Page 56 of Kings of Sherwood

I grunt. “Getting caught’s not the issue.” When Rob cocks a look at me—dumbass rich boy—I sigh. “You ever work construction? Of course not,” I answer for him. “Shit goes missing on your watch and it’s out of your paycheck. Or job.”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah.” Rob bobs his head up and down, scratching his temple. “Fair enough. These guys aren’t the ones to blame.” He gestures down at the ant-like hard hats we can just make out in the valley. Stares a minute. “Ugly fucking buildings,” he mutters.

“Amen to that.”

He breathes out. “Okay. You good?”

“I’ve seen what I need to.”

“Then let’s turn tail.”

The run back is clean. Our territory. Deer paths and tree markings somehow easier to see with an animal’s eyes. The lights of the house are almost alien as we come up the back way, to the gate by the range. But then I shift back and things settle in again.

Humans have houses. And this one’s mine.

I’m pulling on my jeans and boots in the lean-to when Rob darts in after. He shifts, exhales, and rolls his shoulders.

“Fairy lights are new.” He nods up at the back patio, where a string of winking lights hangs from column to column.

I squint. That’ll be Maren, all right. “Bet she’s in a mood.”

We take off across the grass, toward the pool and the sounds of human voices.

“Hope it’s a good one,” he offers.

I don’t answer. Because we’ve reached the house, and...

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

I don’t say it out loud. Rob doesn’t even fucking notice I’ve stopped walking.

Because he looks happy about it.

“Zayn?” he says. “Damn, is that you?”

He walks forward, grabs the guy’s hand and shakes, slaps him on the back.

Me, not so much. I take the last few steps slower. The kind of slow that keeps me from making any moves I regret.

The sliding door opens before I can reach for it—Will. Pink shirt, front half unbuttoned so he can show off his waxed pecs, bringing some beers out from inside. He catches my drift pretty damn quick—sees where I’m staring.

“Hold up.” He presses a hand to my chest, which makes me want to rip it off his arm. “Before you go nuclear. Two seconds.”

I push his hand away. But take the beer it’s holding. “You’ve got one.” I crack the top and stare at his shirt. “Are you wearing pink?”

“It’s salmon.”

“Salmon is pink,” I mutter. “I’m a bear. I would fuckin’ know.”

“LJ.” Will gives me a flat look. “Don’t change the subject. I know he’s here. We ran into him—me and Maren. And I told him I was out of line. I apologized.”

“Bullshit you did.”

“I know, I know.” He scrubs a hand through his hair. “I meant what I said when he first showed up. But...he did bring her back. He didn’t have to.”

“He also set her up for a fucking car bomb,” I spit out. “Like a sitting duck.”

Will winces but doesn’t push. “Yeah, I...look, I’m not saying you have to like him, LJ. I’m kinda...neutral to middling onthe guy myself. But we don’t exactly have an overabundance of allies, okay? So just...play nice, buddy.”

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