Page 78 of Villainous Fate

“What’s going on out here?” Pete’s booming voice shouts across the space, causing me to jump again. I almost feel a hand at the small of my back, but just as I think it's there, it's gone again.

“Sadie, get up and get to work. You, gentlemen, need to leave. Now,” he orders, pointing his finger at the door while looking at Greg and his friends.

I resume my clean-up, locking my focus on the floor as they all file out to prevent a bigger scene and give my wolf time to calm down so I can regain control of my eyes.

“You too, gotta go,” Pete adds, and I hear the man behind me move.

I'm exhausted when I have the floor cleaned up and the tables cleared. The energy it took to contain my wolf and the additional stress from Pete yelling at both Sadie and me to stay out of the drama at work only added to the million thoughts bouncing around in my mind.

Why can’t Greg just leave me alone?

That’s the first of them, a question I have had for two years. Ever since Deacon and I began dating. I wasn’t friends with Greg even before the shift in our relationship, so why does it feel like he feels betrayed somehow?

Three hours later, I clock out, dragging myself toward the exit with thoughts of a hot shower and sleep on my mind. My school didn’t start until nine since I elected not to have a first period with my work schedule this year.

Exiting the front door into the chilly January evening, I focus on my classes tomorrow. I’ve got Calculus, Government, Library aid, and English Composition. I’m pretty sure I have a paper due, but I can throw it together before the end of the day.

A throat clearing to my left makes me jump out of my skin and shout.

“Ahhhhh!”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought clearing my throat would be less jarring than just speaking or touching your shoulder,” the voice says, causing me to turn to face him.

Standing off to my right, ten feet away with his hands in the air, is a guy about my age. His dirty blonde hair is disheveled and looks almost beachy, while his crystal blue eyes are opened wide, giving him a completely innocent expression. Despite being well over six feet tall and built like a Greek God, something about him is so unbelievably non-threatening.

My breathing calms, and my heart rate slows as I process what my eyes see. He waits patiently, allowing me to assess him without commenting and keeping his hands clearly visible.

“You’re the Alpha from the diner,” I state, not asking a question.

He nods, letting me come to my conclusions.

“Why did you intervene? Challenging the Second’s son in a territory that isn’t your own is the farthest thing from a smart decision, especially over a waitress at a diner,” I ask, skeptical of his motives.

“That was Belsom’s son? Well, shit. I mean, shoot,” he corrects himself, “apologies. My mom would kill me if she heard me talking to a lady like that,” he finishes, throwing a hand through his golden locks, a blush hitting his cheeks that causes mine to flame.

A lady? Who talks like that?

“Who are you?” I ask, letting my curiosity get the better of me.

“I’m Marcus, Marcus Stone,” he says, and all the pieces fall into place.

“Marcus!” I nearly shout, the sound echoing off the dark pavement forcing me to cover my mouth. My eyes scan the area, expecting to see people looking our way, but the area is empty, save for the two of us.

“Luca told me you would be doing your internship here, but I didn’t think you arrived until later in the week,” I say before stepping closer to him.

“Does that mean Deacon is in Miami? Did he make it out of there safely? How long until he will be able to call? Oh my goodness, how terrified I have been since he sent the last letter the day y’all entered the final trial. How did y’all do it? I can’t imagine all of the things they had y’all go through just to..”

He cuts me off.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. One thing at a time, there, Spitfire,” he says, chuckling, his hands motioning for me to slow down while a smile forms on his face. I can see exactly why Deacon calls him Captain.

Raising an eyebrow, I wait for him to answer my questions, but he just stares at me with a goofy grin before responding.

“You’re exactly as he described you, except for the braids, of course, but his impression was spot on,” he laughs, amusement dancing in his eyes before he continues. “Anyway, he gave me this letter to give to you when I arrived. I didn’t read it, but he said his new address would be there if you had a letter to get to him before his next one arrives.”

A lump forms in my throat at the mention of him, at the sight of his handwriting on the letter I now hold in my hand, and without any warning, I burst into tears.

Chapter 39

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