Page 41 of Retribution

“Did your boss ask you to tail me?” Isolde asks.

“Don’t pin this on him,” I say quickly, hurrying to catch up to her as she turns away. I can admit when it’s no longer necessary to keep my distance. “He doesn’t like that you’re traipsingaround asserting your independence, but only because Lucas is hard wired to take care of people.”

“He’s a good alpha,” Isolde murmurs, continuing toward the entrance of the store.

“Why are you here?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“I need clothing that isn’t leather,” she says, pulling out a cart.

“Why?” I ask. I’m being annoying, but persistence is the only way I know.

It’ll either get me a response or stabbed. I’m willing to chance it.

“Have you ever walked around in tight leather pants before? There are a lot of different kinds of looks that you’ll get,” she mutters, not checking to see if I’m following as she begins to walk away.

Spoiler: I’m right on her ass.

“Isolde,” I chuckle. “If I wear tight leather pants, it’ll be because I’m stripping and my reward is dollar bills.”

Her lips twitch in amusement as she strides toward the women’s clothing aisle.

“Most people are scared of me,” she says. Her hair is still tucked up in her hat, and I really want to see it. Ignoring the instinct to pull it free, I shrug.

“You walk like a predator, Isolde,” I tell her. “There’s nothing wrong with that, but I don’t know if a change of clothing will fix that.”

Glaring at me, she grabs a pink sweater to attempt to prove me wrong.

“Really?” I ask. “You’re a brat, aren’t you?”

“If the definition for that is doing the exact opposite of your words to prove I can, then maybe,” she muses, finding more leggings and soft cargo pants.

“Oliver says that you work under contract?” I ask, not wanting to yell out that she’s a killer.

“Yes,” she says, continuing to shop.

Everything she picks up is feminine and soft, and very omega-like. It’s almost as if she thinks she needs to dress completely opposite of how she usually does. However, they’re all normal items for an omega to want. I refuse to bring her attention to it because I want to see her in some of them.

I almost trip as I think about that. What am I doing? She’s my boss’ scent match. She definitely doesn’t belong to me, and the fact that I’m trailing behind her like a puppy is completely unlike me.

Fuck, maybe I’m the one who needs to get laid if I’m crushing on her. The idea makes me slightly ill, but this omega isn’t for me.

“Are you going to continue your job?” I ask. “I run interference when things go south, so I’d like to know so I can keep everyone in Lucas’ pack safe.”

“I’m not part of his pack so I think your job is safe,” she says dismissively. “I also have to work, so yes I’ll be continuing to do it.”

“If you’re going to reject him, you may as well tell him now,” I growl, annoyed by her attitude.

“Why would I do that?” she asks, a small whine slipping from her lips.

That’s just wonderful. I’m already fucking this up and stressing her out.

“You won’t give him a chance, you’re refusing to live with him, and you don’t want to be part of his pack. Am I missing anything?”

“Quite a lot,” she mutters. “Maybe you should try to pull your head out of your ass. I’ve been alone for a long time. I’m notgoing to jump into bed with people because you think I should. I have standards and needs.”

“He lives in a fucking mansion,” I scoff. “What standards are you going on about?”

“The standard where I get my own space.”