Page 118 of Their Knotty Pack
Hunter is already shaking his head. "We can't use illegal recordings as evidence in court."
"You wouldn't have to. You could find out what their next move is before they make it and catch them in the act. Or find out exactly who is running this whole thing."
Hunter is thinking. I can tell, because his jaw ticks, and the corner of his eye wrinkles slightly. "It's not a bad idea…"
"Of course it's not," Damien says behind me, "look at who thought of it."
"I could do it." The words burst out of me, desperate to atone for the fact that I played a part, however unknowing, in these women's kidnappings.
"No," Damien sputters at the same time Hunter's gaze turns hard and he says, "Absolutely not."
"But—"
"No, Bethany." I've never heard Hunter's voice as harsh as it is right now. "No way. You realize we just got a restraining order approved? Even if Iwantedto let you go, which, again,absolutely fucking not, they would see right through you."
"You're not—"
He talks over me again, and Damien doesn't even try to stop him. "I'm not what? Willing to putmyomega in danger? Correct. Not stupid enough to sendmyomega back to her abusive ex-pack all wrapped up in a pretty little bow? Again, correct." He's so close to me now that our chests brush, his pupils nothing but black voids. "I may not have physically claimed you yet, Bethany Thomas, but make no mistake, you aremine." He growls the word, sending goosebumps along my flesh. "And it'll be a cold day in hell before I willingly endanger what. Is. Mine." His chest heaves with each punctuated word, his nose only inches from mine, and I find myself frozen in place. Something about the possession in his voice, the claiming of his words…warmth curls low in my belly, and Hunter's nostrils flare for a moment before he shakes his head, his pupils returning back to normal.
Well, mostly.
"Get her home," he grits out to Damien, who immediately nods, standing and guiding me out the door.
Damien drives me home, his hand on my thigh, but all I can do is look out the window and wonder just how many women I've helped condemn.
Chapter 46
Kieran
Chompy could use some cheering up.
It's been a few days since Damien brought her home from the station, in an almost catatonic state. She went straight to bed and Damien told Miles, Brody, and I all about what they learned from Bethany tonight.
She's blaming herself for something she has no control over, and I won't stand for it.
So I took a day off, went to the lumber store, and got to work.
Five hours later I'm sweating in the backyard, table-saw off to the side, and am finishing up staining the wood.
She'll love this.
A set of floating bookshelves, with holes cut out of the wood so she can set some of her plants inside. Like bookends.
"Well, I never thought I had a woodworker fantasy before now." I grin at the sound of Miles' voice coming from the deck, and I turn, pulling the hem of my shirt up to wipe the sweat from my face. He groans at the sight of my abs, and to be honest, I did it on purpose.
He's wearing this polo that pulls tight over the muscles of his pecs, his glasses hanging off the collar. His shoulder bag is still on his shoulder, meaning he just got home from work. Usually he showers right away, so I'm surprised he came out here first.
But then his eyes aren't on me anymore, they're on the shelves I've just spent hours laboring over. His jaw drops. "Kieran…she's going to love that." He comes down the steps and stands next to me. He's shorter than me by a few inches, and more lean than my bulky muscles.
Pride fills my chest, and damn if I don't blush a little. "You think?" I ask, rubbing the back of my neck.
"You're cute when you're bashful," Miles grins, elbowing me.
"Oh? What about when I'mnotbashful?" I arch a brow at him.
"Then you're a mix between broody-hot and sarcastic-hot."
"Broody? I don't brood." The corner of my mouth fights with me, trying so hard to tilt up.
