But pledging anything to Kent was the farthest thing from my mind.
“There are too many of them…” I still stared at my room, but what I saw was the line of cars. The dozens of men Malone—officially, Kent Pierce—had brought. “We can’t take them.”
“We couldn’t even if we were evenly matched,” Jace said, half-seated on the end of the bed. “They’re armed. Ten of them, anyway.”
“They’re kicking us out.” I said it. I understood it. But I couldn’t believe it.
“The rest of us, yes.” Marc’s face was so flushed I was afraid his eyes would pop out of his skull from the pressure. “They’re trying to keep you and the doc. The most valuable resources.”
“They’d have to kill me first.”
My mother huffed, and I was relieved to see anger winning out over her tears. “They very nearly did. But I have to say, this whole maneuver seems pointless. They have to know you’re not going to stay here with Kent. How long can he possibly expect to hold on to a territory with no tabby?”
“He probably doesn’t realize he’s actually lost Manx and Kaci yet,” I said, sparing a moment to be grateful that they’d gotten away. “Once they figure that out, they’ll probably make a move for one or both of them.” And we weren’t ready for that yet. I shook my head and my shoulder ached worse. “We can’t wait for their next move. We’ll regroup, and come back on our own terms. I have a plan.” Everyone tried to talk at once, but I spoke over them. “Let’s go.”
My mother frowned. “Don’t you want to rest first?”
“I can rest in the car. For now, I want to get out of here so I don’t have to see that bastard sitting in Dad’s chair. Everybody pack up quickly. Mom, can you take some more stuff for Kaci and Manx?” They hadn’t had time to take much.
“Of course.” She stood and helped me up, when the room threatened to slide right out from under me.
I glanced from Marc to Jace and back. “You two pack for yourselves and for the other guys. Put Vic and Brian on watch at the front door, and Parker by the back door, where he won’t have to see his father or brother.”
They both nodded, already heading out with my mom.
While the others carried out their tasks, I packed slowly and carefully, with Dr. Carver’s help, desperately wishing for the use of both eyes. I hurt all over, but refused to take anything stronger than Tylenol until we were on the road. Carver’s pills wore off quickly—damned Shifter metabolism—but, while they were in effect, tended to render me less than coherent. Or conscious.
I packed everything I could fit into the two suitcases in my closet, taking special care to empty my underwear drawer. Otherwise, I’d have nightmares about strangers riffling through my stuff while I wasn’t around to defend it.
Fifteen minutes later, the guys were back, carrying three suitcases each. Jace went to help my mom with Kaci’s stuff, and Marc sent the doc to pack some food and drinks. Then he closed my bedroom door and we were alone for the first time since my father had died.
I closed my eyes, suddenly nervous for no reason I could have named. “So…I guess I’m gonna look like Rocky for a while.” I’d intentionally avoided more than a brief glimpse of my face while I packed, but that one glance was enough. My nose was puffy and discolored. Both of my eyes were black, one swollen almost shut. My lower lip was split and bloody. And my left cheek was purple. I wouldn’t even have been able to recognize myself, if it weren’t for the pain—that was getting to be pretty familiar.
“You know that doesn’t matter to me.”
“Good. Because if today’s any indication, this may be how I spend the majority of my tenure as Alpha.”
“I thought he was going to kill you,” Marc whispered, leaning against the door.
“Sounds like he tried.” I shoved my spare work boots into the second suitcase and forced the zipper around a tight corner, one hand pressed to my throbbing cracked rib. “Thank you for stopping it.”
“Promise me you won’t do this again.”
“Hell, I didn’t mean to do it this time. The plan was to win.”
Marc crossed the room in an instant and pulled me up by my good arm. I winced, and he loosened his grip, but didn’t let go. “I’m serious, Faythe. You can’t win against Dean. Not even in a fair fight. This isn’t what your dad had in mind when he named you. Being Alpha isn’t just about fighting. Hell, most of them are too old for that, anyway. And I can’t watch him kill you.”
“You won’t have to.” I stood on my toes to kiss him, half-afraid he wouldn’t kiss me back. That he’d be too mad, or…repulsed by my raw-meat face.
He kissed me like we might not for touch again for years. Like he thought he’d lost me.
I rested my forehead on his chin, glad I could breathe through my nose again, so I could inhale his scent. I hurt so badly, and I just wanted to be held. But that wasn’t an option for an Alpha. Especially a disgraced Alpha.
“Are you ready?” His arms slipped around me slowly, careful of my many deep bruises.
“Yeah. Let’s get out of here.” I stopped in the office to grab the Pride call tree, then we met everyone else in the hallway, all seven of the guys loaded down with suitcases. My mom pulled her own wheeled bag and held a cardboard box loaded with my father’s plaques, awards, and personal papers.
“There are too many of them…” I still stared at my room, but what I saw was the line of cars. The dozens of men Malone—officially, Kent Pierce—had brought. “We can’t take them.”
“We couldn’t even if we were evenly matched,” Jace said, half-seated on the end of the bed. “They’re armed. Ten of them, anyway.”
“They’re kicking us out.” I said it. I understood it. But I couldn’t believe it.
“The rest of us, yes.” Marc’s face was so flushed I was afraid his eyes would pop out of his skull from the pressure. “They’re trying to keep you and the doc. The most valuable resources.”
“They’d have to kill me first.”
My mother huffed, and I was relieved to see anger winning out over her tears. “They very nearly did. But I have to say, this whole maneuver seems pointless. They have to know you’re not going to stay here with Kent. How long can he possibly expect to hold on to a territory with no tabby?”
“He probably doesn’t realize he’s actually lost Manx and Kaci yet,” I said, sparing a moment to be grateful that they’d gotten away. “Once they figure that out, they’ll probably make a move for one or both of them.” And we weren’t ready for that yet. I shook my head and my shoulder ached worse. “We can’t wait for their next move. We’ll regroup, and come back on our own terms. I have a plan.” Everyone tried to talk at once, but I spoke over them. “Let’s go.”
My mother frowned. “Don’t you want to rest first?”
“I can rest in the car. For now, I want to get out of here so I don’t have to see that bastard sitting in Dad’s chair. Everybody pack up quickly. Mom, can you take some more stuff for Kaci and Manx?” They hadn’t had time to take much.
“Of course.” She stood and helped me up, when the room threatened to slide right out from under me.
I glanced from Marc to Jace and back. “You two pack for yourselves and for the other guys. Put Vic and Brian on watch at the front door, and Parker by the back door, where he won’t have to see his father or brother.”
They both nodded, already heading out with my mom.
While the others carried out their tasks, I packed slowly and carefully, with Dr. Carver’s help, desperately wishing for the use of both eyes. I hurt all over, but refused to take anything stronger than Tylenol until we were on the road. Carver’s pills wore off quickly—damned Shifter metabolism—but, while they were in effect, tended to render me less than coherent. Or conscious.
I packed everything I could fit into the two suitcases in my closet, taking special care to empty my underwear drawer. Otherwise, I’d have nightmares about strangers riffling through my stuff while I wasn’t around to defend it.
Fifteen minutes later, the guys were back, carrying three suitcases each. Jace went to help my mom with Kaci’s stuff, and Marc sent the doc to pack some food and drinks. Then he closed my bedroom door and we were alone for the first time since my father had died.
I closed my eyes, suddenly nervous for no reason I could have named. “So…I guess I’m gonna look like Rocky for a while.” I’d intentionally avoided more than a brief glimpse of my face while I packed, but that one glance was enough. My nose was puffy and discolored. Both of my eyes were black, one swollen almost shut. My lower lip was split and bloody. And my left cheek was purple. I wouldn’t even have been able to recognize myself, if it weren’t for the pain—that was getting to be pretty familiar.
“You know that doesn’t matter to me.”
“Good. Because if today’s any indication, this may be how I spend the majority of my tenure as Alpha.”
“I thought he was going to kill you,” Marc whispered, leaning against the door.
“Sounds like he tried.” I shoved my spare work boots into the second suitcase and forced the zipper around a tight corner, one hand pressed to my throbbing cracked rib. “Thank you for stopping it.”
“Promise me you won’t do this again.”
“Hell, I didn’t mean to do it this time. The plan was to win.”
Marc crossed the room in an instant and pulled me up by my good arm. I winced, and he loosened his grip, but didn’t let go. “I’m serious, Faythe. You can’t win against Dean. Not even in a fair fight. This isn’t what your dad had in mind when he named you. Being Alpha isn’t just about fighting. Hell, most of them are too old for that, anyway. And I can’t watch him kill you.”
“You won’t have to.” I stood on my toes to kiss him, half-afraid he wouldn’t kiss me back. That he’d be too mad, or…repulsed by my raw-meat face.
He kissed me like we might not for touch again for years. Like he thought he’d lost me.
I rested my forehead on his chin, glad I could breathe through my nose again, so I could inhale his scent. I hurt so badly, and I just wanted to be held. But that wasn’t an option for an Alpha. Especially a disgraced Alpha.
“Are you ready?” His arms slipped around me slowly, careful of my many deep bruises.
“Yeah. Let’s get out of here.” I stopped in the office to grab the Pride call tree, then we met everyone else in the hallway, all seven of the guys loaded down with suitcases. My mom pulled her own wheeled bag and held a cardboard box loaded with my father’s plaques, awards, and personal papers.
