Page 30 of Cruel Revenge
“Smart,” I said, chuckling. I didn’t bother with makeup or nice clothes. I wore what I wore nearly every day. I wasn’t going to be anything but myself for this. I wasn’t going to try to be like Courtney to compete with her on that level. Not even the excuse of this being a fancy dinner was going to make me even try. Carey wanted me, Jacky Leon, here, and I wasn’t going to try being anything other than that.
Once Carey was done, she undid her seatbelt.
“Want to go inside? I think we beat her here.”
I nodded, reaching down to turn on my wire.
“Can you four hear me?” I asked. The werewolves parked only a few spaces from us.
“Loud and clear,” Benjamin said, sounding younger through the earpiece. I felt bad. He was the youngest teen there, but he had gone through the training. This was good practice for the harder stuff. And since he was mostly homeschooled, he had time for the work. Heath would have never trained Benjamin if he thought it would interfere with the young man’s future or if Benjamin didn’t want it at his age. Benjamin had asked for this.
“Benjamin, how is class going?”
“I’m a straight-A student, so good,” he answered. “Why? Is this the time for that?”
“I’m just curious.”
“She feels bad that you’re here,” Carey said loudly, the mic definitely picking her up. “It’s all over her face.”
I turned a glare in her direction, only to be greeted with a grin.
“Oh. Well… don’t. Heath pays really well. It’s good spending money, and like, the pack has done a lot for me, and I’m old enough to have a job, and this was the job I wanted.”
“Okay.”
“You’d make a good Alpha if you were a werewolf,” Kody said.
“I’ll take that compliment. We’re going in now. Everyone, get into position.”
As Carey and I unloaded, I could see them do the same. Arlo, Stacy, and Kody looked like the youngest members of the Secret Service to ever exist. None of them looked particularly intimidating to me, but I knew their ages. Others would probably pause before messing with them based on how they carried themselves.
Carey grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the restaurant. One of the staff opened the door for us.
“Jacky Leon and Carey Everson. We have reservations,” I informed the young man.
“We’ve set up the two tables as requested. The open area near the windows and door, so you can see outside if anything happens.”
“Thank you.” I could see the tables. One had two seats, and the other had one. They were about ten feet apart, easy for me to cross if Courtney had any ideas. Close enough that I wouldn’t have to strain at all to hear the conversation or smell anything suspicious.
Carey and I took our seats after we pulled our jackets off. Carey delicately hung hers nicely on the back of her chair, whileI threw mine on the table where I would be sitting alone. I was pleased with the spot I picked. I made sure to have us position it so I could see everything between Carey and Courtney, so nothing would be out of sight. No secret guns under the table or passed notes. I would see it all.
I’m glad I’m marrying someone who doesn’t find this paranoid.
Ten minutes later and two check-ins from the werewolves, the woman of the hour arrived.
“She’s here,” Stacy said over comms.
Courtney Lane was just as tall, maybe even an inch taller than Carey, but it was hard to tell since she wore heels, giving her another potential three inches. She was dolled up, wearing a perfectly pressed suit with pants. She didn’t thank the young man who held the door open for her, instead looking directly at Carey, her eyes going wide at the sight of her nearly grown daughter. I could smell her surprise, her nerves, but I noticed the lack of love. She didn’t love her own daughter at first sight.
It pissed me off, and she hadn’t opened her mouth yet.
“Carey,” she said, walking quickly, only to stutter to a stop when she realized I was sitting in the room as well. “Oh… you must be…”
“Hi…” Carey said, standing up slowly. “Yeah, I asked Jacky to be here with us, just for… you know, support for me.”
“I just thought we’d have dinner alone. You didn’t mention that we’d have a… chaperone. I haven’t had one of those since I was your age.” She studied me as she spoke, and the smell of her displeasure and disgust with my presence was thick. She didn’t like me on sight.
That was fine. I hated her already. I probably hated her since the moment I learned she abandoned her daughter, which was years ago.
