Page 52 of Property of Prowler
Love.
She wrote love. He gave a little howl. He could feel Wolf’s joy, but it was tainted.Hefelt tainted.
Wolf?
Nothing.
“Wolf?” Prowler spoke aloud, but Wolf’s only response was a snarl followed by a whimper. Prowler’s muscles were still contracting and contorting in pain. He could tell it came from Wolf, but he didn’t know what to say to bridge the chasm that had so recently closed but now reopened larger than ever before.
I’m sorry. I …
Prowler was at a loss. He didn’t understand Wolf’s pain. He was a man of action, not talk anyway.
What Wolf needed, what he needed, was his family together in his house and Allie out of sight.
Grabbing his phone, he called Langley, who answered on the first ring.
“Where are you?” Prowler asked as soon as Langley picked up.
“You’re up, good.” Langley spoke over Prowler’s question.
“I need you here now.”
“Good thing I’ve been in your driveway for thirty minutes waiting for the lights to come on.”
Prowler didn’t care for lawyers, but Langley was okay. The club took care of him, and he in turn took care of them.
Prowler threw open the door before the man could knock and stalked back toward the kitchen island with Langley on his heels.
“Allie. Get out here.” Within moments, Allie appeared with her travel bag and eyes cast down.
There was a touch of regret for how harshly he treated her, but not for her—for their secret. She now had firsthand knowledge that he was more than just a man.
Prowler shoved a pen in her hand, but Wolf snarled and twisted his muscles when she got within two feet of them.
“Ah, Ms. Powell, sign here. And here.” Langley flipped pages, and Allie signed. When she set the pen down, she turned to Prowler but not looking him in the eye.
Good.
“Can I see Cass at all?” She sounded genuine.
Prowler thought.
He didn’t want to keep Cass away from her mother, but he couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t ask Taylor to look at her, even though she didn’t know Allie was in his bed trying to fuck him while he was practically unconscious.
Wolf scoffed, and then snarled, fangs bared … toward Prowler.
What the fuck.
Prowler raked his hand through his hair and paced.
“Langley, can you print our standard NDA?”
“Don’t need to, brought one with me.” Langley pulled another document from his briefcase. The MC had an NDA everyone had to sign who wasn’t a member but visited the clubhouse. It not only covered what happened on the property but any member activity as well.
By default, that covered shifter stuff too. Not that it would keep all mouths shut, but it gave most people pause.
No one wanted to fuck with the Kings unless it was worth it. And they made sure it was never worth it.
