Page 24 of Fight or Fly

In a role reversal from the past several days, Kam and I committed to ensuring that the others were fed and actually got some sleep. Flynn and Jax in particular were still recovering from four solid days of mating and guarding the nest during my heat. Alphas were tough, but that kind of thing took a toll. I figured the least we could do was pamper them a little.

Flynn acquired a sketchy looking Chrysler LeBaron, its hood and left front fender an entirely different color from the rest of the car.

“Frame’s a bit twisted,” he said. “It pulls to the right a little at highway speeds.”

“So do I these days,” Jax grumbled, accepting the keys.

Kam had unearthed the promised collection of license plates from a closet upstairs. He went outside to mount them on the Franken-Chrysler, lending the car a tissue-thin facade of legality.

With fresh supplies laid in and the transportation issue solved, Alex and Flynn wasted no time in packing their clothing and weapons—eager to depart before the trail grew any colder than it already was.

I stood in the entryway of the house, my arms crossed tightly, trying not to succumb to the sense of impending doom that threatened to swallow me whole. For a few short days, everything had been perfect. I’d known going in that it wasn’t the kind of perfection that could last—not for people like us. And I’dstillbeen suckered in.

A new purpose in life.

A pack of misfit alphas devoted to my pleasure, and to Kam’s.

It was too perfect—not the way real life worked.

“C’mere,” Flynn said, and reeled me in. He had his travel bag slung over one broad shoulder. I let myself be reeled, desperate for a final taste of his overpoweringalphaness. He held me against his hard-muscled chest and kissed the top of my head.

“Be nice to Jax while we’re gone,” he rumbled against my temple. “He’s gonna be climbing the walls. Guess you probably will be, too.”

“Probably,” I agreed.

“You know, fucking is really good for stress relief,” he said conversationally. “Just throwing that out there.”

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks—a ridiculous reaction, given the events of the past week.

“For god’ssake, Flynn,” Alex said, saving me the necessity of a reply.

Flynn shrugged, and let me go when I regained enough self-control to pull away. He reached for Kam next, taking him by the chin and rubbing a thumb possessively across his full lower lip. Kam drew in a sharp little breath.

“Be good until we get back, Ginger Tea,” Flynn said. “Or don’t—it’s usually more fun that way. See you in a few days.”

“Stay out of trouble, asshole,” Jax said. “Good hunting, Alex.”

Alex gave him a short nod, clearly not one for lengthy goodbyes. Her catlike green eyes played over us, her gaze catching momentarily on Kam before she jerked it away.

“Au revoir,” she said, and led Flynn out the front door.

We watched as the pair climbed into the Jeep. The engine turned over, and the vehicle headed away, leaving the Chrysler sitting alone and looking vaguely forlorn in the overgrown circle drive.

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