“Is that why they targeted my dad?” Morgan asks quietly, and we all turn to look at him. “Did they drug him, fucking torture him, all because our house was in the right location?” Anger flows off him, filling the room. I don’t blame him, but we’re all on edge as it is, clinging to the last shreds of our control. His rage has the potential to set this room on fire.
“Yes,” I say, facing him. “It’s a shit reason, and I’m so fucking sorry these cunts messed up your life, but I need you to focus and tell us everything you can about the layout of your house.”
He looks like he wants to punch me, and I’d let him if it eased some of the hurt and the anger, but then his shoulders deflate. I’d rather have the fucking rage.
Callum and Flint make notes while Morgan gives a detailed description of the layout of his old house and the garden surrounding it. I can see why they picked it, makes perfect sense. No close neighbours. Easy access to both shifter MC’s and town. But why? What do they hope to accomplish by having a permanent base here?
“What are you going to do with all that?” Morgan points to the detailed drawing Cal’s done of the ground and first floor of the house.
“I don’t know yet.”
His eyes widen. “You’re not going to try and break in, are you?”
I shrug, not sure if he’s concerned for me, them, or his old house. “I don’t have a fucking clue.Yet. But we need to have as much information as we can get before we come up with a plan.”
We need to talk to Nico.
I don’t like the idea of dragging him in here—he’s been through enough shit to last a lifetime—but we don’t have a choice. “Jet, go fetch Nico.”
“No.” He doesn’t raise his voice, but the quiet way he says it packs more of a punch.
I could order him to do it, make him. But I’ve never been that type of alpha, and I won’t let fuckinghunterspush me into it now. Jet needs careful handling, not being hit over the head with alpha power.
I set my forearms on the table and meet stubborn green eyes that have no intention of backing down.
Fucking hell, Jet.
I take a moment to breathe in and out, making sure I have all my frustration, my anger locked down tight. I can’t afford to mess this up. “I know what Nico’s been through. I know it’s the last thing he’ll want to talk about or remember. I fuckingknowthat.” Jet’s expression softens the tiniest of fractions. I’ll takethat. “But we can’t wait for him to get comfortable with it. If hunters are involved in the fight rings, we need to know as much as fucking possible, because this changeseverything.”
My words hit their mark.
Doesn’t make me feel any better about it, but Nico is the best lead we have right now. The only lead.
Jet doesn’t say anything, but he gets up and storms out, slamming the door behind him. I groan, but it is what it is.
“Did you tell Fox my name?” Morgan asks, breaking the silence.
“What?”
“He called me by my name when he questioned me. I assumed you’d told him.”
“No.” I curse under my breath. Should’ve picked up on that. “I didn’t tell him anything.”
He slumps in his seat. “D’you think they knew I was here all along? That maybe I’m the reason they came here and not that they know you’re the ones targeting the fight rings.”
“It’s possible,” I concede. “But it doesn’t matter either way. We’ve got to assume the worst, so we’re prepared.”
“Matters to me,” he says quietly. “Maybe it’s not just the Feral Beasts I need to watch out for now the hunters know where I am.”
“Fuck!”I snarl, because he’s right. And the hunters are so much worse. FBs we can handle, we can fucking fight if we need to, and there’s no way they’d dare set foot on our compound. But Fox? He doesn’t even need an invitation, and he holds all the cards. Without solid proof, no other hunter groups will believe he’s involved with illegal shifter fight rings.
It’ll be our word against his, and it doesn’t matter how much things have improved over the years. Hunters will always protect their own.
The truth hits me like a silver-edged blade. Sharp and nasty.
I can’t keep Morgan safe.
Not if he stays here.
