Page 18 of Wrecker

One more minute, and I’d have been buried in her.

Whoever was on the other side of that door was about five seconds from being gutted.

I gritted my teeth and gently lowered Peyton to the floor. Her legs were unsteady, her lips kiss-swollen, and her eyes glazed.Then I stalked over to the door and yanked it open, already scowling.

Deviant stood there, brows raised, holding a brown paper bag that smelled like bacon and cinnamon. “You ignoring your phone on purpose, or just forgot how it works?"

“Busy,” I growled.

Deviant snorted. "Sure. Busy being balls-deep or tongue-tied between thighs you’re planning to keep.”

My eyes narrowed, my frustration growing. “Alice send you because she’s lookin’ to host a funeral?”

I was about to shut the door in his face when he slapped a hand on the hard surface to keep it open.

“Here for Fox,” he muttered. Then held up the bag he was carrying. “But Alice told me to bring you this. She said you were both probably starving. And also that, and I quote, ‘If you don’t want Wrecker to become a feral bastard, feed him something besides adrenaline and bad decisions.’ Like I’m the fuckin’ breakfast fairy now.”

“Guess you finally found your calling, princess,” I grunted, snatching the bag from his hand.

Deviant smirked, completely unfazed. “Keep fuckin’ around, Wrecker, and you’ll be eating through a straw.”

“Get fucked.”

“Already did.” His amused grin faded to a serious look. “Fox called a meeting. And before you ask—yeah, he means now. Don’t make him come drag your ass out.”

“Gimme a fucking minute,” I snarled.

“Try not to rip anyone’s face off on the way down.” He tossed the last word over his shoulder as he started down the hall.

“Depends on who’s in my fucking way,” I grunted, slamming the door shut.

When I turned back around, Peyton was still leaning against the wall, chest heaving and her lashes lowered like she was trying to process what the hell just happened.

I didn’t let her see the frustration bleeding out of me as I walked back to her. I just brushed a kiss over her mouth and lifted her onto the bed. "Rest, baby. I’ll be back soon."

She nodded, dazed.

I hated leaving her. But I wasn’t about to keep Fox waiting. Still, I left the room with fury simmering just beneath the surface.

When I stalked into my prez’s office, he was seated behind his desk, eyes sharp as ever. Maverick leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face. Most of our other officers and a few enforcers were scattered throughout the room, tension lacing the air.

Hawk, Storm, Midnight, and Nevada were seated at the round conference table.

"’Bout fuckin’ time," Whiskey grunted. “Thought maybe you’d gotten swallowed whole.”

“Still might,” I muttered, dropping into the seat beside him.

Nevada smirked. “So I’m guessin’ you forgot how to work your phone cause your face was buried and your brain shot to hell.”

“You got a death wish?” I asked, voice low. “Or just bored of breathing?”

Viper barked a laugh. "You wanna keep all your teeth, Nevada, I’d shut the fuck up.”

I nodded at him, sprawled on the old couch in the sitting area. Inferno and Racer took up the overstuffed chairs across from it.

Fox cleared his throat. "Enough. We’ve got business."

The jokes stopped, just like that. When Fox spoke, everyone listened.

---