Page 123 of Pack of Crooks
“Frankly, I think you’re a bitch and she deserves better than?—”
Her palm cracks against my skin. Pain blooms across my face as my head whips to the side. “You stupid cunt.”
Clutching my cheek, I scowl at her. “She loved you, you know, but obviously you didn’t care.”
That only makes her eyes flicker with rage. “You think I had a choice?” she snarls, fisting her hands at her side.
I step away from her, ready for her to lash out again. “What, you expect me to believe he forced you to break up with her?”
“It was for her protection.” Ellen’s scent is acidic. Full of fear even if her face is smooth as stone.
My stomach drops. Did Tristan threaten to hurt Vivian?
“What are you saying?”
Her lips press together.
My hackles rise. “What are you saying,Ellen? Is she in danger?”
She clenches her jaw, face red and nostrils flaring.
God dammit. Fucking stupid stubborn alpha. “Ellen,” I snap. “Is she in danger?”
“I don’t think so,” she says, forehead scrunching. “I did what he asked.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, snatching up my phone. “You didn’t even warn her, did you? Just broke her heart and sent her on her way.”
“It’s better this way.”
Rolling my eyes, I unlock my device. “You know, for an alpha so smart, you’re being pretty fucking dumb.” I want to scream that Tristan is dangerous and she should know this, but I don’t waste my anger on an alpha who won’t listen.
HAZEL
Can one of you check on my friend Vivian? Here’s her address.
“What are you doing?”
I scowl at Ellen. “Protecting my friend. Something her alpha couldn’t do.”
Silence drops on us like an anvil, and with shitty timing, an alert, one that isn’t from any of the company’s programs, dings. The virus finished installing. The alert may have well been a tornado siren.
Her eyes slowly lower and shoot toward the computer. “What was that?”
“Probably an email,” I say quickly. “I should really get Tristan the documents.”
“That wasn’t an email.”
I shrug. “Then it was some other program.”
Tipping her head, she looks me over, suspicion flickering across her face. “Are you spying on us, Hazel?”
I scoff. “Do I look like James Bond to you?”
“No, but you look like a pretty distraction.” Her eyes sweep over me. “Who sent you? The feds or a competitor? Maybe Lux Entertainment?”
“I’m not a cop or a spy.” At least one of those things is true.
“Let me help you find that document.” She starts to walk around the desk. I slip in front of her. A victorious smile cuts across her face. “Not a spy, huh?”
