Page 174 of Alphas Like Us
After the umpteenth doorbell ring and urgent knock, I start walking down the narrow hall. Towards a sky-blue door with a chalkboard sign that sayswelcomeinGreek.
Farrow jogs to catch me, his inked fingers in my waistband. Pulling me back. “Wait, wolf scout.” He gives me a hard look that sayswe’re not doing this shitagain.
Again.
Nate.
Mystalker.
It’s why he’s overly cautious. Why he hasn’t bombarded the front door himself. And I can see it eating at him, having to grip onto a cell instead of agun.
I stand like I’m ready for whatever hell exists on the other side. A war, a hurricane, I can handle it. “Bruno is at least fifteen minutes away. If that is my family, I need to answer itnow.”
Farrow speaks into the phone while staring right at me. His gaze says,I’m with you; don’t go alone.“We’re fine. Someone’s at the door,” he tells security. “We’d just like a couple guys out here. Yeah, thanks.” He hangs up and then nods to the door. “I’m goingfirst.”
He’s already passing me, his stride long andfast.
I’m right by hisside.
“Stay behind me,” Farrowinstructs.
I don’t remind him that he’s not my bodyguard. He still has the experience from training and being on-duty for years. But putting Farrow in danger—it’s never been as easy as putting myself in harm’s way. He’d say the exactsame.
So I don’t slip behind him. I stay by his side. He has no time to call me stubborn, another fist raps thedoor.
Farrow puts his hand on the knob. “Who is it?!” he yells, his voice commanding and threatening all at once. My pulse poundshard.
Silence ekes out the other end, and that…yeah, that sends my bloodcold.
Farrow hisses at me, “Back up. I’m not messing aroundanymore.”
I glower. “You don’t even have a canister of pepper spray.” I reach for my knife on my ankle—I don’t have a fucking tactical knife on me. Or a switchblade. I feel more unprepared. And I’m not even positive what I’m supposed to be preparingfor.
Farrow extends his arm over my chest. Keeping me a foot or two behind him. “I don’t need a weapon,” he whispers lowly. “You’re safe; I’ll be safe. Just stay back. Or this door stays closed until Bruno gets here. And I know neither of us will likethat.”
I hang onto the part where he says he’ll besafe.
Alright.
Alright.
I don’t push forward. As he cracks the door open, Farrow has the view. I only see the sky-blue painted wood, which blocks the person from mysight.
I watch my boyfriend’s expression change from territorial protectiveness to outright anger. He tries to swing the door closed onthem.
That person sticks their foot in the crevice. A nice leather loafer jams the dooropen.
“Move your motherfucking foot,” Farrow sneers. “Or I will breakit.”
“I havephotos!”
What.
Blood drains out of my head. And I don’t recognize that urgent male voice. Farrow must though, and he’s one second from shoving his weight into the door and breaking that guy’sfoot.
“Nude photos!” the guy shouts. “Of both ofyou!”
Bullshit.
