Page 56 of Gather the Storm

But the worst part had been Wolf. After our earlier closeness in the truck, the wariness in his gaze stung. Our make-out sesh made it clear he wanted me as much as I wanted him, but now he distrusted me as much as I distrusted him too.

And I couldn’t blame him. Couldn’t blame any of them.

I had no idea how anyone knew I was plotting to figure out what had happened the night of Blake’s murder. I hadn’t told anyone, not even Cassie and Sarai, who believed I’d invited the Beasts to help me with the house out of some misguided sense of responsibility after their confession cleared me of suspicion in Blake’s murder.

But someone had obviously found out.

It was bad. Like, really bad.

I’d been counting on digging in relative obscurity, quietly snooping until I found clues about what had happened the night of Blake’s murder.

Now that was impossible. Someone was watching me, knew I’d invited the guys to live with me for the purpose of finding out what had happened to Blake. Otis had installed the new security system, but that only accounted for the house.

What about when I went to work or into town?

A cold shiver ran up my spine as I remembered the feeling I’d had when I’d gone to work my first day at Cantwell. I’d felt paranoid at the time, but now I couldn’t help wondering if someone really had been watching me.

I was suddenly extra glad the guys were staying with me. Paradox aside — would someone be threatening me if I’d steered clear of the Beasts? — the thought of sleeping alone in the house at the top of the falls after receiving the package was prime horror movie material.

I watched the guys move back toward the house, their heads ducked, deep in conversation. A few minutes later they barreled up the stairs, their footsteps heavy as they went into their rooms.

I heard Wolf’s shower start up in the room next to mine (I suspected there was little to no insulation between the walls, something that was on my list of things to fix) and sat on my bed.

They were planning something. I didn’t know what it was, but something was clearly in motion: the private conversation at the back of the property, the intentional march indoors, like they’d been given orders from a commanding officer.

They were going somewhere. That was my guess anyway.

It made sense. They’d been as shocked as I was to realize someone had entered the house. And true, we had no idea when that someone had been on the property — maybe it was before we’d officially moved in — but it was still creepy.

And there had been something else in Wolf and Otis’ eyes when we’d discovered the note.

Something like worry. Maybe even fear.

I wanted to think it was because they cared about me, because they liked me (we’ve already established that I was pathetic when it came to Blake’s best friends) but I suspected it had more to do with the little sister thing: Blake wasn’t here anymore and they felt obligated to look out for me.

Although to be fair, obligation wasn’t exactly what came to mind when I remembered Wolf’s hard dick between my thighs in the truck.

Anyway, whether because they gave a shit or because they just wanted to do their duty, they were worried, and that meant they’d want information.

And you didn’t get information about Blackwell Falls — real information, not the carefully orchestrated kind — on social media.

I hurried to my closet and went to work.

It was dark by the time I crept down the back staircase and let myself out the front door. The new alarm beeped when I disarmed it with the code Otis had given me, but there was no way around that.

The guys should be about ready by now anyway, convinced they were going to leave me alone in the house for the night, assuming it was safe thanks to the alarm.

I looked at the cars in the driveway — plus Jace’s bike — and made a guess that they’d take Benji since it was the bigger of the two cars.

I was leaning against the passenger side window when they emerged from the house, Jace in front.

He stalked toward me, his dumb gorgeous face drawn in a stormy scowl as Wolf and Otis followed. Their gazes raked mybody as they approached, and from the look in their eyes, I must have chosen my attire well.

Jace’s gaze snagged on the cleavage under my silky low-cut tank while Wolf and Otis let their eyes travel the length of my body, all the way down my legs — encased in black jeans that were a size too tight because Jace was a dick — and down to my heeled boots, which were actually kind of hot.

I tried to draw in a breath, preparing for the confrontation ahead, but then I got a whiff of man soap and cologne and something that must have been pheromones because holy shit it went straight to my cunt.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jace demanded, stopping a few inches away from me.

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