Page 40 of Pack Coffey

I look at each of my pack surrounding me in support and almost break down into tears. "Thank you for coming."

Henry squeezes the thigh that Lawrence isn't. "You're not alone anymore, love. We've got you."

Banks reaches back and grabs a menu from the same table that he stole the chair from, glancing down at it and back up at us. "What? Might as well eat while we're here, yeah?"

And just like that, he gives us exactly what we need. A good laugh.

Chapter Fourteen

It's been a few days since the lunch date disaster with my parents. I haven't called them and probably won't for a while. It's one thing to attack me, but the fact that she was trying every way possible to find fault in themandturn them against me with what she said should always be our little secret. I don't know at what point she lost her mind, but it's happened. Maybe at the same time she had to accept that her son is a serial killer.

I've been staying at the pack house, having abandoned my tiny home for the time being since the current killer hasn't been caught yet. The girl he kidnapped last time still hasn't been found, and she's been in my thoughts daily. I want to try to help her in any way possible. The best way that I know how is my podcast. Unfortunately, I left my microphone at the tiny house.

Knowing I'm breaking the rules, I decide to not wait the hour for Lawrence to get out of class. I'm just going to swing by the tiny house to grab a few things and get back over here before he notices that I'm missing. Hopping in my car, I make the couple minute drive over to the house, humming along with the music. As I pull into the driveway, I see that everything looks the same as it always has. Nothing is out of place, and there's no one hiding in the bushes.

Releasing a small sigh, I don't bother turning my car off as I make a quick dash inside. Grabbing up my microphone and some clothes, I stuff them in one of my duffel bags. I'm headed back to the door when I hear the crunch of the gravel in the driveway. My stomach drops into my butt, knowing I'm busted and am about to be in serious trouble.

I prepare to beg for forgiveness when I open the door and see that it's not any of my pack's cars. A familiar brown head of hair steps out, and walks up to the edge of the porch.

"Morton?" I ask. "What are you doing here?"

He smiles, and the sight unsettles me. "You quit comingto the cafe. I was worried about you. Especially after I saw you out drunk with that pack. I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay."

"Yeah," I tell him, ready to escape this conversation. "I'm good. Just packing some clothes to stay with a friend for a couple days."

"That friend?" he asks, pointing at the mark on my neck.

There's barely half a second where my body can't choose fight or flight. As quick as possible, I step back, moving to slam the door so that I can lock it between us. He catches it before it can swing shut, shoving it hard. So hard that it's enough to force me backwards onto my back on the floor. My phone slips out of my pocket and slides across the fake hardwood. I make a scramble for it, but he's quicker, snatching it up and waggling a finger in front of my face.

"Nuh uh uh," he says. "Can't have you calling in the calvary just yet. Especially before I give you your surprise. I'm going to tell you this once and once only. If you move before I get back, you will be the cause of someone's death."

I feel like I'm going to be sick. As much as I want to take off running the moment the door closes behind him, what if he's got one of my pack out there. I look around for anything that I can use as a weapon. There's a knife block on the counter, but it won't do me any good. I can already hear his and someone else's feet on the gravel coming back. If I move to get it, he might kill them. When the door swings back open, he forces a young girl inside to her knees before he closes the door behind him and locks it.

"Now, let's get this party started," he says, brandishing a huge knife.

The girl is the one that's been missing. She looks worse for wear with bruises all over her and too weak to stand, but at least she's breathing.

Glancing up to Morton, I use my Dylan voice on him, calm and collected. "What do you want with me, Morton?"

He props his ass on my tiny breakfast table and gives the knife a whirl. "Technically, I don't want anything with you, Levine. I want you to do something for someone I used to love."

"What's that?" I ask, slowly sitting up.

"Don't get any ideas," he says, walking over to the girl and kicking her in the stomach. "I wasn't kidding. I will kill her right here in front of you if you don't do what I say."

"Why don't you let her go?" I suggest. "I'll do whatever you want, and you'll still have me."

He's already shaking his head before I finish. "Nope. I know you, Levine. I've had plenty of time to study you. You are compassionate to a fault. You care more for others than you do yourself. How many sleepless nights have you had staying up late to do your podcasts?"

Theonlyway he could know that is if he's been spying on me through my windows. I've never once told anyone that I stayed up late making them.

"See," he says. "I know you."

"Tell me what I can do," I say again. "I'll do anything."

He laughs. "You're damn right you will. Since I can't get to your brother, trust me, I've tried, you're just going to have to do. I'm going to give you back your phone, and you're going to go on a first ever live podcast to tell a story that's super close to you. Your brother's. My sisters."

My throat clogs as my stomach revolts. "Who was your sister, Morton?"

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