Page 3 of Heroes & Hitmen
Fuck yes.
Her green eyes sparkle with deviant intent as she spins on a heel, strutting off toward the exit. Naturally, I hang back to scopeher round ass for a few seconds before catching up in a couple long strides.
“Wait, why justone?” I question as I fall into step beside her.
“By the time you get back I could be mated,” she muses, glancing over at me slyly as we approach the exit door. “Oryoucould be.”
“Yeah right,” I snort, reaching past Mel to push the door open. The cool night air smacks us in the face the moment we step outside, the last dredges of winter hanging on even as the spring days are getting warmer.
“Why not?” she asks as the door bangs shut behind us, but her question doesn’t even register. I’m too busy weighing my options, eyeing my truck in the parking lot and trying to decide whether I’m in any condition to get behind the wheel.
We could just fuck in the back seat. Then again, that always sounds like a good idea until you’re all pretzeled up in the cramped space, bashing your head against the roof when you try to switch positions. Car sex is great in theory, but terrible in practice– though it’ll do in a pinch, even with the risk of concussion. No matter where we wind up, I think I’ll start by putting her in reverse cowgirl so I can watch that ass bounce…
“Ares,” Mel laughs as she nudges me in the ribs with an elbow, pulling me back from my filthy stream of thoughts about where and how I’m going to fuck her.
“Huh?” I ask, snapping my head in her direction.
“Why don’t you think you could come back with a mate?”
“Eh, just doesn’t seem likely for someone like me,” I sigh, reaching down to pull at the front of jeans since they’re currently suffocating my boner. “Pretty sure fate passed me up a long time ago.”
Mel snorts softly, but she doesn’t argue. She knows me too well for that.
“Walk to the packhouse?” I suggest, tipping my head in that direction.
She nods, and the two of us start across the parking lot, her heels clicking against the pavement and the cool night air brushing against our skin. The bar noise fades behind us, replaced by the quiet pulse of crickets and the rustle of leaves in the nearby forest. Stillwater might be small, but even silence has a hum here.
Tomorrow, I’ll leave this place behind for a new city, new rules,and new chances to screw everything up– or maybe finally figure out what the hell I’m actually doing with my life– buttonight?
Tonight, I’m not thinking about fate, or the future, or whether I’ll ever settle down and find a mate.
Tonight, I’m giving this town one last reason to miss me.
CHAPTER 2
Miley
“Stop that,”I hiss, swatting at Blake’s chest with the back of a hand in an effort to get her to quit biting her fingernails. We’ve been loitering in the hallway outside Alpha’s office for twenty minutes now, and at this rate, she’ll have them all chewed down to stumps by the time we’re summoned inside.
“Why?” Jordan snorts derisively from my opposite side, slumping back against the wall and folding her arms. “Doubt he’ll be looking at her nails.”
“Because it’s gross,” I mutter as I glance down at my own pristinely manicured fingernails. They’re painted baby pink– a perfect match to the shade of lipstick I meticulously applied before coming here. The top half of my dark blonde hair is pulled back neatly, a satin bow keeping it in place. I may be an unwilling participant in this perusal, but I’ll be damned if I show up to it looking anything less than polished.
That’s what Alpha calls these meetings:perusals. He’s a master at labeling offensive things with seemingly innocuous terms, but putting lipstick on a pig doesn’t change what it really is. Perusals are precursors to pairings, and both are mere business transactions to him.
Blake heeds my warning for all of two minutes before she’s right back to chewing her nails again, but I can’t bring myself to admonish her a second time. I’m just as anxious as she is for what lies ahead. This is the third perusal I’ve had to endure in as manyyears, and I know my odds of being passed over grow slimmer with each one. If I didn’t possess the kind of self-control I do, my own nails would be bitten down to the quick.
“Know anything about this one?” Jordan asks, peeking over at me through her eyelashes. She may act unaffected, but she’s nervous about what awaits us in that office, too. I can see it in the way she keeps twisting her little star ring around her index finger, dark eyes constantly flickering toward the door when she thinks nobody’s looking.
“Not much,” I admit quietly. This particular perusal was sprung on us– no warning, no time to prepare. I’d typically flex my budding journalism skills to dig for details and uncover some shred of information that might give me an edge, but this time I’m going in blind. And that fact only makes the whole thing even more unnerving.
The door across the hall abruptly swings open, all three of us flinching in response. The already thick tension in the air spikes when Ross steps out, his broad frame blocking the doorway. He’s one of Alpha’s many pack enforcers, and while there’s nothing particularly threatening about his presence alone, it’s the look of expectation on his face that raises goosebumps on my arms.
“Alpha’s ready for you,” he states, sidestepping and holding the door wide in silent invitation.
Jordan pushes off from the wall, stomping defiantly into the lead as I fall into stride behind her. Blake trails miserably after me like a ghost, her footsteps barely audible as the three of us move past Ross to file inside the office.
The floor-to-ceiling windows lining the back wall let in a flood of light, temporarily blinding me as I enter. The skyscraper owned by our pack rises high above the city of Chicago, a vertical world where Alpha’s reign stretches across all sixty-four floors. Most of them are luxury living, while a few floors, like this one, are designated as office space. The Tower is all shiny and polished on the outside, but there’s a rot lurking beneath the surface– just like the pack itself.
