He flicked the bottle cap across the room, showing his disappointment.
“I’m actually here about you.”
The creases in his brow deepened. “If this is some kind of fried-chicken intervention, you can get back in that muddy-ass truck of yours and roll on outta here.”
“Rumor has it that something’s going down, and you’re in the middle of it.”
His blue eyes narrowed before he nodded in understanding. “I’m not sure which is bigger—Switch’s mouth or his imagination.”
“Cut the shit. I can tell something’s going on. You’ve got that look.”
He belted out a laugh. “What look?”
“You’d be the worst poker player with your tells. Like the way you’re scratching the back of your neck and avoiding eye contact. And now you’re rubbing under your eye to stop scratching your neck.”
“Dammit, Raven. Maybe I got fleas.”
This time I laughed. “Still the same old bulldog.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
We clinked our bottles before taking a sip.
“So spill it. I’m going to find out one way or the other. You know I don’t want you involved in dangerous shit. Self-care means managing your cholesterol, eating healthy, avoiding stress, and not getting yourself killed.”
He sniffed. “You’re just mad because I told Wizard and his boys to take a hike. I don’t want their wolves pissing around my property, babysitting me like I’m a fragile fucking human. It’s bad enough they did all the repairs.”
I snorted. “Bad enough? They saved your home from collapsing on you or burning down. You shouldn’t have done that. I have a dangerous job, and I like knowing you’re safe. Having a wolf on the property isn’t the worst thing that could happen to you.”
He arched his brow while holding the bottle to his lips. “Since when did you become the parent?”
“Quit steering the conversation and tell me what you’re up to. You can trust me.”
“Jesus, girl. I know that.” Crush got up, peered out the window behind me, and closed the short curtains. Then he ambled into the kitchen, opened the freezer, and took out a gallon of ice cream. He set it down between us and offered me a serving spoon.
“Youdorealize they sell this in pint size.”
“Not this brand of pistachio. Just the fancy, expensive shit. That’s how they rip you off.” When he pushed his spoon in and tried to pull out a scoop, the handle bent. After straightening it, he shoveled the ice cream into his mouth.
I tapped my spoon against the edge of the carton, waiting for the condensation to crystallize and the ice cream to soften. “Are you in trouble again?”
He sighed. “It’s not about me. Funny you came by, because I was gonna call you.”
“About what?”
He locked his fingers together, his rough hands clean but the cuticles stained with grease. “Shifters are dying, and the packs don’t know what to make of it. The local Council hired bounty hunters, but this isn’t their area of expertise.”
I scooped a shaving of the ice cream even though I didn’t like the flavor. “Did they reach out to the higher authority for help?”
“Let’s just say that after the recent bust, the packs aren’t feeling too confident about working with that side of the law. Besides, the higher authority expects them to handle their own shit. They barely tolerate giving Shifters land. You can’t blame the packs for not trusting any of those people.” Crush waved a hand dismissively. “I guess you already know how many of them were involved in the fighting rings. Shifters don’t take that shit lightly. I got buddies who were once slaves. Some were kept in animal form for decades while serving their master. Anyhow, there’s no way in hell they’re involving the higher authority. The trust level is nonexistent until some of those fuckers prove themselves. They’ve got a lot of relationships to rebuild.”
I set down my spoon and rested my arm on the table. “So why are you involved?”
“Little girl, I’m involved in all the shit that goes down around here.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m sure that’s true, but why are youreallyinvolved?”
He dug in for a big helping this time. After taking a purposeful bite, he studied the spoon. “I might have dropped your name as someone who can help.”
