Page 87 of Bearly Hanging On

“Never answer a question with a question,” I shot back, deliberately keeping my tone light. Bamboozle him with banter and stop him from realising what was going on until I had a plan worked out, that was the next step.

“I question the wisdom of the gods every time I’m forced to acknowledge you’re my mate,” he muttered.

“You mean thank the gods.”

For a moment, I could pretend that I didn’t just hear that terrible message, that my friend’s scream of pain didn’t reverberate around in my head. Instead, me and one of the guys destined to be my mate were hanging out in his basement, riling each other up. That his smile was marred by the obvious signs of exhaustion. That he would turn serious, then march upstairs with the rifle in hand, ready to take Dax on.

And I couldn’t let him.

“When did you sleep last?” I asked, and that had the smile fading from his face.

“I haven’t.” He forced himself to stand taller. “I won’t, not until this thing with Dax is sorted.”

“Mack—”

“I’m fine.” His hand took mine, his grip curiously gentle as he directed me towards the couch. “Now, let’s watch the stupid re-runs as we wait my brother out.” He glanced down at his phone. “If this is anything like the other times, he’ll make contact soon.”

But he already had.

I stared at Mack as we sat on the couch, watching him far more closely than the screen.

“What?” he said, trying to keep the edge of irritation from his voice and failing.

“Why don’t you call the police?”

That was met by a frustrated sigh.

“If they were capable of bringing down Dax, don’t you think they would’ve already?” Mack said. “They’ve been after him for years, my father before him, but they’ve never been able to catch him.” He shook his head. “Hampered by rules and regulations.”

“So why not get the shifter communities involved?” He stopped pretending to watch the TV and stared at me openly now. “I mean an army of tigers and bears, that’s gotta count for something, right?”

“Harper—”

“You could ask for help, you know.Wecould ask for help.”

My voice trembled on that last bit.

“Harper…” He pulled me onto his lap, stroking his hand down my sides. “Beautiful, I know this is hard?—”

“If your twin is the evil mastermind you make him out to be, then you…” My throat was closing up and I couldn’t seem to stop it. Stuff it down, I thought furiously. Stuff all that feeling down, like you usually do. The same mechanism that had me biting back my anger when customers were shitty, or containing my irritation when I was having to deal with yet another boundary violation from Mum snapped into place, allowing me to act like I was calm. “Then what’s the plan, Mack?” I glanced down at the rifle now sitting on the coffee table. “Wait for Dax to rock up here, then shoot him as he tries to burn the place to the ground?”

“What else can I do, Harper?” I’d seen Mack grumpy, cocky, but never hopeless, so I blinked at what I saw right now. “How the hell do I keep everyone safe? I never…” His hands gripped my hips. “I never should’ve formed a pack with the guys. I should’ve walked away the moment they found you.”

I went to climb off him, but he held me fast. His hand went to the back of my neck, tugging me close enough that our lips hovered over each other’s.

“But I didn’t, couldn’t. You’re my girl, Harper. I will use every resource I’ve got to protect you, protect my pack from him. I won’t rest until he’s ten feet under or…”

Or he was.

I saw it now, what he had planned. Why Mack was so stressed about the guys going to their parents’ places. He wanted to lock us all away here and then go and fight it out with his brother, leaving us to emerge later to see who survived.

And that wouldn’t do.

I knew what Mack was thinking. He fancied himself a lone wolf, detached from everyone around him, free to act on his own without consequence. I’d watched a documentary on wolves as a kid, stuck in my grandmother’s lounge room after Mum dropped me off so she could go out on a date. Wolf packs were extended family groups that worked together to ensure they survived, because lone wolves… They didn’t do so well. Many starved, got sickly and died without that pack support.

My hand went up, hovering for just a second, before stroking down the side of his face. It still felt unreal to touch him, like he was forever out of my reach. Emotionally unavailable guys were always my weakness, but I think I’d met the final boss in Mack. His eyelids fluttered just a little, his eyes red and bloodshot, yet unable to look away before turning his head and pressing a kiss into the palm of my hand.

That was the moment I knew I needed to do something very stupid.

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