Page 35 of Pack of Crooks

My throat tightens. Milly has always been so good to us, and I hope I’m half as good of a friend as she is. “Thanks, Mil.”

“Go get that pack dick.”

Stifling a burst of laughter, I roll my eyes and head into the bedroom, quickly grabbing an outfit and changing in the bathroom. I smooth my hair, add eyeliner, swipe on a dark burgundy lip stain I lifted from Sephora, and inspect myself. The makeup is probably overkill with the bunny mask, but it makes me feel great.

September is a weird month. Sometimes it’s cold, sometimes it’s hot. Right now, it’s hot as balls and so is the apartment. Air conditioning is expensive and it’ll cool off enough tonight that we should be okay. With the stifling heat, my shorts are much more comfortable, and this way, I won’t be sweating all night long like I would if I wore pants.

Milly gives a low whistle as I shut the bedroom door. I grin, grab my crossbody bag, making sure there’s still a weapon. I shove the jar of lotion Mad gave me in there as well, tucking my phone into the front pocket and slipping into my favorite black Chelsea boots that nearly got me arrested when I stole them.

“You look ready to take a knot.”

I shoot Milly an incredulous look. “I’m going to work.”

She hums. “Those shorts are definitely giving take me daddy.”

They’re not super short, but they are form fitting and instead of regular material, the right thigh has studded straps that crisscross and buckle together. “These were a five-finger discount,” I tell her. “They’re cute.”

“Everything you have was a five finger discount.”

I scoff, not actually offended. “Uh, no. I bought the toilet paper.”

She laughs and walks with me to the door. “Text me when you get there and when you leave.”

“Deal. If Lottie wakes up?—”

“We’ll be fine,” Milly says, pushing me out of the door. “Go get that pack.”

“I’m only going for the job.”

She lifts her eyebrows. “Uh-huh. True or false: You spent last night rubbing their shirts all over your face?”

My eyes narrow. “False. I didn’t rub against them like some feral omega, I simply blanketed myself in them.”

“You’re so fucked,” she says with a smirk.

Sighing, I look away. “I know, but the job comes first. We need the money.”

“Maybe you can have the best of both worlds?” she suggests.

I love her for it, but I’m trying to suffocate the hope that’s been building in my chest. The world has never been kind to me and courting doesn’t always equal being packed up. Who knows, they may decide to add me to their body count (the bloody one, not the fun one). Either way, I’m taking this whole situation one day at a time.

Giving Milly a quick hug, I set off before I can reason myself into staying. Safety 101: Don’t meet up with strange men you just met. For Lottie’s sake, I hope she takes the do as I say, not as I do to heart.

The trip to the address on the letter Ezra sent flies by and soon enough I’m in a rundown part of town that has my hand slipping into my bag, clutching the gun I keep there. The street lamps are all dead except for one that flickers at the end of the block.

That’s definitely not terrifying. Hey, maybe I’ll really follow in my mom’s footsteps and die broke.

Get out of your head, Hazel.

Blocking out the dark train of thought, I take a calming breath and glance at the parking lot behind me. The space is fenced in, a cheap chain linked attempt at protecting the former employees’ vehicles. Grass sprouts up through the cracks in the pavement, and portions are crumbled to jagged rocks and pebbles. There are a few cars parked farther down the street, but aside from the wheels of a shopping cart rattling down the next street over, this place is deserted.

I face the unassuming brick building with boarded up windows. The old textile factory has seen better days. Looks can be deceiving though. This place was abandoned for a few years, but it’s since been bought by an organization called Pack Enterprises.

There wasn’t much else to find in my hour of searching earlier today. Outside of owning this building, Pack Enterprises all but doesn’t exist. That’s probably another red flag. Maybe I was a bull in a past life, because I keep charging straight at the vibrant color, ignoring every rational thought.

To make sure the only people who care about me can come for me in case I die, I text Milly and drop her my pin.

MILLY