He leans over with a groan and retrieves the charger from the wall, trying his best to wind it up into a messy ball.
“I want you to move your shit back into the house so I can keep an eye on you.” It takes him three tries to get the charger stuffed in his front pocket. “I’m late for work,” he mutters.
“You’re not selling my heat!” The words fire out of me, and I back up ten feet, like I had just lobbed a grenade into the middle of the living room. Papa just laughs.
“I will do whatever I fucking want with you.” He straightens his jacket and runs his fingers through his greasy hair. “I’m late for work. Don’t test me, Lynn.”
He rips the door open and slams it behind him. I race to the window and crouch down next to it, peeling the blinds back just enough that I can watch him get in the car and pull out of the driveway.
“Oh shit, what did I do?” My head is so fucked up, I didn’t realize I shouldn’t come back here. I am a stupid little omega. I fumble with my phone as I watch Papa get in the car and adjust the mirror. I pull up Estelle’s number.
I hear the car start, and I peek out again and watch Papa pull back out of the driveway, leaving the gate unlocked. My eyes are glued to him ashe drives down the street.
Ash:
I fucked up. Long story. Can you pick me up? I accidentally went home
Immediately, I see the three little dots appear.
Estelle:
Accidentally?
Whatever
I’m coming
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.” I curl myself into a ball and wrap the hoodie over my knees. I sink down and hug myself, burying my nose behind the collar of the hoodie. It smells like a freshly laundered snickerdoodle. I focus on that rather than all the other bullshit that just happened while I wait for Estelle.
I rest my head on my knees but then my eyes pop wide.
His wallet.
Papa left his wallet on the coffee table. He’ll come back. Any second. He’ll remember and come back.
Lights beam across the living room as a car turns into the drive. I peek out the window. It’s a black SUV. I bolt for the door and run as hard as I can in my borrowed shoes.
“GO! GO! GO!” I shout as I jump into the passenger seat, and I don’t take a full breath until we’re almost at Tia’s.
Chapter forty-seven
LIAM
Iturnoffof8th and park in the lot next to Mama’s. The restaurant is dark, except for the neon sign, but the lot is half-full. It’s past midnight, but just because the lights are dead doesn’t mean business is.
I had to stop twice on the way over here to do some box breathing and reel my thoughts back in. I take a second now to organize everything in my head. I’ll freak out emotionally later, maybe.
No, I’m totally going to freak out later.
The second I have a plan in place, the guilt will tear me to pieces. But I need to go get that plan.
Beckett is in love with Ash. Fuck, I probably am too. Pierce is her scent match. Randal is blackmailing us. I now know where Randal lives.
And Ash—or Lynn, whatever—has suffered close to a decade of abuse and worse at the hands ofRandal Voss.
I can’t know for sure right now if she’s a part of Randal’s plan. It’s too fucking convenient. Ash is not dumb, but it would be 007 level spy shit to infiltrate our pack and blackmail us. She’s never gone after Beckett’s money. But she had to know who we were the second she met us. She might not be working with Randal, so maybe there’s something else at play?
I step out of the Charger and shut the door softly. The beep of the alarm seems extra loud.
