Page 64 of The Runaway Mate

Jase had gone inside armed with a tiny listening device I’d found inside the safe room. Given that Derek and Ryan had hacked my entire life, I figured it was only fair if I helped myself to their tech. We couldn’t hack into the diner’s security feed, as cool as that might be, as none of us had a clue how to do that. The bug would have to do.

Jase had returned from his mission and slipped into the backseat of my car with Wally. Sofia had seated herself with me in the front.

“Fucking hell, you should have seen me!” Jase beamed. “I was soooo smooth. I picked a spot close to their table, pretended to tie my shoelace, and bam, baby! Dropped the bug on the underside of the table. It was a work of art, really, how easily it went.”

I’d glanced at Sofia, and she’d grimaced. “He wants to be here. He’s trustworthy, and it’s not like we had any other options.”

That was all true. Still.

“Aw, come on, Sof! Admit it. I did a fuck of a good job.”

“Stop saying fuck!” Sofia and I had said at the same time.

Sofia had turned to face him. “You did do a good job, Jase. Now, tone down the jabbering five-year-old.”

I hadn’t gone into the restaurant, conscious of the fact that if Brock were to catch my scent in there, it could compromise our whole plan. As much as I wanted to ensure the bug was placed perfectly, the risk of being discovered was too high. So, I’d stayed put, occupying my anxious mind with what I could do on my end—keep watch and listen.

After that, Sofia and Jase had gone back to Sofia’s car to wait for Brock’s arrival.

“You don’t need to be here, you know.”

Wally looked sideways at me. “Why? Because I’m relatively new to the Pack?”

I shrugged.

“Do you know how many Packs I’ve belonged to over the years?”

I shook my head.

“Six. And not one of them made me feel safe. Not one. I’m a gay werewolf, Mai. And I somehow managed to find some of the most homophobic, asshole Alphas this country had to offer. I’ve always had to hide the real me. What Jem has built here, in the Three Rivers, is special. For the first time in my life, I feel safe to be who I am. To follow my heart. There is nothing that would stop me from being in this car with you right now. I will protect this Pack. I will protect your brother with my life. And if that means I get to wear a trench coat, then I’m all in!”

After Ryan had called him this morning, told Wally what was going on, and asked if he could come round to help babysit me, Wally had turned up at the Shaws’ place wearing a full-length black leather trench coat. With his dark skin and piercing eyes, he looked bad-ass in it. Not that I was going to tell him that; it would only encourage him.

A flash of movement in my rear-view mirror caught my attention. It was Brock, pulling into the parking lot in his black SUV. He stepped out, a picture of casual confidence in jeans and a white and blue striped shirt, and started toward the restaurant. I ducked, bending under the wheel to make myself as small as possible. After a moment, I sneaked a peak. Brock sauntered in the front door without a glance in my direction, and I breathed out in relief.

I picked up the walkie-talkie I’d also swiped from the safe room. “Guys, do you copy?”

“Team Trench Coat, we copy loud and clear, over.”

Team Trench Coat? I guess I wasn’t the only one to notice.

“The target is in the building, over.”

“Copy that, out.”

Forty minutes later, there was still no Tristan. No news from Ryan or Jem, either. I had a really bad feeling about this.

“I don’t like this,” Wally whispered next to me.

“Me, either. If Tristan was coming, he’d be here by now.”

I held up the walk-talkie. “You guys still there?”

After a moment, the walkie-talkie hissed. “Still here, though I think we’re on the verge of going to sleep.”

“Any movement back there? Could Brock have slipped out the back?”

“Nope. Nothing apart from a waitress having a smoke.”

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