Page 83 of Dubious Match
“Exactly what you did,” he says. “Using his weakness against him is what I taught you to do.”
We taught Hollis how to defend herself, even kill when necessary. There wasn’t a chance in hell we were going to do anything different when she moved away from home.
“Stop obsessing,” I remind her. “The only thing I regret is that we couldn’t torture the guys who hurt you. It was more important that your guards put them down so they couldn’t escape, Hollis. Now, get some rest, and try not to work too hard.”
“That’s an oxymoron when it comes to her,” Lars mutters.
Malcolm gets out of the car while Felix opens the back door, and I have to admit they’re efficient.
“We’ll muddle through,” Brice says, scooping Hollis up out of the wheelchair. “Did someone get her car from the botanical garden parking lot?”
“Evan did. It’s in the underground garage of your loft,” I grunt. “Your binders, laptop, and phone are in your bag, Hollis. If I missed something, text me. Please don’t go into the office this week.”
“I won’t,” she murmurs. “I’m still really tired.”
Her head lolls on Brice’s shoulder as she yawns, and I wish that I could murder Emilia and not care about the fallout.
“Take a nap,” I suggest. “Get better, please.”
I don’t take mafia jobs anymore, despite how I run my bar. Sometimes, my employees are barely old enough to work for me because it’s that or live on the streets. My brother and I are secretly softies, I guess.
Hollis’ eyes close, and Brice growls under his breath before getting into the back seat with her so he can keep her in his lap.
“For the record, the only reason you’re going home with her is because you’re her alphas,” Lars says. There’s an air of danger between us as we stare down Pack Ledger.
“We know,” Malcolm says as his pack gets into the SUV. “This isn’t a dick measuring contest, guys. We need time with Hollis. You’re important to her, and we get that. She’s finally letting us in.”
Forcing myself to take a breath, I nod. My guilt is riding me hard, so I’m projecting. Fuck, I need to track this girl down. If she’s Maree, then she has a lot to answer for.
Does she know who she is? Is that why she ran? Or were we just that fucking scary to her?
“Good,” I bite out. “I’ll check in with her later.”
Malcolm waves goodbye and gets into the vehicle, pulling away from the hospital entrance a moment later. No one has slept while she’s been here, and I can feel it pressing down on me like a heavy blanket.
Pack Ledger has been setting up their home so that Hollis will feel safe.
“Are we crashing the maternity ward now?” Lars asks.
“Yep,” I say, turning to return the wheelchair. “This doesn’t bode well for that squeaky clean image you give off, brother.”
Snorting, he shakes his head as I drop off the wheelchair with the reception desk, his curls dancing on his head as he walks alongside me.
“The other image was a little scary for a cafe owner,” he says. “There’s nothing wrong with reinventing yourself, Caleb. You just have to commit to it.”
He certainly has. I don’t think he stays up past ten at night anymore, and the round the clock guard posts we’ve held is definitely taking a toll on both of us.
The elevator opens as I hit the button, and a woman struggles to hold her newborn while also picking up her bag. Why isn’t there anyone to help her?
“Can I help you?” I ask gently. I don’t want to scare her, and she appears to be overwhelmed.
“Huh?” she looks over at us, and the stupid elevator doors threaten to close.
Lars sticks his size fifteen boot in the doorway to force them to open, and steps into the frame.
“We noticed you’re struggling,” he says. “Can we help? I’ve always thought that mothers should be able to grow extra arms for all the things they have to carry.”
A tired smile graces her lips as she chuckles.
