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Stay cool. Stop thinking shit that isn’t true. The guy’s here to help. Nothing weird is going on .

Even after chastising myself, I couldn’t stop my stupid mouth. “Well, what do you bring to the table? Maybe your friends are better equipped to handle this than you are.”

I winced, irritation burning through me for not controlling my temper and jealousy.

“What the fuck,” Trent barked, and glared at me in the rearview mirror as we sat at a red light.

“I know you’re the alpha, Cole, but you’re being a goddamn dick.

What’s your deal? Langston took time out of his life to travel all the fuck way down here and help save your son, but you’ve just been giving him grief the whole morning. Bro, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Shame washed across me in a hot and viscous wave. Langston kept his head down and continued texting. He was probably telling his buddies that he was stuck in a truck with a jealous, psycho boyfriend.

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, the limp-wristed response all I could muster. My wolf whined at the anger in Trent’s eyes.

He turned the truck onto the highway and gunned the engine headed for North Crest.

“Get your shit together, my man,” Trent said, shaking his head.

Silence descended upon us. Trent pushed the truck nearly thirty miles over the speed limit, getting us to North Crest in record time. In an attempt to salvage some of my self-respect and pride, I decided to extend an olive branch and get things back on track.

“Uh, what do we think the plan should be?” I asked.

Langston tucked his phone away as Trent parked on the curb and glanced at me. “Your call. I’m here to help. What do you think the best route would be?”

It took every ounce of strength I had to keep from sighing in frustration. It would be nice if the guy could act at least a little bit like an asshole. It would make my desire to act like a jerk less embarrassing. Shaking my worries away, I spoke with a bit more confidence.

“If Dallas brought Ashton here, then Kyle might work in this area. It could be his base of operations or something. We ask around, be subtle about it, see if anyone knows Kyle or has heard of him—or Dallas, for that matter. See what we turn up while we wait to hear what Zayde might turn up.”

Langston and Trent shared a look, both nodding appreciatively, and my shoulders relaxed a bit.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Langston said.

“Yeah. Let’s do this,” Trent said, opening his door.

Not wanting to split up—unsure who or what might be lurking around the corner—the three of us stayed close, strolling the main street as we did.

Langston was from Iowa, and Trent and I had both been away so long that I wasn’t worried that anyone in town would recognize us on sight.

Trent and I had been busy trying to fix our pack, so we’d had no time to adventure around and explore the old stomping grounds.

Since it was a weekday, the town was pretty quiet, but Langston spotted a coffee shop that had quite a few patrons.

“What about that?” he asked. “We could see if anyone’s up for a chat. Pretend we’re just passing through and getting a drink.”

Nodding, I crossed the street, and Trent and Langston followed.

The café wasn’t bustling, but there were more people here than we’d seen out on the street.

The three of us stood in line to order, and while we did, I took stock of the place.

Three younger women were waiting on and bussing tables, and one guy was behind the counter.

Of the customers, four were women and six were men.

Most were paired up, but a few were sitting by themselves.

The singles would probably be easier to speak to than the couples.

After ordering, we spread out, taking up spots around the shop and doing our best to blend in.

It didn’t take long for me to see Trent and Langston chatting up two women.

Leaving them to it, I glanced at the table across from me.

A man who looked to be in his early thirties was reading The Wall Street Journal .

“An actual paper?” I asked, grinning at the guy. “Don’t see that too much anymore.”

He frowned at me in confusion before looking down at the newspaper and smiling. “Oh, yeah. I prefer to actually hold the paper when I read it. It’s not the same reading it off a phone or tablet.”

“I get you.” I sipped my coffee. “I’m actually passing through town. It’s a nice neighborhood you have here. Do you live around here?”

The guy nodded even as he skimmed his paper. “I do. I work in the bank down the street.”

“Awesome, this is a great place. My buddy has actually been trying to get me to move here for a while. I thought it was too small for my tastes, but after visiting, I think it might be a nice quiet place to settle down.”

At the mention of a friend, the man’s interest was piqued, and he looked up from his paper again.

“You know a local?” he asked with a surprised smile. “Well, I know pretty much everyone in town. We’re the only bank. Who’s the guy?”

I waved him off. “You probably don’t know him. He tends to keep to himself.”

He folded the paper and set it aside, his polite grin turning into a full smile. “No, seriously, I’m sure I know them. Who are they?”

Giving him an exhausted but good-natured sigh, I smiled back. “A guy I went to college with back in the day. Kyle Alexander. Ever hear of him?”

His smile died as quickly as if he was a machine and I’d just pulled his plug from the wall. The grin became a cold and emotionless expression. Not only that, but there was a look of fear in his eyes that sent a chill up my spine.

“Huh,” he finally said, grunting the word, and grabbed his coffee, tucking his paper under his arm.

“Did I say something wrong?” I asked.

“Never heard of the guy.” He stood up so fast that he splashed coffee on his pants. He hurried toward the door, ignoring the spill, and rushed out.

It was like I’d told him his house was on fire. Before I realized what had happened, his seat was empty and I was gaping at the door. I’d expected a hint of recognition, at best. What I hadn’t bargained for was the terror I’d seen on the poor guy’s face.

I caught Trent’s eye, and he nodded at Langston. The three of us met outside and exchanged what we’d learned.

“When I mentioned Kyle’s name, the guy I was talking to turned white as a ghost and couldn’t get out of there fast enough,” I said.

Trent shrugged. “The woman I talked to was only passing through on her way south. Meeting some friends in New Orleans.” He chuckled. “She gave me her number, though.”

“Ever the playboy,” Langston teased. “Like those ladies in Tokyo when we were on leave that one time?”

Trent laughed. “Not quite.”

I chose to ignore the story. “Did you get anything, Langston?”

“Unfortunately not. My interaction was more in line with yours, though,” he said, nodding to me.

“I mentioned I was supposed to meet a potential business partner in town, but my phone had died and I needed directions. When I mentioned Kyle’s name, she clammed up.

Didn’t sprint out the door like your man, but she excused herself to the bathroom.

She never came out. Now, unless she’d had some bad tacos last night, I doubt she needed to spend fifteen minutes in the bathroom. It’s strange.”

We spent the next hour doing the same thing around town, with no success. In fact, word may have spread that three strangers were asking questions because even though it was early afternoon, the streets had become almost eerily deserted.

“Well, this is getting us nowhere,” Trent said. “Should we start knocking on doors? We could say we’re missionaries or something.”

“Right.” I snorted. “I’m sorry, do you have a few minutes to talk about our lord and savior, Kyle?”

“Screw it,” Langston said. “Let’s head back to the car. We can regroup at Avery’s. See if Zayde found anything.”

We’d crossed the street and were opening the doors to the truck when an elderly woman came hurrying down the street.

“Excuse me? Boys?” she called.

I glanced at her. She was a tiny little thing, old enough to be my own grandmother.

“Yes, ma’am?” I said.

She didn’t speak again until she was right next to us, glancing up and down the street to make sure no one was around. “Are you the boys looking for that rat bastard Kyle Alexander?”

I gaped at the venom and hatred in her words. She looked like the type of woman who would think saying the word “crap” was a mortal sin.

“We are,” I admitted, speaking slowly. “Sounds like word has spread?”

She glanced around again, fear painting her face a pale white. “You won’t hear anyone say anything about that man.”

Intrigued, I leaned close, keeping my voice low. “Why is that?”

She swept an arm behind her, gesturing to the entire street. “He’s got the whole town paid off and threatened to keep quiet. Hell, the bank would have closed up shop a couple years ago had he not floated them a loan. Everyone is too scared to step on his toes to say a darn thing about him.”

Well, that explained Mr. Bank Man in the coffee shop clamming up as soon as he heard Kyle’s name. What was going on here?

“I don’t understand,” Langston said. “Why is everyone afraid of this guy? From what my friends here say, he’s some sort of loan shark. He shouldn’t have the kind of pull to intimidate, finance, or terrorize a whole town.”

The old lady gave her head one quick shake, keeping her eyes locked on Langston. “If you think Kyle Alexander is some small-time loan shark and nothing else, then you’re in for trouble. People are terrified of him. He has the power to wipe us all out if he pleases.”

Trent, Langston, and I shared a look of pure shock. I’d known Kyle was dangerous. Hell, he’d murdered a good man in cold blood—of course he was dangerous. But lots of men were dangerous. The thing was, very few men inspired the kind of broad terror we were seeing here in North Crest.

“Is Kyle in town now?” Trent asked. “Do you know?”

“No. He’s somewhere else. No one has seen him for days. But—” she held up a finger and cast another furtive glance behind her “—if you come back on Thursday, you’ll get a good look at some of his goons. That’s the day they collect his taxes.”

“Wait,” I said, holding a hand up. “I thought he paid the town off to stay quiet?”

She gave me a bitter smile and shook her head.

“Yeah, he did. Swooped in with a big smile and a firm handshake, telling you that out of the goodness of his heart , he’d gone ahead and paid off your mortgage, or tax bill, or medical debt.

No more worries. Then, he shows up a few weeks later, saying that now you had to pay for his generosity.

Prick charges more than what the original payments were.

Except now, instead of worrying about foreclosure or bankruptcy if you don’t pay, you’re worried someone’s gonna put a bullet in your head while you sleep. ”

“Holy fuck,” Langston said.

“Language, young man,” she snapped.

“If my ears didn’t deceive me, you’ve got a bit of a mouth on you yourself, ma’am,” Langston shot back with a smile.

“Perks of age,” she retorted, and backed away, her gaze sweeping up and down the street again. “Remember what I said. Thursday.”

Without another word, she turned and hobbled away.

The three of us climbed into the truck, now much more wary, checking the side streets as we did.

Trent pulled away, and we stayed silent, watching for anything strange until we were beyond the city limits of North Crest. Once we were back on the highway, Trent banged a hand on the steering wheel and cursed.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” he asked, throwing a look back at Langston and me.

“No idea,” I said. “But we need to figure out who he really is and what the guy’s into.”