car was parked in the driveway, but he needed to walk, needed to clear his head of what had gone down between him and his ex before he could even begin to think about the fallout online, where her followers would be waiting to mobilize against him while his own lay in wait for his command.

He wanted no part of it. He wanted to let their relationship die in the living room of the showcase condo they’d shared for two years. But what he wanted and what he had to do for his career were two separate entities.

Besides, he had the best in the business on his side to guide him, even if he’d had yet to reach out to her since he’d arrived in Epson ten days ago.

Jodie was a tornado with a steel-trap mind.

She understood the psychology of social media better than most, and she weaponized it against anyone who dared cross her clients.

He had no doubt that her plan would garner the results she wanted—as long as he followed orders.

And although he doubted Birch wanted any part in the bullshit online drama he was dealing with, he knew his brother wouldn’t put up too much of a fuss about taking a few pictures in Serpent’s Tongue.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced all thoughts of Windy Leigh, the AI photos, and his destroyed reputation out of his head. Wallowing was getting him nowhere.

With a shake of his head, he continued on foot toward work, passing the Epson water tower and everything it stood for in this small town.

It was a looming reminder of where he came from and why he left.

It was also a town landmark, a visual representation of the divide between the haves and have-nots.

And as a Baker, he was not only a have-not growing up, he and his brothers were pretty much the poster children for have-nots.

He made it to the small strip mall which housed Serpent’s Tongue and did a subtle scan of the area, his relief at seeing the closed sign still sitting in the window of Wholly Yours short-lived when Angelina’s friend waved to him from across the lot.

She was stunning, but she watched him with a look he knew all too well and no longer trusted, her dark eyes glinting with promises of the bad things she would like to do to him before tossing him aside.

Back when he was too young to know better, too cocky to understand, and too horny to care, he was a prime target for the older women around Epson.

Waitresses, mothers of two, even his former science teacher were more than happy to play with a know-it-all teenage boy who was desperate to prove he was a man and worth more than his family name carried.

Hell, even Jodie was more than happy to see him being pursued by models and photographers decades older than he was, and Jodie was the closest thing to a mom he’d ever had, going all the way back to when he was practically an infant.

“River? Hey! River! It’s me, Zoe,” she called as she approached him, and his skin crawled as she looked him over like he was a slice of cherry pie. “Are you here to see Angelina? Because she isn’t here yet but she will be soon.”

He did his best to take a subtle step back to put a little space between them. “I actually work down at the end of the mall with my brother.”

“Oh my god, is your brother the guy who owns the tattoo shop? I should check that place out.” There was a slight growl to her voice before she seemed to check herself, and her demeanor changed. “But enough about me. Let’s talk about you and Angelina…who just came around the corner.”

His life goal for the last three days had been to avoid the woman who’d been haunting his thoughts night and day. He’d gone so far as to slip out the back door into the alley at the end of his shift just to avoid running into her and possibly giving away his growing obsession with her.

But lucky him, his walk to work had put him twenty minutes behind schedule and now she was standing thirty feet away with her back to him while she unlocked her shop door. So he responded the best way he could.

“There’s no me and Angelina. There’s me and work, and that’s where I need to go now.

” Realizing he sounded like a complete dick, he gave her the same smile that saved his ass with Jodie every few months.

“It was great running into you. Hope you’ll come check out Birch’s work sometime. He’s the best in the state.”

Zoe crossed her arms, her dark eyes narrowing in thought.

“Mm-hmm. I absolutely believe you as much as I believe her. But fine, you two can play it this way if you want. I’ll give you a word of advice, though.

She doesn’t have the whole Wiccan thing going, but she knows things.

She can spot a lie before you even think it.

Which is why I’m not going to give you any of those ‘mess with my friend, mess with me’ talks, because she’ll toss you out on your ass in a heartbeat if she thinks you’re fucking with her. ”

She patted him on the arm, gave him a cheeky grin, and left him standing in the parking lot while she walked into Wholly Yours and started chatting with the pretty boho woman in an orange crocheted coverlet and bright patchwork miniskirt.

The pretty boho woman who was walking to the door of her shop and giving him a warm smile through the glass.

She was playing with the necklace around her throat, her delicate fingers trailing along the green crystal over and over while she waited without a hint of impatience.

In the morning light, he could see honey highlights in her long hair, the casual tousled style sending his mind straight to the gutter where it could wallow in thoughts of gripping that incredible mane while he took her from behind.

He knew he was staring at her. Maybe even creeping her out.

But he couldn’t look away, not when memories of pounding into her while she moaned beneath him were so fresh in his mind.

She reached for the closed sign, stopped in her tracks, and tilted her head just as she’d done the last time he saw her.

Her amber eyes studied him, traveling from his feet up to his face.

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her face softening when she seemed to find something she was looking for.

He’d been appraised hundreds of times by agents and photographers, executives and headhunters.

Women had been blatantly checking him out since he was sixteen.

He was used to being assessed for what he could provide, what he might be good for, where he might be lacking. Windy Leigh examined him daily.

But this was different, like Angelina wasn’t looking for his flaws.

And he panicked.

Thanks to his deadbeat mom and heavy-handed dad, he could handle a lot of shit.

What he couldn’t handle was being seen, because being seen meant being used.

He’d spent most of his twenty-five years ensuring no one saw more than what he wanted them to see—the body, the face, the hair, the attitude.

And for a good chunk of those later years, he’d made sure no one had a reason to look further.

As long as he posed on command, purred against the right neck, and projected the perfect mixture of cockiness and sincerity, everyone around him got what they wanted.

So without so much as a wave or a fake smile in return, he did the smartest thing he could do. He turned tail and jogged to Serpent’s Tongue to hide until sundown.