Page 54 of Wolf

“You would have thought a group with Russian killing machines like the Black Jacks would know where to stab someone to kill them.” I pointed at my wound again. “But I’mnotdead.”

Jax scoffed. “Pretty sure that’s ’cause you have a contract with thedevil.”

“Funny,” I huffed, shaking my head at him before looking at the adult brothers. “They missed my organs. On purpose,atthat.”

“Why?” Hunter asked this time, but it wasn’t me whoansweredhim.

“To lure out Ash,” Lamb answered, the cogs in his mind showing in his eyes as they put the pieces together. “If they can’t find her, the only other way is to get her to cometothem.”

“Well, to come to me, actually. There’s nothing like getting stabbed to draw her out into the open, and with no way of communicating with her from my end, I can’t tell her not to come.” I sighed. “The Black Jacks are going to be watching us like hawks, ready to grab her the second shesurfaces.”

Wolf tightened his grip on my hand, causing me to look at him. I realized he’d been studying my face, and his amber eyes narrowed on it, seriousness overtaking his brooding mask for once. “What do you wanttodo?”

What did I wanttodo?

Maybe someone else might not have thought Wolf asking me that was a big deal, but for a control freak like him, I knew it meant a lot more than he mightleton.

“We need to get to her first,” I said, my mind reeling. “And I know exactly how todoit.”

“I don’t think I’m going to like this,” Wolfgrumbled.

He was probablyright.

Chapter Twenty-One

Wolf

Isat in my office,reading over some of the annoying business briefs Lamb left me, trying to continue with business to keep our club afloat while we dealt with this shit. With the threat on our doorstep, we weren’t able to go on runs, leaving our profits slowly declining, and Lamb recommending we check into our investments as a means to stabilize us until thiswasover.

I found my mind drifting back to the night of the party, and then to the moment I saw the panic flash over Anna’s face. It was the first time I’d ever seen such intense fear from her. I knew she had a past; there was a reason she had left England, dropped all of her native identifiers, including her accent, and always deflected any questions about it. We all had our past, and knowing that best myself, I didn’t thinktoask.

I thought she would come to me in her own time. Like I didtoher.

I didn’t think it would come outlikethis.

My mind came back to reality as I realized my eyes had mindlessly read to the bottom of the page, and because I hadn’t been paying attention to any of it at all, I had to go back and reread it for theumpteenthtime.

“Why not look into Mark Twain’s Tattoos?” Anna’s voice piped up frombesideme.

I looked up, seeing her hip propped against my office doorway, her hair tied into a small bun, short pieces of hair falling down the sides of her face. She had one hand up by her ear, fiddling with one of her earrings, the other wrapped around a small file hugged close to her chest, eyes drifting around the room until it met the IKEAbookcase.

“I preferred the old one,” she sighed, pushing herself off the doorway before movingtowardme.

I moved back in my seat as she slid aside the paper sheets and hopped up onto the side ofthedesk.

I would have told her off for moving around too much, despite her wound having almost healed, if she hadn’t bitten my head off the day before for sayingsomething.

“Here.” Anna slapped the folder down on my desk, her small feet kicking out of her boots as she placed them on either one of my thighs, her blue eyes looking coy and playful, but she couldn’t hide the sharp, cautious way they studied my everyexpression.

I ignored how her small feet pressed into my thighs and pulled my chair closer to the table, her knees moving to one side of my chin as I placed a small kiss to each of them, not taking my eyes from hers as I reached forthefile.

Anna didn’t say anything as I let my eyes move to register the blank front of the brown folder. “What’sthis?”

“It’s later,” was all Anna said at first before she let out a soft sigh and let her eyes glide to the paper in my hand. “I told you I’d tell you what my story is. This should explain enoughfornow.”

I held her eyes for a moment and saw the way her shoulders folded slightly inwards, bracing herself. This folder was obviously important to her, and I couldn’t help but feel my heart rate increase that slightest bit as I opened the folder, feeling Anna’s feet slide off my legs to dangle above thefloor.

The first thing I saw was a photograph of a middle-aged man with dark hair and dark eyes. He was dressed in a tailored suit, and the photograph was posed. It was also accompanied by several group photos, some on podiums and with microphones as well, all focusing on thesameman.

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