Page 44 of To Keep A Wolf
Levi shakes his head. “So? We knew that would happen. The guy’s a fucking lunatic.”
“Yeah, well, he’s also not good at losing.” Tripp pins me with a stare that has me one hundred percent sure I’m going to hate whatever he says next. “The alpha house is in chaos. Apparently, dude’s on a rampage. He’s not going to stop until he’s tracked you down and has you back.”
“When you say ‘track me down’…”
“He’s sent a bounty hunter after you.”
“Which one?” Levi demands, and Tripp gives him a withering stare.
“I’ll give you five guesses, dipshit.”
I groan. “My mother.”
CHAPTER13
As the sun dips behind the swaying treetops, the three of us pile out of the van and once again approach the front door. The guys hang back a bit, letting me be the one to step up and knock. A second later, the door opens, and this time, I don’t lose my shit completely when I see my father standing before me. It’s still crazy. But I’ve adjusted well enough that I don’t panic. Outwardly, anyway.
My mouth is dry, though, and my palms are sweating for reasons that make me feel like a kid all over again.
“We’re back,” I say lamely, suddenly unsure how to proceed.
He glances past me and gives Levi and Tripp a quick once-over. “They’re not even bleeding,” he says, gaze returning to mine.
I shrug. “I’m not myself today.”
His lips twitch. “I have just the thing.”
He lets the door hang open invitingly and disappears inside. I follow, a strange sensation of comfort washing over me as I enter the cabin again, this time through the front door. The space is much the way I left it earlier. Except the kitchen counter now has a spread of cut vegetables that include all the makings of a salad.
“Here.” My father hands me a bowl, but instead of salad, I see rice and shredded meat with some kind of gravy poured over it.
Before I can think of a reason to refuse, he’s pushed the bowl into my hands and retreated to gather two more for Levi and Tripp. They take their servings with none of the hesitation I feel.
My father takes a seat at the table with a bowl of his own, motioning for us to join him. Tripp is already pulling out a chair. Levi hangs back with me. Quietly, he says, “It’s just dinner.”
Then he pushes past me and sets his bowl down in front of an empty chair. He sidesteps his own place setting, though, and instead, pulls out the remaining chair, looking expectantly at me. I take a deep breath that makes my stomach growl as the scent of the meal hits me.
I refused him earlier, but I’m way too hungry to do it again.
One foot in front of the other, I make my way over and sit.
We eat in silence for a few minutes, and the awkwardness is only overshadowed by my own nerves. From beneath my lowered lashes, I dart glances at the man seated across from me. A short, scruffy beard covers the lower half of his face. His sandy-blond hair is tousled as if he’s been running his hand through it since we last spoke. Short lines pinch at the corners of his eyes like he’s been concentrating hard on something and it’s left its mark.
Still, he eats with the casual confidence of someone who’s never had their food snatched away by bullies. Or been forced to abandon a meal in order to chase down a mark.
I remember his story from earlier. How he helped my mother avoid the hunting team Crigger sent after her all those years ago. How he killed several of them at once to protect me. That picture he painted was one of a lethal warrior. But there’s nothing warrior-like about him now. And I wonder if maybe that’s his real power; letting people underestimate him so he can push past their defenses.
I wonder if it’s mine too.
“Seconds?” he asks, yanking me from my thoughts, and I look over to see Tripp and Levi have already emptied their bowls.
“I wouldn’t refuse,” Tripp says, and my father waves him toward the kitchen.
“Help yourself. First round is provided by the host. Seconds are self-serve.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Tripp says, pushing back his chair.
Levi follows, winking at me as he goes.
