Page 9 of Pack of Crooks

A warning bell goes off inside my head.

Blood rushes through my veins as I take another step, chasing the adrenaline and curiosity as the man I’d been following joins the other two, crossing his arms and watching me approach. There’s a chair directly in front of them, and three behind them. The space is otherwise empty.

They could be serial killers.My voice of reason is much too late to the party. My sense of self-preservation is long gone. Men in masks will do that to an omega.

With my chest fluttering, I walk as casually as possible toward the seat meant for me, stealing a glance at them. The guy in the blue mask is big, obviously strong, but also soft. The green masked man is smaller than the other two, but that’s not to sayhe’s little. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that stretches tight over a muscled torso. His designation is covered by his sleeve.

“Was there a sale at Party City?” I ask as I take my seat, arching an eyebrow. “I’ve always wanted a bunny costume.”

Red mask chuckles. “I found. . .” He trails off and gives me a pointed look.

“Heather.”

“Right, I foundHeatherhere outside with her foot on another omega’s throat.” The way he says my fake name makes it clear he knows it’s a lie. Whatever. They’re wearing masks for the same reason I’m wearing a disguise.

Smoothing my wig, I sigh. “In my defense, she deserved it.”

They all laugh under their breath. Good. We’re off to a great start. They take their seats. They’re much closer than I anticipated. My knees almost brush against the one in blue, who is sitting in the middle of the trio. A giant, hulking beast of a man. My throat goes dry and the faintest touch of strawberries fills the air around me. It’s so light that I hope none of them notice, given that they’re wearing those plastic masks.

Get it together, Hazel. You’re here for a job, not to get railed.

The guy in blue clears his throat. “You can refer to me as Bear, that’s Wolf—” He jerks his thumb toward the guy in the red mask who twinkles his fingers at me. Wolf is definitely trouble. My forehead creases. Something about him is familiar.

Bear continues, pointing at the lean and muscled man in the green mask. “And this is Hawk.”

All predators. My pulse flutters.And who’s the prey?

Wolf rests his forearms on his thighs, mask locked on me. “Were you going to kill her?”

“Who? Tiffany?” Rolling my eyes, I shake my head and glance around the room, but there’s not much to see given that it’s dark beyond our little halo of light. “She was annoying me, but not enough for me to kill her.”

“I bet red looks beautiful on you.” Wolf murmurs.

Oh he’scrazy, crazy. Definitely have to watch out for that one.

His friends cast him looks, but with the Purge masks, it’s impossible to tell if they’re irritated, encouraging him, or bored.

“Riiiight, so is this the interview or?”

“It is, in its own way,” Hawk says, speaking for the first time, his voice like a midnight lullaby from a lover.

“It’s simple, really,” Wolf adds.

“One of us has a key. Your job is to get it from us,” Bear finishes.

My brow wrinkles. “That’s it?”

“You have to sit in our laps to do it,” Wolf says quickly, and I swear I can practically feel his wicked grin.

They fall silent. Wolf leans back, rests his hands on his thighs, and pats one in invitation. He thinks I won’t? This is the weirdest fucking interview, but whatever. Sighing, I stand and walk to Hawk first, shooting Wolf a haughty smirk as I place my hands on Hawk’s shoulders and plop into his lap. His hands instinctively grab my ass.

Tsking, I grab his wrists. “No touching,” I whisper and wink, placing his hands behind his head. This close, the green neon of his mask is bright, and he smells like warm, fudge brownies on a rainy Sunday afternoon. Fucking delicious. I focus on the task I’m meant to complete. Running my hands over his chest, down his abs. Damn, he’s ripped. Note to self, start doing crunches.

I swear I hear him groan when I lift up a little and slip my hands between our bodies, groping his pockets while my face is inches away from his mask. Would his eyes be green too? That would mean Wolf’s would be red, and honestly, that’s probably not unrealistic.

His pockets are empty, so I move my hands to his hips, take my place in his lap again, stiffening like a certain appendagebeneath me, tucking my bottom lip between my teeth as warmth fills my belly. I mentally curse the blossom of strawberry that’s working overtime to get past the scent blockers.

It’s beenwaytoo long since I’ve had sex if this is the thing that turns me on.