Jackson crossed the remaining feet, keeping Andy away from her. He reached out with his free hand and wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her against his side. Lowering his head, he breathed into her ear, his soft exhale caressing the shell.
“How much do you want to know?” When she tried to speak, he interrupted, “Think about the question before you answer. Make sure you’re ready to go there.”
It was like jumping without a safety net. He’d answer her questions even if she didn’t want to hear certain things. She’d be going in blind but would surface wiser for it. Whatever was happening was important. If the pack was coming, she didn’t want to be a weak link. She wanted to be an equal. She’d been honest when she said worrying about what was to come wouldn’t help her. It would only delay the inevitable.
Turning her head so her lips brushed his jaw, she replied softly, a sharp edge of anticipation spiking through her, “Everything. I want to know everything.”
Chapter Eight
Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it.
So damn true.
Chloe listened as the pack spoke, trying to pretend she was comfortable in their presence, soaking in what she’d learned. Jackson knew her father. Apparently he’d known who her father was from the moment they’d met, since she looked exactly like the asshole. The truth clarified a lot of things, but it didn’t totally alleviate her tension.
Not when Jackson hadn’t had all the answers to her subsequent questions.
Although he was certain Gavin Worthington had gotten her mother pregnant, he didn’t know the circumstances involved. It was bizarre. She’d never given her father any consideration really, aside from loathing him for what he’d done to her mother. Fantasies of meeting the bastard had never come to mind. She wasn’t a child who needed a parent. Her grandparents had seen to that.
Now though, armed with the truth, she had to admit she was slightly curious. She wanted to know where she came from.
A woman who’d arrived with an imposing male stared at her. Chloe hurried to remember the female’s name, recalling Jackson had introduced her as Heather. She wasn’t sure if he’d been honest about the size of his pack. From what she could see, he wasn’t short on numbers. There were seventeen in all. Twelve were mated couples. The remaining five were single males.
After a quick introduction she’d settled into the chair Jackson had provided for her. The couples had been welcoming, greeting her with warm smiles. The men had given her polite nods and curious stares but otherwise they hadn’t seemed impressed. Even so, things had gone well. They might not like her, but they didn’t hate her. There were no fights or arguments, only questions Jackson was quick to answer.
So far, so good.
“Chloe?” Jackson’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “What do you think?”
Lifting her head to stare at him, she blinked several times. She hadn’t been listening. Therefore she didn’t know how to answer. She didn’t want everyone to think she was slow on the uptake. One small misstep and she’d look like an ass.
Shit.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” It was a horrible response to any question but she hoped her input sufficed.
Jackson cocked a brow, a small grin tugging at his lips. “I’m not sure,” he said, informing her that he’d known she hadn’t been paying attention. “Your grandfather wants to put a bullet in Gavin’s ass. If the two of them come face-to-face, I have a feeling things will get nasty.”
She felt the blood drain from her face.
Apparently when she’d been lost in her thoughts, the group had decided it was best to involve the man who’d raised her.
If Gramps met the man who’d destroyed his only child, he would want revenge. Jackson had briefly indicated such a meeting might be necessary to cement their mating to the packs in the area but she was hoping to avoid it. Surely her biological parent couldn’t try to influence her life now.
“That’s an understatement and you know it. Gramps will kill him.”
“All the more reason to do it,” Declan interjected, flexing his arms as he leaned forward in his chair, making his tattoos stretch. “The old man was your protector. He sheltered you, fed you and cared for you. He has the final say in your mating. Gavin can’t do shit about that. He’s fucked.”
“I don’t want him in danger.” Gramps was wily but he was old. He was in no condition to take on anyone—much less a werewolf. Not that it mattered. She’d already decided she’d give Gavin a piece of her mind if he ever tried to dictate what would happen in her future.
“He won’t be.” The conviction in Jackson’s retort eased some of her tension. “As the man who raised you he’s entitled to confront anyone he believes has endangered you.”
“I hardly classify any of this as endangerment.”
Abandonment? Sure. Endangerment? That was a stretch.
Jackson’s eyes shifted color, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “If you hadn’t found me,” he growled, “you’d be singing a very different tune, Chloe girl.”
“So you keep telling me,” she growled right back, finding her temper operating on a hair trigger. “Maybe if you repeat yourself a few more times the message will stick.”
The energy in the room shifted and she gazed up. Everyone was watching the exchange with a mixture of curiosity and humor. The mated males especially, as though they’d been waiting a long time for that very moment. Usually she didn’t like being the center of attention but since she was already the elephant in the room she figured she might as well speak her mind.
“If you declare her as your mate during the hunt no one can question it,” a big male—Clint, she remembered—said to Jackson, getting the conversation back on track. “If her protector puts his seal on the match in front of local Alphas it’s a done deal. No fuss, no muss.”
The woman next to him—his mate Elsie—grasped Clint’s arm. “But he’s human.” She shot a quick glance at Chloe. “The law…”
“Doesn’t matter,” Jackson finished after a moment. “Fletcher Bryant has earned the right to speak. No one will question that. If they do they’ll risk the fury of the pack. As a member of my mate’s family he’s entitled to our protection.”
“Gavin won’t like it,” Elsie murmured.
“Who gives a fuck what Gavin likes?” Declan snarled, his teasing nature evaporating. “He’s a pompous ass who needs to be taken down a few notches.”
“Declan,” Clint growled. “That’s my female you’re talking to.”
Declan’s lips quirked, forming into a sarcastic smirk. “My most humble apology, Elsie, for offending your gentle sensibilities.”
“Asshole,” Elsie sneered. Clint gave Declan a glare that promised payback.
Chloe glanced at the small window above the sofa, noting the sky had become dark. It was almost nighttime. The moon would rise soon. Relentless sexual energy returned, making her keenly aware of her body.
Cut it out. Now isn’t the time.
“What do we do about our guest in the basement?” One of the single males in the pack—Shane—asked, bringing her back to the present. “If you let Andy go he’ll tell his Alpha everything. If you don’t Gavin will come sniffing around for his missing snitch.”
Chloe tried not to stare like she had when they were introduced. Shane only had one tattoo—a full sleeve—but it wasn’t the ink that made her edgy. It was the lethal and potent power that surrounded him. If she didn’t know better she’d think the man was born to be a leader, not a follower.