Page 39 of The Broken Wolf's Redemption

She was glad for it when she threw the door open. Rome’s eyes immediately took in her mussed hair and sleepy, unguarded appearance. She wrapped her arms around her chest, hiding her braless state.

“We’re not a thing,” she whisper-yelled, conscious of the limp form of Waverly, fast asleep, in his arms.

He was clearly dressed for wherever he was going, his black long-sleeve t-shirt, black work fatigues, and black boots giving him the look of someone either about to burgle a place or kick serious ass. No one wore white when they were planning on spilling blood. Black was for sure the go-to color for less clean up.

She was pissed that the first thing she noticed after Waverly and the endless black was the bulges of Rome’s muscles and her art on the backs of his hands. He didn’t show up at her door like a lover in the middle of the night and make her feel safe.

Safe wasn’t even in the realm of what he made her feel.

He turned her body into a dangerous weapon he could use against her at his whim. She’d been having dreams for the past few nights that were so real that she woken up, her thighs buzzing, lungs pumping, pussy throbbing and empty. The sex wouldn’t just be hot with Rome. It would be an inferno.

“You can’t do this.”

She didn’t give way and he didn’t force her to step back and let him in. He stood there, under the clear assumption that he was indeed doing it and she was going to let him get away with it. That worked her up further, squashing the heat of attraction and firing the heat of anger. It made her want to dig in and fight.

“Let me in, Seren.”

Why? Why did he have to ask in that velvet smooth baritone, and why did she have to step aside and let him push past her?

He went straight to her living room and set Waverly gently down on the couch. She didn’t wake up. He spotted the knit blanket, black with bright rainbow bursts in the middle, on the back of the beige coach and pulled it down, gently laying it over the tiny girl.

Seren stood there useless and gaping, as per usual, completely at a loss for anything to say. She didn’t have to do this. She should not be allowing this man to interrupt her life this way. It was bad enough she couldn’t purge him from her thoughts and dreams.

She stared him down, but she knew her look wasn’t stony or unforgiving. Instead, it probably felt like a caress against the brutal line of his jaw. Technically, she’d started this. She’d brought the shovel to her own grave.

Rome reached into his back pocket and unfolded a brown envelope. He held it out for her.

“No.” Like fuck she was going to take that and get herself in even deeper. There was zero chance that could be anything good. Knowing Rome, it was probably full of poison and razor blades, just like him.

He threw it onto her vintage coffee table, a lovely mid-century modern one she’d found at an antique fair. “If something happens to me, I need you to get Waverly to my family. Everything she’ll need is in there.”

Her mouth dropped open. She hated doing the stunned, stupid deer thing and letting his cold black eyes paralyze her into it. “If something happens to you? Are you insane? What are you—where are you going?” It wasn’t like he was going to answer. He literally turned and acted like he was going to leave. She rushed after him and stopped short of grabbing his arm. “Rome!” Her angry tone tore through the room. “I’m not letting you leave here until you tell me.”

“The less you know, the better.”

“Nope.” She popped her lips on the P. “That’s not going to cut it.”

He speared her with his gaze, giving her every bit of that swordlike intensity. She swallowed hard, feeling it in her spine, but also between her legs. What was wrong with her that she found the total absence of any decency and human affection attractive? She’d never been someone who could just easily have sex and move on. For her, it meant nothing unless there was affection and a measure of permanence.

And then there was Rome.

She’d never even contemplated touching herself to anyone but a straight up fantasy before. Book boyfriends or a character in a show or movie she liked. It wasn’t the man himself. It was always, always the personality. The storyline. She hadn’t actually pulled the trigger on the Rome thing outside of his evil office and the dreams she couldn’t control.

She thought he was going to just walk out on her, but he changed his mind. “One of the guys from the garage used to be in with a bad crowd. They let him go, reluctantly, but they haven’t severed all ties. He wasn’t up front about this until yesterday. This gang wants to use him when it’s convenient and saying no isn’t an option. Moving some product for them here and there wasn’t above his paygrade to keep them out of his life for the most part, but they’re escalating. That shit stops tonight. They’re humans. They’ve never dealt with a pack of angry wolves before. When we’re done with them, there won’t be any left to harass anyone.”

“A-a gang?” she spluttered. “In Casper?”

“They’re a mother chapter, located elsewhere, but they have ties here and everywhere. Don’t discount small cities. They’re ripe for profits when it comes to drugs, women, and clubs.”

She wanted to argue with him, but it was difficult. For a wolf, loyalty was paramount. He was going to war for another wolf, a brother. They were a pack of sorts, those wolves at the garage he ran. Had he gathered them to him, started it, made a home for them, a pseudo pack for the packless.

Loyalty and the fact that gangs who were hurting and killing people deserved zero sympathy aside, what he was planning was still murder, and that was no less evil for possibly being deserved.

“You can’t do that! Not as humans and not as wolves.”

Darkness moved through already impossibly dark eyes. It was beyond clear that Rome was a man who would burn down the world if he was wronged or someone he cared about was threatened. He’d told her as much, but seeing it in action was entirely different.

She should look away from such a level of horror. He was telling her straight up that he was going to do this. He’d brought Waverly to her and made plans in case the slaughter went wrong. He felt no shame over it. He stood there, giving her an unrelenting stare down that said he felt no guilt at all. The worst part was, even now, he was beautiful. He was so beautiful that she was transfixed. She couldn’t stop looking at him.

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