Page 4 of Cold Foot Revenge (Wreck’s Mountains #7)

Clearly, Wolf Mask had been desperate to keep him away from the Rabbit Hole, and for some reason, a part of Dylan trusted her.

He didn’t know why, and even if someone was holding a gun to his head, he still couldn’t explain it, but his instincts said he needed to heed her warning.

That wasn’t going to pull him off this hunt though.

He’d gone back the next day and parked across the street, out of range of any of the cameras at the Rabbit Hole, and he’d waited for her to come out. She hadn’t come out in the early hours of the morning with the other girls, which meant she probably had the night off.

He’d taken a picture of all the cars in the parking lot the night before, and one was missing from the line of run-down cars parked up front. It was an early two-thousands Lexus in a gunmetal gray. It had been in a wreck at some point and had dents and scratches down one side.

If he had to bet, he would guess that was Wolf Mask’s car.

So, he had a starting point. He could see the license plate numbers of the front row of cars in the picture he’d taken, and he’d done a search on Wolf Mask’s license plate number but came up with nothing.

He wasn’t as good at this detective stuff as one of the girls of the Cold Foot Crew would be, but he didn’t want to touch base there yet.

Already, he’d been avoiding Garret’s calls and texts asking where he was.

This had to be his hunt alone.

Today he’d gone and visited a couple of old friends, and though he’d brought up the Rabbit Hole, they’d all said they avoided that part of town now. Marriage and kids had tamed their friend group. Dylan definitely didn’t belong here anymore. Everyone had moved forward. Everyone but him.

He turned into the parking lot of the grocery store and parked.

The hotel had a minifridge and a microwave, and he was tired of greasy restaurant food.

Tomorrow he was heading to his parent’s house to catch up, and he was going to call Garret back, but for the rest of the day, he was going to spend researching the Rabbit Hole on his laptop.

He just needed a random kernel of information that would lead him down… well…down a rabbit hole.

This hunt was going to take a while, but he was prepared for that. He was renting his hotel room by the week.

If it took him ten years, he would find out what happened that night.

And it might. Garret had Changed in the downtown in front of a row of restaurants right in the middle of the day, and they’d had to leave town in a hurry to avoid police and Garret having to register as a shifter at the time.

There were so many stones left unturned back then.

There hadn’t been time, but trying to turn over those stones now, when the evidence had long gone cold was going to take some time and effort.

He shut the door to his truck and shoved his wallet into his back pocket as he walked up to the grocery store.

He didn’t know why he looked to the right, or why his eyes landed on the grey, early two-thousands Lexus, out of all the cars in the busy parking lot, but he did.

There was some instinct inside of him saying look over there .

Dylan came to a stop and blinked hard, thinking he was imagining it, but nope. The beat up Lexus with the dents on the side was still there.

He strode closer and checked the license plate, and sure enough, it was the same one.

There was no way. He looked around the parking lot. Things didn’t happen this easily.

His heart rate kicked up and Dylan jogged toward the sliding glass door entrance.

He didn’t even grab a cart. In a rush, he searched the produce section, and then three more aisles before he jogged down one of them and checked the back of the store. There were a lot of people here, but none with the red and blond hair Wolf Mask had.

He rounded a corner and ran right into a cart.

A petite woman with mouse-brown hair apologized and was in the middle of saying she didn’t see him there when she stopped talking and raised her delicately arched eyebrows higher.

Pretty lady. The natural kind of pretty too, where she looked pretty with no make-up.

“’Scuse me,” he muttered, looking around her down the aisle she’d just come down. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as he jogged to the next aisle. There was an older woman in this aisle with a couple of grandkids in tow, looked like. The next aisle had a guy, and the next aisle was empty.

Shit, what if he had missed her? What if she’d left while he was in the back of the store looking for her?

He searched that store up and down, but Wolf Mask was not here.

“Shit on a roach,” he muttered.

“What?” a woman asked from right behind him.

“Oh.” He offered a polite smile to the lady. “Just talking to myself.”

“Right.” The silver-haired woman frowned and pointed to the shelf behind him. “Are you done taking up the whole aisle?”

“Oh!” he said, realizing he was in her way. “Sorry.” He cast her one last glance as he walked away, and the battleax was glaring at him like she hated him. Geez, he never thought he would think this, but he kind of missed Montana right now. Darby was full of friendly folks.

Never once had anyone been rude to him in a grocery store. But a dozen times someone had struck up a conversation with him just to be friendly.

Huh. Maybe being away from Darby would make him appreciate what he’d had there more. Maybe he would like the memories of that place better.

Deflated, he made his way to the front and grabbed a cart, and in a fog shoved food into it.

Now, Dylan wasn’t the most organized of souls and had never in his life shopped with a grocery list, but today it would’ve benefited him.

By the time he got to the check-out line, he mostly just had breads and donuts, a couple of packs of cookies, Fruit Roll-Ups, and Hot Pockets.

In line, he frowned down at his wares and realized he hadn’t gotten anything he’d actually come in here for.

Gah, he was a mess.

Inhaling deeply, he leaned his forearms on the handle of the cart and scanned the candy racks thoughtfully. Nothing good in this line. He looked over at the next one and felt someone staring at him. A few lines over, he could see the pretty brown-haired lady looking at him.

She startled hard, and looked down at her cart, busted, but not before he’d seen her eye color—bright blue.

Recognition shot through him like a lightning bolt, and he stood up straight. “You!”

Her profile was rigid, her eyes wide and her lips pursed into a thin little line as she shoved her cart forward.

“Hey!” the guy in front of her griped as she hit him in the back of the leg.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Wolf Mask!” Dylan called, maneuvering his cart out of line to go get behind her. “Oh my God, you look so different.”

“Shhh!” she hissed at him, flashing him an angry look.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asked lower.

“Lady, you are right up on my ball sack, give me space!” the guy in front of her barked out.

“I can’t!” she said. “The guy behind me is crowding me too.”

“Hey, my guy,” the thirty-something yelled. “Back the fuck off.”

“Boy,” Dylan said, straightening his spine. “Don’t be cussing at me or this lady. Move forward if you want some space, you have a goddamn mile.”

Whatever he saw in Dylan’s face was whatever most men saw in his face when they tested him. He would fight a rhinoceros. He did not care about grown men’s attitudes and was perfectly comfortable teaching a lesson in manners.

The guy sighed heavily and pushed his cart forward into the completely empty aisleway.

“You’re still crowding me,” Wolf Mask hissed.

“Not on purpose,” he uttered, gesturing to the growing line behind him. There was nowhere to go. Everyone was crowding because there was a freezer of ice cream sandwiches across the one lane of space.

“What the fuck are you eating?” she asked, appalled as she stared at his economy sized box of Hot Pockets. “Are you a child?”

“No, I just like Fruit Roll-Ups. Why are you judging me?” he asked low.

“I like Fruit Roll-Ups too,” the six-year-old kid behind him said, raising his hand like he was in school.

Well, that didn’t help. Wolf Mask gave him a smug look right before she turned and gave him her back.

“I saw your car outside—”

“Oh my God, are you stalking me?” she whisper-screamed.

“No. Wait. Maybe? I did try to look up your license plate on the interweb.”

“The interweb?”

“Why are you repeating stuff I say in a mean voice?” he asked. “I’m not trying to ruin your day, lady. I was trying to find you outside of your…” strip club?

Don’t , she mouthed.

“Place of business,” he drawled out.

“Do I know you?” the guy in front of her asked, staring at her while he waited for the cashier to finish scanning his groceries.

“I’m not from around here,” she told him.

“Liar, liar, thong on fire—oof!”

Wolf Mask donkey kicked Dylan’s cart, and it shoved into his stomach. He was not ready for that, and it whooshed the wind out of his lungs for a few moments. He liked spicy woman.

“Why are you smiling?” she griped.

“I don’t know. I like smiling. Can we talk?”

“I’m not friendly.”

He allowed the sarcasm to drip from his tone as he said, “Clearly.” He stood up straighter and peered in her cart. “What are you buying that you’re so much better than Fruit Roll-Ups and Hot Pockets? Turkey. Bread. Cheese.” He frowned. “Sandwich stuff does actually sound good.”

“Stop looking in my cart. Stop looking at me. In fact, go in a different line. I don’t want to be seen with you.”

Dylan flinched, feeling slapped. “What’s wrong with being seen with me? I’m not that bad. I’m not embarrassing. I’ll have you know I was almost voted homecoming king here.”

“Almost, and like a million years ago,” she said without turning around.

“How old do you think I am?”

“Thirty-five.”

“Well. Good guess.” He’d forgotten she somehow knew him. “Do we know each other?” he asked.

“Oh my God, do you just fill space with noise?”

“What?” he asked, confused.