Page 111 of His Forsaken Alpha

After the short trip up one flight, he made his way to the stairs at the end of the hallway and raced down—and then slammed out of the emergency exit onto the street. A bellman was more than happy to hail him a taxi, even with the alarms sounding all over the hotel. He heard Marlo and Gregory calling his name as he slipped into the backseat.

“Move it! Fast!” Cav told the cabbie.

“Huh?”

“I’ll pay you fiftyrenosto floor it,” Cav said.

The cabbie frowned, but shrugged, and took off before Marlo could knock on the window. Cav gave the man the address on the piece of paper once they were safely away from the hotel.

“What’re you running from?” The cabbie asked, peeking in the rearview.

“Runningto,”Cav corrected.

“Hey… you’re that author, aren’t ya?” the cabbie asked. “I saw something on the news this morning about you and that you’d had to cancel your signing today. I know my brother-in-law is gotta be hella mad.”

“I’ll sign something for him. Make up for it,” Cav mumbled. “How’s that?”

“I probably got something up here you can sign. Hey, even better, I’ve got a story for you.”

“Oh?”Cav asked, inwardly rolling his eyes. Everywhere he went, folks claimed their life story was the most interesting he’d ever hear, and he’d want to write it.

“I’ve lived a wild ride, my friend. It would make for a bestseller, I’m sure of it.”

Cav scoffed and listened for a good few minutes to an uninteresting story until thoughts of Wynter distracted him. He replayed everything that had transpired between them, searching for clues that Wynter had been telling the truth outside the bookstore. He remembered nothing that said it was. He’d seen nothing but love in his omega’s eyes.

He was sure of it.

Thirty minutes later, he was sitting in front of a massive set of iron gates with no way inside. A newspaper and pen were thrust his way.

“Best I got.”

Cav frowned. “What?”

“The autograph. For my brother-in-law.”

“Right, right,” Cav said. He scribbled his name across the top banner, in the white space, and handed both back. “How much do I owe you?”

“You gonna write my life story? I might make this ride on the house, if so.”

Cav forced a smile. “If I can find room in my schedule.”

The driver scowled, clearly understanding it wasn’t going to happen. “Don’t know what you’re missing. It’ll be twenty-eight-fifty.”

Cav handed over two twenties. “Thanks. The rest is for you.”

“Big spender. Must be nice being the famous author,” the cabbie said. “You know, maybe I’ll write my own life story and you can see how wrong you were.”

“I hope Iwaswrong,” Cav murmured as he got out. “Good luck.”

“You’ll see,” the cabbie yelled out the window before roaring off.

Cav sighed. He’d neglected to ask the man to stay, but then, it wasn’t as if he needed another witness to his coming humiliation. He strode closer to the wrought iron gates that stood sentry two-hundred feet in front of a massive mansion and well-manicured lawn. A call box stood to one side just outside it. While he knew he likely shouldn’t, he pressed the Call button before he thought better of it.

“Hello?”

“Wilder Cavanaugh to see Wynter Jaymes, please.”

“Hold on,” the disembodied voice said, the crackle of the box quieting.

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