Page 18 of Pack to the Wall

“Yeah, but if Brick won’t give me the money, then it doesn’t matter if it’s technically mine or not!”

“I’m not talking about money.”

She looked at me confused.

I talked it out, glancing at Tyson and Bronn as I went, wondering if they’d considered this at all. “Look, you don’t plan on dying next week, and I’m assuming you don’t plan on buying a bike and riding either, you’re staying here and probably not selling your house, right?”

She nodded. “Yeah, so?”

“So… if we’re not going to be a roving pack anymore… why do we needourbikes?”

Bronn gasped.

Tyson’s eyes went wide, before he blinked and cocked his head. “You’re right. But man, that would piss people off.”

“Mostly the old betas,” Bronn clarified.

I smiled. “Exactly, and we don’t have to sell all the bikes, probably just a few to pay for a week’s worth of supplies. Whose bikes do you think we’d start with?” I grinned.

Bronn grinned, catching on.

“Oh man, you’re cruel. I love it,” Tyson said.

“We sell the old beta’s bikes?” Jane said with a vicious little smile of her own.

“Exactly,” I said. “Unless Brick wants to tell us where the money is, then we may not have to.”

“You’re so big, sometimes I forget you have brains,” Bronn said.

“Yeah, well… I don’t use them a lot, so they’re fresh and ready to go when I need them,” I joked. Everyone laughed, including Jane. Seeing the smile on her face warmed my heart and made it pound all the faster.

“It’s a plan,” Jane said. “Let’s do it!”

JANE

All four ofus went to confront Brick. I couldn’t deny how amazing it felt to have these three strapping men towering around me. Yesterday, if these three had been this close, I’d have been terrified, but a lot had changed in a very short time.

And as much as I’d only known them for a few hours, I was quickly becoming accustomed to them. I didn’t know what it meant to be fated, but I certainly felt something for Tyson. Somehow, my soulknewthe man.

Something deep in my gut told me everything I needed to know about him: I could trust him, he’d always protect me, and he was a sexy beast of a man. Just thinking of him made my heart beat quicker.

When I looked at him, my eyes may have seen a gruff and hard exterior, but I knew he was more than just his brooding bad boy persona. I’d never wanted the bad boys in my younger years. I knew they wouldn’t treat me well, but that didn’t stop me from drooling over their hard, edgy looks.

And Tyson had all of that going on: tall and broad, with dark hair framing a tanned face and dark, intense, blue eyes. Heat shivered through me just thinking about him. He had all that, and he’d treat me right. Nowthatwas the perfect bad boy.

I found it ever-so-ironic that I’d married a man who I’d thought was a good guy and he’d turned out to be a jerk in disguise. Now, I had a man who looked to be one hundred percent bad, but I knew he had a good heart.

And then there were the other two men with me.

Bronn was simply beautiful: rich black skin, a smooth-shaved head and face, with dark eyes, and even though he was the shortest of the three, he was built thick and stocky with heavy shoulders and arms rolling with muscle. He had this way of looking at me, like he wanted to eat me, but in the best way, like I was the sweetest and most tempting dessert.

Behind that look though, deep in his near-to-black eyes, was a pain so deep it made me want to just hold him close and tell him everything would be all right. Then, there’d been our kiss, which somehow had turned into me mock biting his neck. I’d never been more turned on in my entire life and I’d felt that raw desire reciprocated from him. I didn’t have some special bond with him, but I knew I could trust him, implicitly, that he was there for me, no matter what.

And last, but so very far from least, there was cheerful, hulking Colt. The giant man was half a head taller than Tyson but built just as stocky as Bronn, which made him absolutely huge. His arms were the size of my — not skinny — thighs.

Yet despite his size, he seemed like a teddy bear, all welcoming warmth. And as Bronn had recently pointed out, there was a brain in his head. A head covered in thick blond locks with steady amber-brown eyes and a square jaw, chiseled from stone. And when those amber eyes looked at me, his mouth would quirk in just a hint of a smile, as if I was a best friend — someone he’d known forever — that he was starting to think could be more. It left me feeling comfortably warm and thrilled all at once.

Just as we stepped out the back door, my phone rang. I stopped and the guys stopped with me.

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