Page 31 of Pack of Crooks

This is probably the start of a series of bad decisions, but some outside force must want us together. I ran into Killian just yesterday. Went for the interview. Robbed them. They stalked me today, and then killed someone for touching me. Somehow, I went from broke with nothing but Lottie to live for to the center of this pack’s attention.

And I don’t exactly hate it.

nine

HAZEL

It isn’t until we’re halfway to the school that I begin to question my sanity. Every good parent would say it’s dangerous to ride in cars with people you’ve only just met. I’d be pissed at Lottie if she did the same, but I’ve been through worse. Maybe that’s why it was so easy to agree to let them court me and drive me to Lottie’s school. Maddox is almost painfully focused on driving. Each movement he makes is so precise. Controlled. So much so that I begin to wonder if he’s even aware of how much his shoulders are bunched together.

Killian is in the passenger seat, head nodding with the rock music and fingers drumming along with the song. He taps out every beat in time. Ezra is in the back with me, legs spread wide like a king. His arm is draped along the top of the seats, fingers so close to my neck.

My body vibrates with awareness of their proximity, but worry for Lottie has my scent tainted with sour notes. I fidget in my seat for the hundredth time as we idle at a stoplight.

Ezra’s touch finds the nape of my neck and he kneads the tense muscles. “Take a breath.”

I do as I’m told, taking orders from the handsome beta. Killian turns around. His eyes heat as he takes us in. His lover and maybe soon to be lover snuggled up in the back seat. It’s nice that neither seem to be jealous about me coming into the picture. They both seem totally comfortable with their relationship and more than willing to let me be a part of it.

My thoughts wander into the ditch, but soon enough, Mad parks in a free space outside of the school. The pack starts to unbuckle and panic jolts through me. Lottie is wary of new people, and as much as I’m curious about this pack, introducing her to them so soon is something Mom would have done.

“I, uh. Thank you for the ride,” I begin, clearing my throat. “So, my sister doesn’t know you, and I know you’re courting me now, but I’m not ready for her to meet you. Not yet at least.”

Mad’s finger taps on the steering wheel four times. A pause. Another four taps.

Kill narrows his eyes and starts to say something, but Ezra holds up a hand, cutting him off.

“We understand that, right, guys?” He eyes the two alphas like he’ll smack them both if they argue.

“Yeah, we get it,” Mad says, tone deep and gruff.

Kill releases a dramatic sigh. “Fine. I guess we’ll have to hang out another day.”

I bite back a smile. It’s comforting knowing I’ll see them soon. The more I hang out with them, the more I can explore this thing between us and figure out if there’s a viable relationship here.

“Can I see your phone?” Ezra asks. I hand it to him and he quickly sends a message to himself. His device buzzes in his pocket. “Go take care of your sister. I’ll text you the guys’ numbers and we’ll check in later.”

“And don’t try to hide from us.” Kill gives me a wicked smirk. “Unless you want us to hunt you.”

That wild streak inside me rises to the challenge even though I’m not opposed to the idea of this pack coming after me. It might even be kind of fun. I guess Kill wasn’t so wrong when he said I enjoy scare tactics. Blame it on the adrenaline.

“I guess we’ll see about that, now won’t we?” I tell him with a saccharine smile, batting my eyelashes. Snatching my phone from Ezra, I open the door, hop out of the car, and head toward the school entrance.

“You can’t hide from us,” Kill calls out of his window.

I whirl around. “Wanna bet?”

His features darken, and I blow him a kiss. He catches it and licks his palm and slaps his cheek. It’s so delightfully unhinged that my cheeks ache from how hard I’m smiling at him.

As soon as my heels hit the linoleum, the excitement buzzing in my chest dies. The secretary has me wait in the small lobby where a mom sits with a baby carrier. She smiles at me.

“Picking up yours?”

“Yeah.” I make a face. “I guess she’s sick.”

At first I used to explain our situation, but then that always led to questions about our mom, which led to some super awkward silences where people were trying to decide between pity or horror. Now, for the sake of not making it awkward, I pretend like I’m a mom too.

The woman’s eyes widen and she very discreetly puts her leg in front of the baby carrier, as if that will block the germs. “Oh no. Mine has a dentist appointment.”

Lottie’s appearance saves me moreyou’re a stranger but I feel compelled to fill the silenceconversation. The woman tries to be polite but she glances between the two of us, either tryingto figure out who does my Botox or how young I was when I had Lottie.