“Why should I?”
“Kid like that, makes fire, worth fifty grand,” the man hissed.
“Oh? Who’s paying?” Doc asked, sounding very calm.
“I’m not telling unless you give me the baby. We’ll split it, 50-50.”
Ottis felt sick. Doc didn’t seem to feel the same way. Or at least, he didn’t react the same way.
The alpha took another step closer, towering over the man. “Who’s paying?”
And his hand shot out, grabbing the man around the throat.
“I’m not asking twice,” Doc growled, lifting the man off his feet. “Where would I find these buyers?”
“I’m not telling you!” The man’s throat bulged. He lashed out, suddenly, his hand growing long and thin, skin turning dark as his fingers stretched into the branches of a tree, shooting dangerous spikes at Doc’s eyes.
Doc swore and flung him aside, leaping away before the spikes could connect.
Instead of lunging after Doc, the man began scanning the parking lot.
For Marcie, Ottis realized.
His heart hammering, Ottis kept as still as he could—because movement was easier to spot.
But the man didn’t give up. He reached up with his tree branch hand and stretched his twig fingers thinner, until they swayed like tendrils tasting the air.
The man snapped his head in Ottis’ direction.
Fuck!
Before Ottis could move, Doc grabbed the man and punched him in the face. His next punch knocked the man out cold.
“Sweetheart,” Doc growled. “Get in the car. Ride shotgun.”
He fished out his key and unlocked the car. Ottis scrambled, half-expecting the man to get up and attack Doc again.
He threw himself and Marcie into the front passenger seat just as Doc jogged over.
“Open up a bag from the glove box,” Doc said.
Ottis popped open the glove box and grabbed a resealable bag. The next thing he knew, Doc was sliding behind the wheel, thrusting a phone at him.
“Don’t touch it. Straight into the bag.”
The phone went into the bag, and Ottis zipped it up. Doc grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer and squirted it all over his hands. Then he started the car.
With a screech of tires, they tore out of the parking lot, leaving the man lying on the asphalt.
“Jinks,” Doc said as though Hijinks was in the car with them. “Ottis and I are leaving first. I’ll get a friend to pick you up.”
Ottis stared at Doc’s large hands on the steering wheel. “Do you need help with that?”
“It’ll be nice if you could, yes,” Doc said, cocking his hip. “Grab my phone.”
Ottis got his hand on Doc’s jeans pocket just as Doc took a sharp right turn. The momentum threw Ottis sideways, his hand sliding from the phone straight onto Doc’s bulge.
“Um,” he said.
