I certainly do. But I’m not telling you that.
“More like a lucky guess, but the name is familiar.” Smiling, he passed over the other drink. “Go ahead and take this. I’m on call tonight. If the boss finds out I’m slouching on the clock he’ll kick my ass.”
Shane thought the man said thanks but he couldn’t be certain.
In a few more minutes the pitiful male would be so sloshed it would take a wheelbarrow to roll him out the door. Thankfully Shane had supernatural strength and could carry him over his shoulder. It would create less of a scene. He wanted to get the loner good and drunk. Everyone in the bar—if they were inclined to care in the first place—could assume what they wanted.
That’s it, buddy. Almost there. Drink up.
“By the way,” Drunken Louse informed him matter-of-factly, “I don’t like this town. Everyone likes starting shit. And they’re always running their mouth about something. Blah, blah, blah. You listen long enough and you’ll know everybody’s secrets. I’m not like that, you know. I keep to myself.”
By offering up information to strangers for cash? I don’t think so. “I can see that.”
“It’s been a crummy fucking week, man.”
And it was only about to get crummier, not that Shane was sharing that information. A call to Jackson was definitely on the day’s menu. It was time to get cracking. Not knowing who had been responsible for Chloe’s attack made things difficult. They couldn’t reach out and ask questions if they didn’t know who they could trust. The pack needed a hard target and now they had one.
Simone Wilson just fucked with the wrong wolves.
With a bit of manipulation Simone could be fooled as easily as the shitfaced male across from him. She didn’t know the wolf that had attacked Chloe had been killed. Jackson made sure to keep that under wraps. They had to plant seeds, start the rumor mill churning. If she was afraid of exposure, Simone might slip up and reveal herself. With a bit of luck this would be over in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours.
“Hell, go ahead.” Shane gave the rogue the last drink. “You need it more than me.”
“I sure fucking do.”
Pawn takes queen. Rook takes king.
There was a glory in the game of chess, a thrill like none other.
Even if his opponent wasn’t up to snuff, he accepted victory.
Check fucking mate.
Chapter Six
“It can’t be that easy,” Declan said, peering across the room, keeping his mate in sight. “No one is that lucky.”
“Of course it can,” Shane drawled through the phone. “When I work it’s easy-peasy.”
Declan watched Rachel inspect the walls of his room at the tattoo shop. She leaned closer to the framed work above his station, studying his sketches. She’d calmed down as she’d promised, the paragon of control. He didn’t like it, his wolf warning him something was off. If the phone hadn’t shrilled and Shane’s name hadn’t blasted through speakers running through the parlor he wouldn’t have answered.
“You have him with you? Right now?”
“He’s totally inebriated and passed out in the back seat,” Shane replied. “I think he’d sleep through a natural disaster at this point.”
“And he said it was Simone?” The information came from a rogue but it was damning given the state of things. “You’re sure?”
“He did, and I wouldn’t call if I wasn’t.”
“What did you give him?” Declan still couldn’t believe it. Either Shane was a lucky fucking bastard or the clouds had finally parted and the water-deprived earth was finally getting much-needed rain. “Elephant tranqs?”
“I offered the man a few shots of whiskey, not that it matters.” Shane sounded annoyed. “You should know I’m taking him to ground. I tried to call Jackson but didn’t get an answer. I left a message. Once I get to the location my signal blows. He won’t be able to get in touch. You need to tell him what’s going on and stress the importance of him getting here. If we work this right we should be able to get down to business in the next day or two.”
“We just saw her,” Declan snarled quietly, seething at the memory. “Not even thirty minutes ago.”
“Who?”
“Simone,” he hissed, keeping his voice down. “She was in town acting like everything was totally fucking cool. She even started shit with Rachel.” He recalled how angry his mate had been, full of piss and vinegar. “It wasn’t good.”
“You have to hand it to her,” Shane said. “She’s got balls.”
Balls that are about to be clipped. “If I talk to Jackson I’ll tell him you’re trying to get in touch. Keep your phone outside the basement when you make it to the bunker. The signal is better and calls roll through.”
“Why are you at the shop? I thought you were on vacay.”
Declan didn’t like answering questions but he didn’t have a choice. “I needed my appointment book. I’m driving Rachel to her place before we drive back to mine.”
“Appointment book?” Shane hesitated. “Are you taking more time off?”
“Only a week or two.”
“What should I tell the pack?”
“I’m not sure.”
Declan kept his gaze on his female, trying to see into the future, wishing he had a crystal fucking ball. The pack knew he’d been preparing for a trip, they just didn’t know why he’d decided to cut and run all of a sudden. He hadn’t bothered telling them, stating he needed some time to himself. Eventually they’d want to know why he left so abruptly. Since he intended to return to his position as Beta, they had the right to ask questions.
“I’ll keep things cool if they ask about you,” Shane finally said. “I didn’t sign on to be a Beta long-term. When you decide on a course of action I need to know.”
“I’m working out the kinks. As soon as I do you’ll be the first to know.”
“Much appreciated.”
The line clicked off and Declan hung up the phone.
Son of a bitch.
On the way to the shop he’d tried to formulate a plan. Since he hadn’t known if Simone or Desiree had been responsible for the attack he hadn’t been sure if he could take Rachel home. He’d seriously considered asking for permission to skip town with his mate. Now he knew he didn’t have to. Simone was running around like a duck on the water because she thought she was safe. Maybe it was because she hadn’t been apprised of the crime. Or perhaps she truly was that simple-minded and arrogant.
Either way it didn’t matter.
He could take Rachel home.
She could transition to her new life surrounded by those who could support her.
With a sigh of relief he returned the phone to the receiver. “Just Rachel?”
“Stop calling me that,” she replied, keeping her back to him.
If he had his way he’d never stop calling her that. He loved seeing her cheeks turn pink, her eyes glossy when he referred to her as such. Although he wasn’t a sexual novice, romance had eluded him all his life. He wanted to peel his mate back layer by layer. Over time he was certain he’d get to her center and understand her as he was meant to.
He closed the distance between them, moving quietly. His muscles drew tight, his cock swelling to life. The last time she’d been in his area he’d put her pretty little ass in his chair and told her not to move. The punishment for doing so had been a sound spanking. Of course she hadn’t listened, making a run for it as soon as she’d had a chance. Back then he hadn’t understood why her absence had left him feeling so empty, unaware of her importance in his life.