“And nothing.”
By now, Alder was only a few inches from his youngest offspring. “Do you really think,” he whispered, “that your precious Uncle Van will keep running to your rescue, boy? You’re not a pup anymore.”
“No. I’m not. And that’s why I’m telling you to get the hell out of my restaurant.”
His father smiled, seeing some opening that Ric was unaware of. Mind scrambling, Ric tried to figure out what he could have missed, what he could have said that gave the bastard a way in for the kill. While he did, he prepared himself for the blow. Not a physical one. That he could handle and if it came, it would be from his brother. No. This would not be physical, but it would do much worse damage.
“Listen to me, Ulrich,” his father said, still smiling, “I—”
The door swung open, slamming into the back of Alder’s head and pushing him into Ric’s arms.
“Ric, you in here? We need to talk, supermodel.”
Dee-Ann stepped into the room, her eyes catching sight of Wendell. “Are you supposed to be in here?” she demanded.
“Are you?” Wendell shot back.
“Yeah.”
The comeback was so calm and simple that Wendell had absolutely no response. It was amazing.
“Dee-Ann?”
She looked around the door. “There you are.”
Ric helped his father back to a standing position. Not because he wanted to, but because he wanted the man out of his arms.
“You remember my father?” Ric asked.
Dee looked at the door and at the older wolf glowering at her. “Oh.” She looked at the door again. Then Ric’s father. “Oh, Lord.”
Although Dee didn’t like Ric’s father, she still didn’t want to go beating him up with doors. That was rude and her momma would expect more from her. Especially when Dee was sleeping with the man’s son.
“Mr. Van Holtz, I’m very—”
Before she could finish her apology, the wolf stormed past her, practically shoving her into the door she’d battered him with.
She leaned out into the hallway, calling after him, “I’m real sorry. I can assure you it was an accident.”
“Like your birth?”
That came from Wen-dell—she always made sure to enunciate the last part of his name since it seemed to piss him off so much. But as she turned to tell him exactly what she thought of his birth, she saw that there was no point. Because she didn’t have the chance.
Ric had reached out and caught his brother by the throat with his left hand, yanking him forward, and took hold of Wendell’s arm with his right, pulling it back. “Apologize,” Ric told him, looking more pissed off than Dee had ever seen him. Even the time he threw that zebra hoof at her—long story—he didn’t look that angry.
“Fuck yo—”
Ric unleashed his claws, burying them in his brother’s throat, blood dripping over his hand and onto the floor. “Apologize,” the wolf told his brother calmly. “And do it nicely.”
“Sorry!” Wendell managed to get out. Then Ric shoved him forward and right into the hallway. The wolf slammed into the opposite wall, his head leaving a dent in the drywall.
“Get out of my restaurant,” Ric told him, his voice even, not raised at all. “You can return when you’ve learned some manners.”
Ric turned away and walked toward the desk. So he missed his brother unleashing his own claws and coming for him from behind like some untrustworthy feline. But Dee silently stepped in front of Wendell, her bowie knife out. She waved it once and softly said, “Uh-uh.”
The worthless wolf pulled back. Maybe he was willing to take his brother on, but not her. Then again, Dee was doing him a favor. This pissed off, Ric would tear the idiot’s throat out, but that wouldn’t sit right with him. He’d never forgive himself and Dee wasn’t going to have that.
She motioned Wendell away with a tilt of her head. He went, shoving aside the crew members who’d come into the hall to watch Ric slap him around. Nope. Wendell wouldn’t be forgiving this bit of embarrassment anytime soon.
Hearing Ric moving behind her, she quickly slid her blade back in its sheath and turned.
He was just facing her. “Sorry about that,” he said and she had to laugh.
“Darlin’, that’s Thanksgiving dinner over at my Uncle Bubba’s house.”
“I know you need to talk to me, but can you give me five minutes?”
“Sure.” She started to step out but he walked past her and into the hallway. She went back into the office, rested her butt on the desk, and waited.
Arden got the quick scoop from her Aunt Adelle, who’d heard it from the sous-chef, who’d gotten it from the garde-manger, who’d seen it himself! And Arden had to say she was entertained and immensely proud of her cousin! Mostly because as much as she adored Ric, she loathed her cousin Wendell in equal parts. He was more weasel than wolf, in her opinion.
Tragically, she couldn’t stay around and gossip more about the whole thing. She had to get to class unless she wanted to spend her life showing people their tables and taking complaints. Although it was a great way for a twenty-year-old to make sixty grand a year, get her tuition for her Ivy League tech school paid in full, and have flexible hours, so she wouldn’t bitch about it too much.
She charged around a corner, her arm reaching out to hail a cab, when someone caught her and yanked her back.
“Hey!” she screeched, ready to fight like a full-human first, then unleash claws if necessary. But it wasn’t anything to be worried about. Just Wendell.
“If this is about Ric—” she began, trying not to giggle at the claw marks on his neck.
“I don’t give a shit about him. I want to know about Stein.”
“What about him?”
“Why is he back?”
“I don’t know.” She tried to walk off, but Wendell yanked her back again. “Hey! Get off me!”
“Then answer my question.”
“Why do you think? He owes money to somebody.”
“From Vegas?”
“Atlantic City. There. Happy now?”
“Ecstatic.” He pushed her away. “Let me know when you grow tits, cuz. Maybe I’ll hook you up with one of my boys then.”
“Like you actually have friends, dickwad.” Then Arden caught her cab and headed to class.
CHAPTER 15
When Ric wasn’t back in five minutes, Dee went looking for him. She actually had somewhere to be and she was only giving him a heads-up on what she, Malone, and Desiree were doing.
Dee stuck her head in the kitchen. “Where’s Ric?” she asked the room.
“In the alley,” one of the cooks told her.
Dee headed to the door that led to the alley and stepped outside. Ric was at the far end of the alley where it was blocked off by a brick wall that was attached to the restaurant and the deli next door. He had his back to her, his body hunched over.
Dee moved up silently behind him, curious to see what he was doing all huddled into a corner like that. When she stood right behind him, she went up on her toes a bit and peeked over his shoulder. A brow went up and she relaxed back to the flat feet she was born with—and waited. Because she knew she wouldn’t have to wait too long.
Ric froze, knowing she was right behind him. Knowing she was watching him do what he hadn’t done in two and a half years. But after those six months of patches and nicotine-tinged chewing gum until he’d gone cold turkey for two years—Ric was right back where he’d been.