He glances up at me before he starts texting. “I’m telling Owen what you’re doing here before he goes crazy for answers. He’s keeping an eye on your Alpha from a distance so he can round him up and we can all go see Lana together. She can figure out who you need to find, and maybe she can set his mind at ease, or arrange a meeting with this mystery woman.”
“Sounds good to me.”
I’m instantly relieved that I won’t have to sit here for much longer on a pretence.
It’s good to know Falcon’s not going to get in serious trouble for sneaking around, too.
“So, your pack’s lead Alpha is Johnny Falcone?” Shadow asks.
“He goes by Falcon, but that’s him.”
“That’s why I didn’t see your name on the list.”
“The list?”
“The list of pre-approved applicants. I snuck a peek when Lana was … otherwise engaged. If you guys came as a pack, you must have gone under the pack name Falcone.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah. We did.”
“If it were the other way around, you’d probably guess it was me. It’s not like there are too many people out there named Shadow.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re the only one.”
I thought my parents were assholes when they gave him that name, but that’s not what made them awful, and he grew into it pretty quickly, becoming a slightly morbid kid who grew intoa moody teenager who would wear make-up sometimes just to make our mother despair.
“I should have kept in contact.”
“That might have been nice, but I know you were busy starting a new life. We both were.”
“I’m glad you found a pack.”
“Me too. I knew we would find our people once we got out of that awful house.”
He hands his phone to me. “Put your number in and I’ll send you a text so you can save mine.”
It takes a second to remember my number, and a few more to enter it into his phone.
Handing it back to him, I watch him smile as he saves it.
“You realize I’ll be sending you all the craziest murder case links now?”
“I’m fully versed on Frank Palmer’s exploits, and I’m subscribed to at least one true crime podcast so you can do your worst.”
He looks vaguely impressed as he slips his phone back into his pocket.
“Frank Palmer is my number one obsession, but we’ll have to talk about that later.”
“Later, and not in front of Falcon,” I add, just to be sure.
His bright eyes pop, and I know it means he knows.
“He’s one of his sons?” he asks, his voice low.
I nod slowly. “Just don’t mention it around him. He’s touchy about it.”
For obvious reasons. His mother didn’t consent to the act that led to Falcon’s conception.
It was a brutal attack that left permanent scars.
