“And I am ever grateful,” Jackson says, smiling at me. The man’s ice blue eyes set me on edge, and I can feel an aura of threat emanating from him.
Like there is a deep crack in his soul where there is only malice. I can’t trust him.
“Talon was a good man,” Sara chokes out. “He tried hard to take care of us.”
“He did,” Jackson agrees. “And it was the death of him.”
I look around the table, and I don’t need my years of black ops training to read the people sitting with us. There are some who look at Jackson with complete adoration, as if the sun is shining directly out of his asshole. The rest—like Sara—are keeping their eyes down so they don’t look directly at me.
Even though I have complete trust in my own skills, I suddenly wish Rex and the others hadn’t left so early this morning. I know they wanted to get back to their families and clear the area to make the Clover pack feel less threatened, but it’s left me feeling exposed.
I don’t think Jackson can outright challenge me and still keep his good boy image, but he could certainly arrange an unfortunate accident for me.
“The first thing I’ll do is send for some supplies,” I say. “I’ll call in some of our head producers and guild leaders so we can raise the standard of living for everyone. Then we’ll talk about joining Clover to the modern world.”
“That sounds great,” Jackson says, smiling. “I feel very lucky to have you with us.”
Lurking in his cold gaze, I can feel terrible deception, and I get the feeling it suits him just fine if the town stays isolated.
He looks like he’d love to be king out here, with every single citizen at his mercy. Damn, it must have fucked him up to have a bunch of black ops military toughs take Talon’s place!
“We are lucky to have you,” Sara says to me. “If we had to lose Talon, then it’s good to have his place taken by someone who is kind.”
“Here, here!” Henry says, raising his glass.
A few others follow suit, and we all toast to Sara’s words.
As we finish our meal and start to mingle, I try to maneuver towards the three elders, but Jackson keeps getting in my way, with his mate Melanie always trying to stay by my side.
“Come over and talk with my other good friend, Hank Norville,” Jackson says, trying to lead me across the park. “He grows wheat and produces all our cereals. He’s an absolute genius—”
“Actually, I was hoping to speak to the elders,” I say, trying to push past him. “I’m very eager to hear your early settler stories, as well as what things were like under Talon’s father.”
“Of course!” Jackson says. “It might have to wait for another time, though. I’m sure the old folk are tired by now. Melanie?”
“Yes!” she says, unsticking herself from my side to hurry over to the elders. “I’ll get them on their way home, and maybe you can talk to them tomorrow. We shouldn’t put too much stress on the poor old dears.”
“Of course not,” I mutter. “You’re absolutely right.”
Well-played, you two. You’ve made an art out of making your way look like a sainthood, and anyone who argues against you is a monster.
As Melanie ushers the elders from the park, Sara takes my hand and leans on my arm a little. I look down and see she’s smiling, but her eyes look pained.
“Are you having a good time?” I ask her.
“Of course,” she says, smoothly. “The pack has done a lovely job of putting together a welcoming party—especially Father.”
“Thank you,” Jackson says to her. “You of all people know how hard I work to keep the pack happy and safe.”
This slimy bastard is standing there smiling like he didn’t sell me his only child!
A look passes between the two of them, and Sara tightens her grip on my hand.
“Come on, Shawn,” she says. “Let’s go and see Father’s friends. I’m sure they have important news for you about their supply for the year.”
“Of course,” I answer, following her. Jackson quickly falls into step beside us.
For the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, Sara stays by my side, smiling and laughing while keeping hold of my hand. I want to relax and enjoy her affection, but the longer it goes on, the more it begins to grate on me with its insincerity.
