Page 19 of Tossed into the Mob (The Wolves of La Luna Noir #4)

NINETEEN

TREYTON

"Table for two?" The hostess smiled.

“Yes, please. We have a reservation by the window.” Brock slipped his arm through mine as the hostess escorted us to a table. “It’s our first time in the city, and we’re so excited.” He squeed. “We’re on our honeymoon.”

The hostess congratulated us, as did some of the people at the surrounding tables.

We were at an upscale restaurant that the kidnapper had chosen for the exchange. It was lunchtime, and the place was crowded with business people, tourists, and couples like us.

Adrian was seated at a booth, three tables away. He adjusted his tie and then fiddled with the cutlery. The briefcase with the ransom money was placed at his side, in the position the kidnappers had demanded. I worried some random person might snatch it.

Hunter was running the mission and had a team at the service entrance and across the road from the main entrance.

"Can I start you with some drinks?" our server asked.

I ordered soda water and juice and took Brock’s hand, gazing lovingly into his eyes. That part was genuine. Of the two of us, I appeared to be more nervous, whereas Brock was bouncing with excitement. I worried that when the kidnapper appeared, he'd jump up and attack him.

I was so impressed by my mate pretending to be a tourist in love. He was a natural at this subterfuge, much better than me, because I was stiff and awkward wondering if the bad guys would scent my discomfort. Or if my butt looked good in these pants.

What are you talking about? My wolf, like Brock, was really into what we were doing.

It’s a joke, sort of. I was trying to minimize my nervousness by thinking ridiculous thoughts.

Brock leaned across the small table. ”Two men just walked in. Dark suits, scanning the room."

My back was to the entrance, which Grandpa always said was a bad move. “Sit where you can see the door,” he always said. But my wolf could see them and told me not to turn around.

"Hunter, we've got two subjects entering the restaurant. Dark suits, early thirties,” Brock whispered into the disguised microphone.

"Copy that," came Hunter's voice through the earpiece. "We have eyes on the entrance."

Adrian’s face was already drained of color, and he swayed and gripped the table. I worried he was going to faint. Maybe this was the norm for my cousins, but like Adrian, this wasn’t part of my daily routine.

"This is really happening," Brock whispered as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin.

The kidnappers sat down across from Adrian.

Shit, I’d assumed they were going to take the money and go.

One was saying something to Adrian while the other scanned the diners.

Brock hissed at me to look at him. On the one hand, those guys were unassuming and didn’t stand out from the crowd, but I wouldn’t like to meet them in a storage unit.

Not all murders take place in storage units and not all storage units are unsafe.

Maybe my wolf should pair up with Brock. They were better suited to this scenario than me because my thoughts were zigzagging.

“They’re talking,” I said into the mic.

I plastered a smile on my face as the server returned with the drinks, and we ordered. I chose the first item on the menu, but I’d be sick if I ate anything, and I’d have to secret some food into a napkin or I’d create attention, coming to a restaurant and not eating.

Brock said he was going to the bathroom. I shook my head, whispering it was too dangerous, but he said it was fine. He mouthed, “I’m human.”

Please don’t draw attention to yourself, Brock, I thought to myself.

He’s good at this. He’ll be fine, my beast assured me.

My mate strutted toward the bathroom after asking the server loudly where it was. He hummed as he walked and smiled at people, but I was the one who needed the bathroom because my tummy was tied in knots at him being so close to the bad guys.

Your family are considered bad guys, my wolf not so helpfully pointed out.

I counted the seconds and then the minutes that Brock was gone. Damn, I should never have let him go by himself. Hunter asked what was going on, and I told him I was going to look for my mate.

“Stay where you are. Take a sip of your drink and look as though you’re enjoying yourself.” I recognized the command in his voice and did as he instructed, though I had to swallow hard to get it down.

Brock waltzed back and gave me a big kiss, saying I was the best husband ever.

“The only husband ever.” It was an effort to get the words out.

“The taller one is anxious to get out of here. I can smell his sweat.” He made a face.

I didn’t understand why the pair didn’t just take the money and go. I wanted this to be over.

My reaction was the opposite of Brock’s, and while my family had been in this business for decades, I’d lived apart from it.

My folks had seen to that. Sure, there was always a frisson of danger and excitement if my cousins mentioned business at one of our Sunday dinners, but today was the real thing, and I wasn’t comfortable, especially with Brock being pregnant.

But we fought Riggs and you fired the gun. My beast couldn’t understand my reluctance to be here.

Yes, I was protecting our mate, with the thought that you and I had to give our lives to save him. Here I was useless, because if I brought my beast out, the city would go into lockdown and the world would be in an uproar.

“One of them is anticipating trouble.” Brock drained his soda.

There was tension in Adrian’s shoulders as the shorter guy pointed a finger at him, and he was sweating so much he wiped the back of his neck with a napkin and reached for a glass of water.

Brock gripped my hand, an exaggerated smile on his face. “Honey, don’t you just love that stained-glass window. I want one in our first house.”

I glanced in the direction he was pointing. Shit, the nervous one had a bulge under his jacket. “They’re armed,” I murmured into the mic.

It was Ranger who replied. “To be expected.”

Sure, of course. I knew that. Brock was concerned but not overly anxious.

Adrian reached for his phone, and the shorter guy snapped, “Slowly.” But the nervous one knocked it away and it slammed onto the floor which got the attention of other diners. He then placed his other hand on the gun at his hip.

“My guess is they’re asking for more money.” Brock took a bite of the bread stick, and I jumped as it snapped.

The shorter guy grabbed the other guy’s arm, probably trying to stop the situation from escalating, but other diners were paying attention and beginning to look anxious.

"All teams stand by," Hunter's voice crackled. This was beginning to remind me of TV dramas, especially when the situation imploded.

"We need to do something," Brock said, half rising from his chair

"Our orders are to observe.”

"Forget the orders." Brock was already standing. "Trust me."

Before I could stop him, he was striding toward the kidnappers' table.

"Excuse me," he said as he approached the three men. "I think this is yours."

He held up Adrian’s phone. I was so nervous I hadn’t noticed him picking it up.

The shorter kidnapper looked furious at the interruption, but he couldn't exactly tell Brock to go away without making an even bigger scene. Adrian gave him a grateful smile and took the phone.

"No problem at all!" Brock beamed. “Have a nice lunch. The food here is supposed to be incredible."

"That was brilliant," I told him as he sat down.

"I figured that might tamp down the situation.”

It seemed to have worked.

The kidnappers must have accepted whatever Adrian was saying, and they took the briefcase and left. Hunter and Ranger’s guys would make sure Daphne was released and claim the money.

Adrian waited ten minutes before leaving. Our job was done. Now it was up to the other teams. My mate scarfed his food, saying he’d worked up an appetite.

Minutes later, Hunter's voice told us Daphne was free.

"Treyton, that was incredible." We were outside and headed to the car. Brock couldn’t contain his excitement, and he did high kicks along the pavement. The word manic popped into my head to describe his behavior. “Maybe Flint has other jobs for us.”

I was glad it was over and never wanted to participate in another La Luna Noir mission. And I pointed out that Brock was pregnant. He responded by putting both hands on his hips and narrowing his eyes.

Oops. My wolf hid deep inside me, leaving me to face my mate’s wrath.

“Correct me if I'm wrong but you’re the midwife, and you’re always saying being pregnant shouldn’t be treated as an illness.”

“Mmmm, but that’s for other people, not my mate.” I wished I could take the words back, but I was in too deep. "What about graduate school?"

He shrugged. “I can always go back to my studies in a year or ten.”

Hunter messaged that we were expected at a debrief at La Luna Noir headquarters.

The drive was tense. This morning Brock had been excited about helping with the mission. Now he was talking about making it his life's work, and I was worried about him and the baby.

My cousins congratulated us, and I made a point of saying Brock was the more professional.

“When can we do it again?” my mate blurted out, and Flint raised a brow and glanced at me, but I kept my expression neutral. I wasn’t Brock’s boss, we were equals.

“What you did today was low-risk.” Flint got up and stared out at the city below. “Not all our operations are like that.”

“I understand.”

I needed caffeine and headed to the expensive coffee machine Grandpa had bought for the office.

“You’re worried about him.” Rudy appeared at my shoulder. I offered him the first cup and made a second for myself.

"A little. He’s human and pregnant, and I think he’s confusing excitement for a change of career and a new life.”

"Hmmm.” Rudy settled into a chair and studied his drink. "You know who he reminds me of?"

"Who?"

"His father. Emilio had that same hunger even when we were at school.” There was a warning in his voice.

"You think Brock is like Emilio?" My belly clenched. If the family thought he shared his alpha father’s tendencies, they would never trust my mate.

“I’m not saying that. Brock might be trying very hard to be like the man who was devoted to the pack. That Emilio, not… you know, the other one. Question is whether that's because he's called to this work, or because he's trying to overcome his father's reputation."

Voices from pack members drifted out from the main room.

“I’m not saying he can't be trusted, just that we need to be careful."

"Blood is like blood. Look at what his father did."

"That's not fair. He's not responsible for Emilio's choices."

"Isn't he? He's got the same hunger, the same need to prove himself. What happens when proving himself isn't enough anymore?"

I exchanged glances with Rudy who suggested we get back in there.

But he put a hand on my arm, saying I couldn’t stop people having opinions.

But his face betrayed him. From all the stories I’d heard, when there was a huge disagreement in the pack, it was the precursor to trouble, and in La Luna Noir, trouble meant the spilling of blood.

I didn’t recognize any of the people huddled together. Not surprising as I didn’t work here.

"They don't trust him," I told Rudy.

"They don't know him yet, but they remember Emilio. And some wounds take a long time to heal."

If ever.

Brock had an extra hurdle in that he was human. The La Luna Noir members couldn’t scent his beast or shift with him, which was the first method of getting to know and trusting someone new.

My mate was in Flint’s office with my cousins, and I was unsure whether to go in because I wasn’t part of whatever they were planning.

Pack members were watching him, and I sensed how wary they were.

Brock and I had to have a heart-to-heart about what he wanted and what we wanted as a couple. Despite him saying the pregnancy didn’t factor into our decision-making, we were going to be parents and our lives were going to change.

How I wished we could go back to where we’d both grown up and leave my family’s business behind us.