Page 16 of Pack of Crooks
“I might’ve snuck into their house and stolen a few things.”
“And?” she demands, eyes narrowing.
Why do I feel like she’s parenting me?
“And,” I begin with a huff. “They may have almost caught me, but it’s fine. I made it home with barely a mark.” I hold up my palms. There are more than a few scrapes, but they’ll heal quickly. Dropping my hands, I hide them behind my back and put on my best poker face. “It’s fine. They don’t know who I am or what I look like.”
But they do know what my scent smells like.
She frowns. “Haze, you have to be careful. Packs like that are dangerous.”
Yeah, dangerously hot.I know she’s telling me that out of concern, but it’s nothing I haven’t already told myself. Taking a deep breath, I press my hand to my chest, like that’ll somehow steady my heart rate, and glance around.
“Is Lottie still asleep?”
Millie steps back, her features softening. “Like a rock.” She grabs a glass out of the cupboard, fills it from the tap, hands it to me, and watches as I gulp it down. “Should I be worried?”
Possibly, but I lost them. The probability of that pack finding me in a city this big? Slim to none. It’ll be fine.
They won’t find me.
That’s a good thing. So tell me why part of me wants them to?
six
KILL
The scent of that omega is everywhere. The kitchen. The living room. Our bedrooms. My closet. Near my bed. I keep breathing deep, and part of me is terrified her scent will fade and I’ll never smell it again.
But I won’t let that happen.
There are over eight million people in New York City. I will personally hunt each one down until I find her. I’ll go door to door, through every subway car, down into the underground cities. Through every crack and crevice. Make no mistake, I will find her.
“Fuck.” Maddox is pacing in front of the coffee table, fists clenching and unclenching. Four steps in one direction. Pivot on the left foot. Four steps in the other. Pivot on the right. The pattern doesn’t change. Maddox lives his life in patterns and symmetry. This particular one is meant to soothe, but if anything, he’s growing more agitated.
She got away from him, from all of us. Maddox takes that as a personal affront. He’s always good at thinking ahead. Though, nothing could have prepared him for her. After Ezra sent the restof the omegas on their way, we got an alert someone was in our home.
I thought perhaps it was Rook, come to avenge his fallen pack, even if they had all deserved to die, but it wasn’t him. Our omega broke into our house, or rather, let herself in using the emergency keycard in my wallet.
She snooped around. Left her scent. Helped herself to our clothes. My lips kick up into a smirk.
“She likes our scents,” I state the obvious. She might’ve run, but not without her tokens. “She’ll probably put them in her nest.”
What does her nest look like? Pink? No, she doesn’t strike me as someone who likes fluffy colors. Maybe dark blue, a deep purple, or rich crimson and black. Something moody and complex.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Ezra says, ever the pessimist. “She was terrified.”
“I’d like to know why,” Maddox practically growls.
Humming in agreement, I recall the horrified look on her face as Maddox closed in. She looked like a wounded rabbit trapped between a pack of wolves, but that’s not what bothers me most, it was the way her gaze grew a little distant for a few seconds. It was like looking in a mirror when the worst of my past comes to haunt me. Memories of similar situations likely threatening to drag her back into those dark moments.
And then she snapped out of it, the instinct to live, to escape, snatched a hold of her so quickly. The moment she grabbed a paperback and inched toward my open window, I knew exactly what she planned to do. Checking the book for the sixth time, simply reaffirming that it is indeed unharmed, I contemplate ways to make her pay.Heather. That’s definitely not her name, and unlike Maddox and Ezra, I know what she looks like. Long, blonde hair. Sunkissed skin. Haunted sky blue eyes.
That voice. A little rasping, darkly melodic. Mesmerizing.God, that fucking voice.
I’d die just to hear her make a jab at us again. To make some funny quips. I wanted to rip that wig off as soon as her strawberry perfume coiled around me in the warehouse. That stupid nose too. It was smart, I’ll give her that, but her hiding herself from me feels like some kind of betrayal.
Like she’s taken something special from me.
