Alpha Knight Page 17

  “Y-you do?”

  “Yeah, your aunt saved your dad’s letters to you, and we figured it out. Where are you?”

  My brain’s moving too slowly to understand what he’s saying. He figured it out? Where the gold is? I don’t know how that’s even possible, but hope—that dangerous winged creature in my chest—starts trying to fly.

  I’m also struck by the dangerous edge to his voice. I remember he uses anger to mask fear, and I can’t stop the tears of gratitude that leak from my eyes.

  Salvatore’s grin is pure evil. He takes the phone off speaker and walks away. “Where are you?”

  I can’t hear Bo’s answer beyond the muffled sound of his rough tones.

  “2915 N. 45th. There’s a warehouse there. Meet me in forty minutes,” Salvatore says. Satisfaction is written across his face.

  Forty minutes? Is Bo here? In Michigan? He must’ve come to get the gold. Or for me.

  This guy is beyond heroic. Beyond capable. Beyond anything I deserve or could ever ask for.

  And he did all this for me.

  Tears stream down my face.

  “Call the Russian and pick up the girl,” Salvatore says to Vinny and Tom. “He already paid for her.”

  “Wait!” Panic slams through me. “Aren’t you taking me along? To trade for the gold?”

  He leaves with another cluster of assholes dressed in suits and packing heat. The door slams.

  Fuck!

  I say a prayer on autoloop: please don’t kill Bo. Please don’t kill Bo. Please let us both get out of this alive.

  * * *

  Bo

  I have a hard time not shifting. All the adrenaline dumping into my bloodstream makes my wolf want to come out and tear throats.

  Soon.

  I have to keep my head for now, though. Have to get Sloane safe.

  I put the painting and gold bars in my backpack and start hoofing it to the meeting location, since I don’t have my own wheels. At first I think it’s the same location Sloane’s phone last registered before it went off, but it’s about a mile away.

  I don’t let myself think of the things that they might’ve done to her by now. If I do, I’ll shift and rip my clothes right off.

  I find the warehouse, but there’s no one around, so I lean my back against the cold metal wall to wait. Five minutes later, a souped-up Caddy shows up. The windows are tinted—probably bullet-proof windows. I can’t see if Sloane’s inside or not. The back door opens, and an older dude in a suit steps out. Two other guys come out and flank him.

  It was hard to tell, but when I looked in, I swear there was no one else in the car. I step closer, trying to scent her. Trying to see in.

  My gut tells me she’s not there, though.

  Fuck! I knew I should’ve gone to the address she last showed up instead of this stupid meet location.

  “Where’s Sloane?” I demand.

  “Show me the goods.”

  I unzip my backpack and show him the bars of gold and the painting. His eyes take on a greedy gleam that should’ve tipped me off to his next move, but I’m not worrying about him, I’m freaking about Sloane.

  “Where the fuck is Sloane?” I demand.

  The don pulls out a gun, points it at my chest and shoots. The impact throws me to my back.

  It’s everything I can do not to shift, but I resist the urge because right before he fired, I swear to fate, I heard one of Coach’s lectures ricocheting through my brain.

  Sometimes, in a fight, you gotta go down. Put your ego on ice and let them think you’re human like they are. Lose the personal fight. Take a win for the pack.

  So I stay down where I fell, praying he won’t come over and point that gun at my head to finish me.

  One of his guys scurries over to grab the bag, and then they’re gone. That fast.

  Not sticking around to make sure I’m dead or get rid of my body, or anything.

  Thank fuck.

  I count to five, and then I’m up on my feet, tearing my clothes off and stuffing them behind a dumpster to shift. I need to be in wolf form to heal faster and stop the bleeding. And to get to that other address.

  Please let her still be there.

  Please let her still be alive.

  I have zero hope they will let her go now that they have their shit. I have to find her.

  Wolves should not be seen in cities in broad daylight, but I don’t have time to worry about pack rules. All I can hope is that I’m moving fast enough that anyone who sees me will not be sure what they saw.

  When I get to the location I’d memorized, I’m rewarded with her scent.

  And then I see her.

  She’s being dragged to a running car by a slender blond guy with a gun to her ribs. There’s a sack over her head, but she’s walking on her own, and her hands are tied behind her back. I don’t see anyone in the car.

  So one guy. And a gun.

  I can handle this. But I have to wait until that gun muzzle moves away from my female. The asshole opens the trunk and shoves her in. I wait until he shuts the trunk and walks around to the driver’s side to let loose a snarl.

  He does a double take when he sees me, lifts his gun to point, then changes his mind and opens the car door instead.

  He’s too late. My front paws land on his shoulders, and he’s thrown back into the door. The gun falls to the ground. I have to hold back to keep from killing him—that instinct taking over so strongly it’s hard to even think straight. But getting Sloane out of here is the priority.

  And I have a getaway vehicle already running and waiting. So I sink my teeth into his shoulder as I knock him to the ground. Then I release him, making a show of growling and tearing his clothes like I’m rabid so he crab walks backward. A string of curses come out of his mouth in some language I don’t understand. Not Italian. Maybe Russian.

  I drive him further back, banking on the innate human fear of wolves to block any quick thinking on his part, and then I turn and launch myself into the driver’s seat. I shift as I land—my fingers already stretched out to shut the door, my foot on the gas. I duck to keep him from seeing my face or shooting us and I take off, praying he won’t have time to pick up his gun and fire into the trunk before we round the bend.

  I whip through the wide industrial streets at ninety miles an hour. I don’t see a tail, but I want to hide this car and get my girl out of the fucking trunk.

  And get my clothes.

  That thought makes me hang the next left and cruise right back to the place I got shot. I hide the car on the side of the warehouse and leap out.

  “Sloane,” I intone sharply, the second I hit the trunk opener and tumble out of the car.

  “Bo?” Her voice is incredulous.

  I yank the bag off her head and snap the ziptie around her wrists with one of my canines.

  “Oh my God! I heard something, but I didn’t know what the fuck was happening!” She scrambles up, and I get a look at her face, which sports a bruise the size of New Hampshire on one cheek.

  I snarl, almost shifting again, and she flinches.

  “Sorry,” I give my head a hard shake, like it will shake the aggression right out of me. “Your face—fuck.”

  She throws her arms around my neck in a strangulating hold. I squeeze her, too, lifting her feet off the ground and burying my face in her hair. “Bo.”

  She’s crying.

  I squeeze tighter.

  “I am madly in love with you.” Her words whoosh inside me and fill every crack and crevice. She releases me. “You got shot. And we gotta get you some clothes.”

  “Right here.” I grab my clothes from behind the dumpster and put them on.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything.” She’s crying again.

  I thumb away her tears, careful with the bruised side. “It’s ok. It’s okay, beautiful. You’re mine now.”

  She blinks those reddish-brown eyes at me and leans in, laying her head softly against my chest. It’s such a tender ges
ture. A soft, sweetness. So unlike what we’ve been with each other. I bookmark the moment because it feels like something important.

  The first time she’s really given herself to me. All of her.

  I put my arm around her and lead her away from the warehouse. Away from the place I almost lost her. “Come on. I have to show you something.”

  * * *

  Sloane

  It’s totally surreal. Bo and I are standing hand in hand in across from my old middle school in front of an EZ storage. He filled me in on his fantastical part of the story on the walk. Don Salvatore has his money. He doesn’t have me, but as far as he knows, someone kidnapped me in the back of car following a wolf attack. He had already sold me to the Russian anyway, so I don’t think he’ll come looking for me again.

  We figure we have a good chance of walking away from all this relatively unscathed.

  “Your dad wrote to tell you if anything happened to you, to check a storage unit in here.” Bo holds up my key ring—the one with the key to my bike lock. “The key was on here.”

  I shake my head. “Jesus. I had no idea.”

  He grins. “Yeah. Wanna see what else is in there?”

  The corners of her lips turn up—she sees my excitement. “Definitely.”

  Bo unlocks the unit. “He put this in your name, only misspelled, so the Feds never found it to seize these assets. Smart man.”

  My heart’s pounding. I’m guessing there’s more money in there, based on Bo’s excitement to show me. “What’s in there?” I bounce on the balls of my feet like a child. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been excited about anything. Not since my dad went to jail. But everything’s cracked open now. The old Sloane has been busted apart in so many ways, and it hurt like hell, but now there’s space. Space for the new me to emerge. Whoever she may be.

  Bo shows me what he found. A couple more paintings and a box full of gold bars. More than two dozen of them. My breath tumbles out of me in a hysterical laugh. “So that’s like...one and a half million dollars?”

  “Yeah. Looks like your college is paid for, after all.”

  I cover my mouth with my hand. “Oh my God.” My mind spins.

  But my dad was a crook. He cheated people out of their money. Dammit—I can’t keep it.

  Bo bumps me with his hip. “You can fucking keep it,” he says like he reads minds. “Some of his money had to be legit. At the very least, you should’ve gotten his life insurance policy, considering his suicide probably wasn’t actually suicide.”

  “Well, I can sure think about it,” I say. “What do we do with it now?”

  Bo grins. “I have no idea. You might have to steal us a car to get home because I took a one-way flight here and have no wheels. Or maybe we could cash one of those in and buy you a car. Yeah—let’s do that.”

  I throw myself at him again because it’s all so fantastical and fun. The possibilities are wide open. He holds me close, and I press my cheek to his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

  “Bo? You’re not going to wipe my memories are you?”

  His grip tightens on me. “Fuck, no. You’re mine. I’ll mark you if I have to prove it to them. No one’s fucking taking you from me again.”

  I have no idea what that means, but I trust Bo.

  If he says something, it’s real.

  He’s keeping me.

  It’s such a strange, foreign feeling. All my life I’ve felt like an imposition. Apologized for my existence.

  But now I’ve been claimed.

  Bo wants me. He’s keeping me.

  And as much as I pushed him away, as terrified as I was to let anyone under my defenses, I can’t resist him any more. Ever again.

  Because he’s mine, too.

  My wolf boy. My hero. My knight.

  Epilogue

  Bo

  The crowd in the parking lot after the game parts for me and the other alpha-holes. We just trounced Cave Hills, and I’m looking for Sloane. I saw her in the stands earlier, watching me, but I haven’t touched her in days. Not since we got back from Michigan, and I hunger for her like a starved man.

  “Hey Bo,” Austin says. “You riding with me to the mesa?”

  “Um, no, I’m good.” I don’t think I’m going to the mesa. I haven’t even introduced Sloane to the animals of Wolf Ridge High. And I’m not sure I’m ready. Because if anyone’s a dick to her—and there’s a good chance they could be, considering she’s from Cave Hills—I will fucking kill them. I also haven’t told my buddies she knows what we are. That’s a problem that still needs to be dealt with, although the alpha found out Bailey, Cole’s girlfriend knows, and she hasn’t been wiped. Of course she lives in Wolf Ridge, and her mom works at the brewery. Maybe they figure since she’s part of the community, it’s okay. Or maybe they’ll wipe her when she graduates—I don’t know.

  Austin’s little brother, Abe, steps closer, staring in the direction of the group of girls that includes Bailey. “I’m coming with you.”

  Austin scoffs. “The fuck you are.” The mesa hangout is for the in-crowd. The senior alpha-holes and whoever else we determine deserves to be in our presence. And it’s not usually underclassmen, even if they do play varsity.

  I’m guessing Abe’s sudden, bold interest is related to the other sophomore who’s been hanging with our group because she came as a package deal with Bailey—the runt, Rayne. The shifter who can’t shift.

  Huh.

  Wouldn’t have expected that one. Nobody’s paid that girl any interest since—ever. Funny how a newcomer can change someone’s status overnight.

  “Who are you looking for? Gone in Sixty Seconds?” Cole asks, noting my distraction.

  “Shut up. Don’t call her that.”

  “Is she here?” He follows my line of sight when the shock of recognition ripple through me. She’s impossible to miss—her beautiful head stands above the rest of the Cave Hills crowd.

  “Catch you guys later.” I veer off in her direction.

  I catch her waiting at her wheels. She bought a convertible BMW because the girl does have a penchant for a sweet ride. We traded a guy for a bar of gold in a private Craigslist sale and drove back to Arizona with the top down and the radio blasting.

  That was three days ago.

  Three days since I’ve had my hands on her luscious body.

  Three days since I’ve seen her in person.

  Although she has been blowing up my phone. We’ve texted until late in the night every night since we got back. There’s so much still to discover. To know about her.

  But I still have the memory-wipe thing hanging over my head, and I have to figure out what to do.

  I ignored Garrett’s calls until he threatened to call his dad—Alpha Green—if he didn’t hear from me. So I called and told him to fuck off.

  Nicer than that, though, because I do want to keep my balls.

  “Mark her or wipe her, those are your two options,” he ordered. “I’m not having a random in Cave Hills exposing both packs.”

  So now I have a hard-on a mile long thinking about marking her, which is like getting married for a wolf. Only more. Because once a wolf has marked his mate—it’s impossible to leave her. And I’m all in. I just have to make sure she is.

  “Hey, Legs,” I rumble, bumping her up against the Beamer and pinning her there with my hips, my arms caging her on either side.

  She twines her arms around my neck and beams up at me. I feel every megawatt of that smile in my chest. She radiates joy. Openness. Connection. I thought she was beautiful before, and that was when her walls were up. When she projected the Cave Hills Princess vibe. Now, she’s nothing short of breathtaking. Like a fucking goddess.

  And she’s all mine.

  At least, I want her to be.

  “Nice game, Muscles,” she purrs. “So, tell me something—do you guys have to pretend to drop the ball and let yourselves get tackled sometimes, just to make it look real?”

  “Sh
h.” I make a show of looking around and grin. “Yeah. The game to us is to see how exciting we can make it before we lose. Or win.”

  “Mmm, fun.” She squeezes my biceps and gives me bedroom eyes.

  “Christ, Sloane. You keep looking at me like that, you’re going to get fucked right up against this car,” I growl.

  “Is that the plan for tonight? You might still have to crawl in the window. Although Aunt Jen is crazy about you. You’re her hero, too.”

  My hips jerk against hers, grinding my throbbing erection into her belly. “Stop getting me so hard. We actually have to talk.”

  She raises her brows. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah, let’s go for a drive.” I open the driver’s side.

  Her lips purse into a smirk. “And I’m guessing you want to drive?”

  I grin and lean in for a slow kiss. “Always.” I pry the keys out of her hand while we mate mouths.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Let’s just drive.” I pull out of the mess of traffic and end up following my wolf’s call up to the mountain. He wants her so bad, I’m already getting primed to mark her. I pull off before we get to the mesa, where the Wolf Ridge kids like to build fires and drink beer on weekends. Then I turn off the car.

  “Is this your version of Blueberry Hill?”

  “Maybe. Listen, it’s about what you know. What I got ordered to do.”

  She stiffens. “You can’t wipe my memories, Bo.”

  I grab her hand and pull it to my chest. “I’m not. I won’t. But here’s the thing.” I pause, realizing my heart is pounding. Does she feel it? I draw in a breath. “Wolves claim their mates. For life. There’s a biology to it—a bite where we mark our mates’ skin with our scent to keep other males away. If I mark you, they’ll know you’re safe.”

  Sloane gets very quiet. Barely breathing.

  “So you want to bite me?”

  My laugh tumbles out—a tension relief. “I’m gonna bite you, yeah.” I say it like she has no choice, but of course I wouldn’t claim her if she didn’t agree. “And that means you’re mine. Forever. Because I love you, Sloane. You’re the fucking Earth and moon and stars to me. And I would die before I let you go. Even without a mating bite.”