Page 42 of To Hunt A Wolf
“Damn, girl.” Tripp studies the damage I’ve done to myself. “You kicked your own ass.”
“And his.” I smirk at Levi, and Tripp tries and fails to keep from laughing.
“She’s got you there,” Tripp tells him.
“Lucky shot,” Levi grumbles, trying to look recovered even though I’m sure it still hurts. After all, it’s only been three years since I last had my hands on the goods, and that’s not something a girl forgets. Not that I’ve fully experienced it, but our make-out sessions came close enough and—
“I think I saw a pack of peas in the freezer,” Tripp says.
I shake off the urge to daydream about the size of Levi’s dick. Right now, he’s being one, and that’s what matters.
“Does someone want to explain to me what the alpha-heir is doing in a retired living community on the edge of mafia territory?” I ask. “Or why he isn’t currently taking his rightful place among our pack?”
“Not particularly,” Levi says.
This time, I do actually manage to glare. “I think you owe me an explanation.”
“Hey, you’re the one who crashed our party,” Tripp says to me. “You don’t just get to demand answers too.”
“He has a point,” Jadick says, but he looks like he’s enjoying all the banter more than he wants to be a hardass about anything. “Maybe you could start with an explanation of your own,” he says to me. “Tell us what you’re doing here, and maybe we’ll do the same.”
“Yeah.” Tripp crosses his arms. “I, for one, would love to hear that story. And where’s Vicki?”
“Oh, you mean the babysitter you called for me and then dipped out because you’re too chickenshit to tell me you called my mother on me?”
“Uh-oh,” Tripp says, and his smirk vanishes.
“I am going to kick your ass for that,” I tell him.
Before he can offer an apology—or claim temporary insanity—there’s a knock at the front door.
No, a pounding.
A fist bangs against the steel door so hard it shakes the entire apartment.
We all fall silent. Judging from the wide-eyed stares the guys are giving one another, they have no idea who it is. My stomach tightens because there’s a very good chance I brought this trouble with me.
“Mackenzie Quinn,” an unfamiliar voice shouts from outside.
Dammit.
Make that a one hundred percent chance.
“Any idea who that is?” Levi asks me.
“Umm, possibly the mafia?”
His expression darkens.
I wince.
The voice calls out again. “Come out, or we’re coming in. We don’t want trouble,” the man adds, and I can’t help but roll my eyes at that.
Riiight.
Because banging violently on a front door just screamspeace and love.
“You led the mafia to our doorstep?” Tripp hisses. “While we’re housing a fugitive? Are you insane?”
