“So, for the sake of clarification, are you speaking to me or King with that tone in your voice?” I ask, dropping onto the side of sickly sweet which has his mood sinking further.
“Tristan!” Maverick barks impatiently.
I bristle even more. Maybe it’s the leftover wavering emotions of my heat, and no doubt it’s because we’re all so new, but it hurts when he barks at me. It stings like little ants biting when he does it. Of course, King buts in again.
“For the record… Maverick, don’t yell at my queen ever-a-fucking again. Or this knife will be so far inside your body no one will find the handle.”
Maverick continues staring at me and ignoring King. And at the same time his body vibrates in his anger. EverythingI thought I knew about him is a lie as his sweet happy-go-lucky persona drains away. And I get it’s because I’ve only seen his other side, even when he was in the cage, he was not so brutal and savage. Except it’s so sudden and unexpected that I’m questioning how I missed this side of him. Of course, it’s at that exact time the stupid fucking trauma voice in my head after Troy gaslighted me so bad starts to feed my doubts making my confidence plunge as I recoil away from him. God, even I can scent how anxious I am, my bubble-gum scent laced with shame and doubt.
Maverick responds in an instant, his soft gentle hands rubbing over my legs in his attempt to soothe and comfort. He closes his eyes as he does it and takes a series of slow deep breaths in and out, centring his reactions and locking away his turmoil. When he opens his eyes again, he is Maverick, the sweet, forthright guy who stood me up at breakfast.
“You’re right,” he says softer, pronouncing his words slower. “I shouldn’t speak like that to you. I was very much an asshole, and I’m sorry if I scared you, Tristan.”
He reaches out for my hand. I link our fingers and tug him close, accepting his apology, and his whispered explanation of his surging moods. “So, it seems I might have an issue with people hurting you. We need to probably avoid it from happening. But at the same time, I wouldn’t mind knowing who we’re talking about so I can deal with it Alpha to Alpha.”
King joins our private conversation. Again. “Nolan Bishop, his studio was previously on Rogers Boulevard down Lower East Side. But I burnt that one to the fucking ground. Now he’s trying to re-establish himself in The Hills, some swanky new studio too, but I think I might cruise past, instead of sending one of the boys. You up for a ride with me?”
“No!” I squeak.
“Count me in,” Maverick agrees without taking his eyes off mine. “I’m happy to take the lead on that one.”
“Let’s see how you do chopping veggies before we make big declarations about being able to take a lead or even be my little helper.” King laughs loudly before smiling to himself at Maverick trying to shimmy King’s knife out of his chopping board.
“May as well visit Nolan at the same time we go to see old Cunt-Lips Troy from School huh? Meet the folks even,” Maverick suggests innocently. And when he sees King’s light hearted amusement plummet replaced just as quickly as he did moments ago, he keeps winding King up. “Holy shit, you didn’t know? Wow, sorry, King. It must feel like you’re choking on a lump of barbed wire about now, your chest feeling like you’re having a heart attack or some shit because in your head you’re dissecting every conversation you’ve had with Tris, wondering if you missed a sign or not? Or you just gotta learn to lead in with the hard questions.”
King’s bourbon scent becomes so pronounced with his Alpha-hole side that I cough under the influence. The glare I get back from him would have scared me, but Mav gave the same one not that long ago himself, and now all that’s happening is King’s getting a taste of his own medicine.
But the big difference is, I know King and where we were joking, now we’re not. “Don’t pretend you don’t know the story. You were whispering in my ear how you’ll always do me good. Maverick just got a name out of me, but you got the story before anyone else. Including the Scorned Girls, well the full story anyway.”
I soothe his beast in a handful of carefully considered words, and gentle touches. King is also a better actor, so I’m slightly nervous by the way he pretends it’s fine. I know when it’s just ushe’ll chew my ass out for keeping a name from him, but at the same time I love the way he chews my ass.
Chapter
Forty-Four
TRISTAN
The weather breaks at about the same time Tyson lifts the casserole out of the oven. I was going to stir it, but four Alphas hissing at me when I bent down to pull it out of the oven had nothing to do with them staring at my ass, and everything to do with me not pulling the heavy pot out.
“You get I work out, right?” I tease over my shoulder, while Tyson holds the lid up, passing me the spoon.
But the three of them ignore my obvious sass instead talking louder about trying the door to see how snowed in we are.
“I know you do,” Tyson looks me up and down appreciatively. “And even though they know you’re more than capable, you’ve got us all tied up in knots. Anyway, look at me getting you all to myself.” Tyson puts the pot back in the oven before using the tea towel he was using to lasso around me and keep me near so he can kiss and scent me up.
Of course, he then steers me over to the pile of snow gear they found. I get a run-down of the signs of hyperthermia while he dresses in hoodies that smell like pack wrapped in oversized puffy jackets, fuzzy hats, and snow boots. It’s sweet but it also needs to stop. “Ty! I can dress myself. And you can let them all know that too.”
I stomp away, but he catches me again, bending me backwards so he can press another kiss on my lips, “All this is new. And yes, we know you are wildly independent and that’s a complete turn on but so is being able to care for you. We never had that, Tristan, and yeah, we probably will drive you crazy with wanting to do everything for you but that’s a pack. It also gives us a chance to keep the monsters at bay.”
Tyson gives me another kiss on the tip of my nose then rights me back to standing. And without asking, I know the monster they are all referring to is Rex. Which is a problem that is not going to go away on its own.
Long before we even put our dinner in the oven to slow cook, there was an agreement that the first part of today would be about us bonding with clothes on. Later, we’d sit down and figure out the huge plot holes in our story—like how to deal with Rex, my mystery stalker, and how we came out. Because as much as I wanted to run to Raney’s and tell the girls I was freshly packed, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that the problem with Rex was going to be much worse than first anticipated.
“Tris, get your butt over here,” Maverick calls from outside the window. But he’s not standing on the ground, he’s standing on a pile of snow.
“Holy shit! I’ve never seen so much snow,” I mumble to myself, of course though he hears it.
“It’s better out here. I’ll help you climb down and pass you over to Steel. King’s apparently teaching us how to shovel snow.” He laughs.
