KADY
The Blandon Pack live in House 29.
HALE
We’ll find him, Kady.
She doesn’t reply, only sends more Larry pictures. There’re at least fifteen of them—Larry sprawled over a cushion, Larry’s giant paws playing with a curtain, Larry cuddled up in Kady’s lap wearing a smug smile, and him tucked into sheets, rubbing his whiskers against her bare leg. I swallow hard at the sight ofher smooth, silky skin. How is it rational to feel this jealous of a damn orange fluff ball?
Riven and I grab a golf cart then speed off to the alpha quad. The moment we park, we hop out, stopping every alpha we see to show them a photograph. Most simply laugh or make a snarky remark about Larry’s appearance. Their attitudes irk me—so much so that I’m starting to become protective over him myself.
Finally, Hale and Ezra appear, parking Janice then joining us. Between the four of us, we come up with a plan to cover the entire quad. It’s a large area, so there are many places for a cat to hide. If we don’t find him soon, we’ll have to print fliers.
“Larry!” I pace down the sidewalk. “Larry!”
Up ahead, I spot Shea Cockburn, slinking back to his house. His hands are empty, but I watch him closely. I hang back until he’s gone inside, then I approach their pack house. My nose wrinkles at the smell of rotting garbage. The place is an absolute dump, with overflowing trash bags piled outside. How can three guys produce so much waste?
I sneak down the side of the house, craning to look over the gate into their yard. Unsurprisingly, it’s also filled with junk—broken bicycles, a few smashed-up barbecues, and mechanical parts that look like they’ve been pulled from a rusty car.
That’s when I hear it. A faint scratching noise coming from an overturned trash can coupled with a faint meow.
It can’t be… Can it?
Not caring about the possible consequences for trespassing, I effortlessly scale over their 6′ fence, dropping down on the other side on both feet. During some of my misguided attempts at youth journalism, I got pretty good at getting in and out of places I shouldn’t have been—much to my mom’s dismay, coming home in dirty clothes from squeezing underneath fences.
I scan the yard, finding no sign of the Blandon Pack. However, one of the back windows of the house is open, andfaint voices come from inside. I duck, making sure I stay lower than the height of the window, then creep closer to the trash can.
“Why’d you have to go and take her cat?” The alpha speaking sounds like he has a blocked nose from his nasal tone. “It’s reckless, Kyro!”
Do I prioritize rescuing Larry or getting evidence? Ignoring my instincts yelling at me to get the cat, I grab my phone and hit record. This could be the proof we need to get the Blandon Pack off campus and away from Kady for good.
“I thought you’d be happy, Ty,” another voice, which I assume belongs to Kyro, replies. “We wanted to teach her a lesson.”
“Yeah,” a third voice adds. “She’s making a fool out of us. This’ll teach her.”
“Maybe we can blackmail her with it?” Kyro suggests. “Get her to tell everyone that we’re the best alpha boyfriends she ever had? She may even want to court us—for real—this time?”
Anger seizes my muscles, wanting to rip his tongue straight out of his mouth. He’s delusional to think he has a chance with Kady after everything they’ve done.
“I need some air,” Tyler huffs.
The back door flies open, giving me only seconds to dart behind a battered chair. Through the gaps between the legs, I watch Tyler pace back-and-forth across their patio. A few minutes later, he returns inside, finally letting me exhale properly again.
“Okay,” I hear Tyler say. “I think we should just get rid of it.”
Get rid of it? As in hurt Larry? Hell fucking no are they touching a single hair on his fluffy tail. I’ve heard enough.
I slip my phone back into my pocket as the meowing from inside the bin gets louder, as if Larry can sense what the Blandon Pack is contemplating.
I approach the bin cautiously, hoping none of them turn to look out of the window. With bated breath, I slowly lift up the bin. Larry blinks up at me, eyes half closed from the sudden stream of light. He hisses, sticking his pink tongue out, an empty chip bag balancing on his ear.
“Hi, Larry,” I whisper. “I’m here to take you home, okay?”
Larry tilts his face to the left, studying me. His eyes seem to narrow in suspicion, as if he’s assessing me. Since when are cats so perceptive? He licks his paw. His ginger fur is matted with dried blood from where something in the trash can must have caught him.
I slowly remove my coat, careful not to make too many sudden movements to spook Larry or alert the Blandon Pack to my presence. From inside, I can still hear the guys bickering about their next steps. I’m pretty sure I overhear a ransom sum being discussed.
“Come on, Larry.” I drop the coat over him then scoop him up into it before he can make a sound. “You’re coming with me.”
