I nodded slowly. “I guess.”
Why did it feel like involving the police would only piss an Alpha like Tank off though?
51
ADAM
The restraining orderseemed to work—until it didn’t.
A few weeks went by. No texts or harassing phone calls. No piss marks on our front lawn. No haunting late night motorcycle drive-bys.
It was too much for me to hope that Tank had actually given up. I was still on edge, my wolf growling at the back of my mind. It felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for the big bad wolf to come barreling out of the dark woods to snatch Fletcher away from me.
And Fletcher, he’d been exceptionally devoted to me since this whole mess started. I felt bad for being so distant, but my mind was a war zone. Still, he never once left my side. He crawled into my arms every night, and I held him until the pounding of my heart slowed enough that I could finally close my eyes.
“What do you think about going out for dinner tonight?” I mused aloud.
We’d not really gone out and done anything frivolous for ourselves in weeks. The closest we’d come to “going to dinner”was drive-thru takeout and coming back home to eat in the safety of our home before the food went cold.
Fletcher’s eyes lit up, but there was a guardedness about him that made me ache. He was my beautiful sunshine boy, and I hated Tank for dimming his light.
“Could we? I’m really craving chicken Alfredo and garlic breadsticks.” As if on cue, his stomach gave a rumble. He giggled and covered it with one hand. “Shh.”
I grinned. “What about Kissinger’s? I think I saw something in the paper about a dinner special they’re running.”
“Ooh, they’re so good. Let’s do it! Let me get changed.” He hopped up off the couch and scurried off down the hall. I shook my head, watching him go with a fond smile.
I loved him, so damn much. I couldn’t imagine my life without him now that he’d inhabited my heart for so long. How had I ever thought I could follow in my father’s footsteps and marry someone of his choosing when my heart belonged to this red-headed lynx?
Kissinger’s was busy, typical of a Friday evening, but after a short wait, we were seated and our orders were taken.
Fletcher and I enjoyed the ambience—the low amber glow of the backlighting, the sparkle of the small chandeliers hanging pendulous from the ceiling, the soft murmur of voices and clinks of silver against china.
We shared a basket of breadsticks and cheese sauce while waiting for our Alfredo. The bread practically melted in your mouth. Fletcher hummed happily, his eyes crescents of mirth.
Our dinner plates came piping hot, heaped full of what was definitely more than a serving of creamy Alfredo pasta, topped with grilled chicken. The waitress grated fresh parmesan over our meals and told us to enjoy, and we were left to do just that.
It was the best damn Alfredo I’d ever had—and I grew up with expensive taste.
Interspersed between hums of pleasure, Fletcher and I talked about a little bit of everything. He spoke about buying a car of his own now that he had his license, so we didn’t have to share my BMW. About maybe getting a little part-time job so he wasn’t stuck at home all day, because he wanted to contribute to the household, despite me having enough money for everything.
Everything about it just made me love him more.
After dinner, too full for dessert, we left the restaurant and walked hand in hand through the busy parking lot, to where we’d left our car—and immediately, my wolf snarled a warning as the sharp bite of licorice touched my nose.
No.
Tank was there, looking as deadly beautiful as ever in jeans and a black leather jacket. He leaned against my car with a smirk on his face.
A glint of metal drew my gaze to the knife in his hand—and to my car’s tires, which had been slashed.
Bastard…
“I told you you couldn’t get rid of me that easily,” he drawled, flipping his head to chase inky bangs from his eyes. “You got the cops involved. Nice job, buddy, but you only slowed down the inevitable.”
I gripped Fletcher’s hand tighter, pulling him to a stop, then stepped in front of him.
“Leave us alone, Tank. I’m warning you,” I growled.
