Page 30 of Knot My Boss

“Arek, you need to leave,” Declan says, stepping from around the table. Looking over my shoulder, every male here is angry. They stand behind me, forming a wall of muscle, arms crossed over their barrel chests.

Anger radiates off Arek as his bear rumbles in his chest. Staring down each of his relatives, retribution for their presumed betrayal is evident. A tense stand-off lasts for about five minutes before Arek backs down, spinning on his heel and leaving.

My heart cracks, and something inside me wants to chase Arek down. I take half a step before Declan wraps an arm around my shoulder.

“Forget about him,” he says sternly. “Let’s get back to tattoo design.”

What should have been a fun afternoon becomes strained, and we end up cutting our consulting session short.

Arek

How dare they!

Instead of going back to the restaurant for the dinner rush, I go home instead. The need to shift is overwhelming. It’s so bad that fur is sprouting on my arms as I race through Padston.

All of my cousins and my brothers, save Gunnar, are in for a rude awakening.

Pulling into my driveway, I leave the car parked at an angle, the door hanging wide open, and the keys still inside, I begin stripping off my clothes. Barely getting my pants off, my bear takes over. I’m surprised he let me get halfway across the yard before assuming control.

The shift is effortless and as soon as my front paws hit the ground, I take off through the tree line. Having the extra snow to deal with helps to burn off some of the rage. It still isn’t enough, though, so we continue to run, and run, and run.

Chapter 19 - Darby

Daegyn and Declan volunteered to help me set up my shop. In preparation for, hopefully, additional artists, I ordered enough equipment for four tattoo cubicles and two piercing cubicles. The reception area features a glass display case showcasing various jewelry, along with gauges for a variety of piercing options.

Large posters are waiting to be hung, most of them are old-school art. My favorite is the anatomy of a tattoo gun. Several photo albums need to be filled with flash designs, script options, and, of course, my portfolio. Flash designs are easy, since they are pre-designed options available for anyone walking in off the street. While they take hardly any time to do, they lack originality. If someone gets a piece of flash, they might come across twenty other people who have the identical design. The only variation would be color.

“Where do you want this couch?” Daegyn asks, maneuvering it through the door by himself.

“In front of the window, to the left of the door,” I explain. “There’s a small table for each end and a coffee table for thefront.” I focus on setting up the computer. I still have to open a bank account for the business and set up my credit card machine.

I’m in the back, organizing supplies, ink, needles, and sanitation equipment, when yelling can be heard coming from up front. Stepping around the corner, I hear my name.

“Where’s Darby?” the man asks. It takes me a minute to recognize Gunnar Palmer, Arek’s brother.

“Right here,” I answer, drawing everyone’s attention. My eyes widen in surprise, seeing all of the Palmer and Martin cousins inside my small shop. “What’s going on?”

“Your mate has gone off the reservation, so to speak,” one of the triplets answers, looking at her nails in boredom.

Looking between the guys, Gunnar has mercy on me.

“Arek’s bear took control three days ago,” Gunnar says, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “He’s missing.”

I gasp, covering my mouth in shock. My emotions war between worry for his safety and anger since he has been stupid enough to take off for several days.

“You need to come with us, back to the den,” Gunnar informs me. “Hopefully, he catches your scent and returns.”

“The den?” I ask.

“It’s our area of town,” Declan chimes in with a shrug.

The triplets step up, one of them speaking as the other two start moving.

“Leave this to us,” she says, waving me toward the door. “We can try and get this in order. You go with the guys and deal with our alpha.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, warily looking at the multitude of boxes.

“We wouldn’t have offered if we weren’t,” she snarks. “Now go, it’s still hunting season for bears in some parts of the state. You never know what these stupid hunters might do if they cross Arek’s path.” My eyes widen in shock.

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