Page 52 of Knot a Tie
“Actually, I’m here for Rayne. She wants to see you. Will you get in?”
That hits him right where it hurts. The flash of pain in his eyes is palpable. He straightens up and starts walking again. “Not interested,” he growls.
I set off again at a crawl. “Richard.”
“I said fuck off,” he snaps. “I’m not interested in going back to the pack.”
“Forget about the pack,” I say patiently, ignoring his repeated attempts to get rid of me. I’m as stubborn as a mule, and I’m not going anywhere. “Come back for Rayne.”
I watch as his face scrunches up. “No. I can’t. Leave me alone.”
“She needs you. She needs to see for herself that you’re okay. Five minutes and then you can leave.”
“Do you think I’m fucking stupid? As soon as I get there, James will tie me up and keep me.”
“Is that so bad when Rayne wants you there?”
“She’s still with you.”
His flat statement belies the torment on his battered face.
“She is still in danger. She is safe with us. You know that.”
“I can’t go there.”
“Not even for her?”
“Especially not for her.”
“You’re being a selfish dick,” I comment, trying to rile him up enough to justify my next action.
His furious gaze pins mine as he bends down again to glare at me. “And what do you know about it?”
“I know that I’ve asked you to come back for Rayne and you won’t. You bit her, and she is feeling your absence. Now, I’ve tried to be nice about this, but this is how it’s going to go down. You are going to get in this car under your own steam, or I’m going to pull up, and stuff you into the boot.”
“Please,” he scoffs.
“Have you seen the size of me?”
That gives him pause. He stops and glares at me again. I stop the car. “The boot is tiny, but I will make you fit if it kills me.”
“You’re a fucking bellend, you know that, mate.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Jesus, does nothing faze you?”
“Not this. Rayne wants you, if you think I’m letting you go, you have another thing coming. I promise you, I will make James let you go if that’s what you want, but you are coming back with me one way or the other.”
His anger turns to desperation. “I’m no good for her. She should forget all about me.”
“She can’t while she has your bite.”
“Fuck,” he growls. “Fuck.” He looks back over his shoulder, as if he’s expecting someone to be there. He leans down again and looks through the open window. “You don’t understand, I really can’t go.”
“Right,” I say, undoing my seatbelt and opening the car door. “You leave me no choice.”
I march around to the boot and open it, then I storm over and grab the alpha who is darting away, but is slow and injured and easy to snatch.
