Page 140 of Nest of Thieves
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Vette pulls into the deserted parking lot and parks next to a silver Mercedes. I squeeze my thighs together, checking to make sure the knife is still strapped tight around my leg. I’m wearing a knee-length black dress and braided my hair since there wasn’t enough time to blow dry it after my shower. I skipped makeup—I’m not trying to woo the guy—and opted for Converse instead of heels.
All the better to run in.
“Ready?” Mac asks. “It’s not too late to back out.”
“No. This has to be done.” I reach for the door handle. “Whatever happens, I want you all to know how much the past few weeks have meant to me. I never thought I’d find the right pack for me.”
“You’re ours, mami. We won’t let anything happen to you.”
I want to believe them. I want to trust that our bond is stronger than their ties to their boss, but it’s so new. Mate bonds are soul deep, though. That has to count for something.
“Let’s go.” I climb out, and they follow me toward the side door.
Lark pulls in front of me and opens the door. A beefy man steps in front of the entrance and stares him down. “Orc.”
The beast of a guy grunts in reply. “Arms out.”
“Seriously?” Lark does as he asks, anyway.
“Can never be too careful.” Orc’s voice is gravelly, and he pats Lark down.
Mac and Vette step in front of me to go first. Vette doesn’t say a word, but when Orc’s hand runs up Mac’s leg, my crazy alpha tsks.
“Careful, sweetheart. You might get me hard.”
Orc shoots him a death glare and finishes up. “Now, her.” He points his thick finger in my direction.
“Touch her and you die,” Mac purrs. “She’s ours.”
Arching an eyebrow, Orc scoffs. “Try to kill me, if you want. Everyone gets searched today.”
“Not. Her,” Vette growls.
“She didn’t bring a weapon,” Lark says, trying to reason with Orc.
None of them know about the knife.
“You can leave. No one goes in until sugar tits is searched.”
Mac grabs for him, but I lunge forward, snatching his arm before it closes around Orc’s throat.
“It’s okay. He can search me.” I hold my arms out and look at the alphas. “I have to see him.”
I know the only reason they let Orc begin patting me down is because of what’s at stake. He starts at my torso, all business as he runs his hands over me. His hands reach for my legs, and three vicious growls cut through the air.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Lark says.
Orc’s face darkens.
Fuck.
I thought maybe he’d let searching under my dress go, but if anything, he only seems more determined now. Orc doesn’t like my pack. I don’t fucking like Orc.
“Here,” I say, stepping back and lifting the skirt up until it’s just covering my underwear.
Orc eyes the knife.
