“Sure!” Peter said, happy that he was getting more hours. “That would be great.”
“Perfect. I’ll add you to the schedule tonight. Did Betty show you how to log on to the online system?”
Peter nodded. “She did.”
“Great, then if you could go in and accept the shifts by tomorrow night, that would be great,” Madden said.
“I will,” Peter promised.
Madden bid him good night, and Peter zipped up his coat and headed outside. The wind had picked up since that morning, and Peter zipped his coat up all the way to his throat and lowered his chin to protect his throat from the cold.
He couldn’t wait for summer. He liked spring, but the crazy variations in temperature were annoying.
Making his way to the bus stop, Peter didn’t pay any attention to the car that pulled up to the curb a few feet ahead of him. It wasn’t until his uncle jumped out of the driver’s seat that Peter reacted, and even then it was too late to stop his uncle from grabbing him and pushing him into the back seat and shutting the door behind him with a slam.
Peter only froze for a second before throwing himself at the door handle, scrambling to get out, only to find the door locked. He tried to unlock it, but nothing happened when he pulled on the button.
Heart hammering, Peter forced himself to be calm. The last time he’d seen his uncle he’d been terrified, the sight of him bringing everything he’d gone through to the surface, but now he just feltangry.
How dare his uncle fuck with him like this? Didn’t he understand what Tex and Carver would do to him?
“What the fuck?” he cried, startled when his uncle started driving. “Are youkidnappingme?”
The whole situation was absurd, but still, Peter wasn’t scared. His uncle might be willing to fuck him over and have him sent to prison for a crime he didn’t commit, but he wasn’tviolent.
Or maybe Peter was just in shock.
“I just need to talk to you,” his uncle growled, frazzled. “I need the password to those accounts. Just give it to me and I’ll let you out and we can forget this whole thing ever happened.”
Peter was getting sick to death of that fucking password.
“I already told Angela,” he said, furious. “It’s Pebbles-thirty-two, capital P.”
“You told Angela?” his uncle demanded, pulling over and turning around to glare at him. “When?”
“Earlier today,” Peter stuttered, nervous in the face of his uncle’s wrath. “She came by the coffee shop on my lunch break.”
His uncle’s face twisted with rage. “That bitch!”
Peter felt a well of satisfaction mixed with his apprehension. If Angela had fucked over his uncle, he was only too happy to sit back and enjoy the show.
“What was the password again?” Peter’s uncle fumbled for his phone, typing furiously.
“Pebbles-thirty-two, with a capital P.” He looked out the window. They were on a deserted road in the warehouse district south of the city center.
“Fuck!” Peter’s uncle threw the phone down onto the seat next to him, slamming his fist down on the steering wheel and making it honk like crazy. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
“Not so fun being screwed over, is it?” Peter taunted.
He was completely unprepared for his uncle to reach back and backhand him across the face. His head rocked to the side, the pain sharp and unexpected, his uncle repeating the blow on his other cheek.
He cried out in pain, hunching down to get away from his uncle’s fists.
“Your alpha is rich,” his uncle said, looking at him with a manic glint in his eye. His hand was clenched like the next blow would be a punch rather than a smack. Peter slid over to the other side of the car, pressing the button for both the lock and the window and getting no response. His uncle reached over and grabbing his arm, making him cry out, pulling him back to the middle seat and holding him there.
“Not that rich,” Peter hedged, terrified. He was so stupid. His uncle’s betrayal should have taught him that his uncle wasn’t the man he’d thought he was. Peter didn’t knowwhathe was capable of.
“He was wearing an eight-thousand-dollar suit and a two-hundred-thousand-dollar watch,” his uncle growled, squeezing his arm tighter. “He’s fucking rich.”
