Page 109 of The Butcher

Me, the probable psychopath, wanted to cry and go on a warpath over the woman I love. I would have bawled like a bitch, too, if I hadn’t seen the switch flip in Nash. I had zero plans of leaving our girl alone and upset, body dump or not, but I also had to make sure our alphas didn’t murder each other the second they were out of sight.

I watched theoh shitswitch flip, saw it in everything from Nash’s body language to the way those grassy eyes went almost as dark as Bram’s, and if I didn’t follow them out of that bedroom then out to the driveway, one of them might be dead right now.

One of them would be dead right now.

Nash was seeing red.

Hell, he was probably seeing red, white, and all the colors, but the fact that it was so obvious made him much more dangerous than usual. Those two bucking up to each other is always scary, and it’s exactly why I wound up between them in my least favorite way.

Nash swung on Bram before I got to them, landing a punch directly on his kisser, one that knocked his mask down, and split his lip. The idiot looked surprised by it, like he didn’t understand why Nash hit him, or why he was so angry.

In hindsight, that was really weird.

There’s usually a lot of yelling, shoving, maybe some punching and throwing each other around. One time Bram got stabbed, but that was just because they went at it while we were sitting in a tree. They fell out of it when they got too rowdy, andour alpha landed on his Bowie knife when he hit the ground. But they always hash things out while they fight, always know why it’s happening.

This time? Bramley seemed clueless, and just took it.

He didn’t fight back, he barely even reacted to the punch, but I still had to get between them because I wasn’t sure Nash was going to stop there. I’m almost positive he wasn’t going to. The look in his eyes, that was next level Nashy, and when that guy takes over, well, people usually die, and mad or not, I love Bramley and don’t want that for him.

Right now, I’m questioning if I made the right choice.

He said nothing from the time we walked out of the house right up until we got to the new dump sight. Nothing but some pointing to all get in his truck, more of that when he wanted us to drive separate in the box truck, then there was nothing when we got to the barn. Not that we needed direction, he had two mutilated bodies wrapped up and waiting to get loaded. That was self explanatory.

But it was fucking weird that Bramley had nothing to say.

Then it was infuriating because no sooner had we sent the dead to the bears, that shithead was in his truck, burning rubber to god knows where.

“Clayton,” my alpha says softly, bringing my attention back to him. “He’s going to come around.”

I roll my eyes with a huff. “You were seconds from killing him, Nash. You can’t tell me you still believe that.”

“I do.” His thumbs move over the sides of my neck, brushing back and forth under my jaw. Nash’s hand ghosts over my skin, his fingers gently tracing his bite mark on the hollow of my throat. “And so do you.”

My eyes slide shut as he does it again, calming me in a way only this man can.

He’ll tell you that I’m the glue in this pack, the one who’s kept the two of them together for so many years, and while I know I’m part of the why, I’m not the glue, he is. Nash is the fucking cement.

Bram listens to him, whether my alpha thinks so or not, and he’s the one who constantly reminds me that I have more of the humanity my doctors thought I lacked than I’ll ever fully accept. Nash is the bridge trying to close the gap between Indy and Bramley, and he’s trying like hell to keep it from burning.

He’s a good man, they both are, really, and I’ve been pretty goddamn lucky to call them mine for over half my life.

“Can we go home now?” I sigh as I lean into his touch, smiling when I feel his lips against mine. “I miss Indy.”

Nash chuckles as he plants one more kiss on me, then backs up so I can stand. “Couple hours away is too much for you now?”

“Yep.” I nod and head for the driver’s side. “It was before, you know how much separation anxiety I get, but our girl was naked when we left. It’s a solid motivator to get home lickety split.”

“She’s going to need to be comforted when we get home, not fucked.”

I grin as he slams his door. “Comfort first, fucking second.”

Nash shakes his head as we take off toward home. “We need to feed her, too, Clayton. Indy can’t survive on nothing but dick.”

“I’ve done fine with it.” I reach over and squeeze his thigh right by his cock. “Steady diet has kept me fit and full for a long time.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m right.”

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