Page 24 of Laurels and Liquor

“You’re going to mind your manners, Omega, or I’ll make you,” I state, barely holding back the compulsion of my alpha bark.

Thoroughly chastised, Seth sits back, teeth gritted and bared at me. I wish he would test me. I could use an excuse to put this bottom-feeder in his place. Unfortunately, he’s smarter than he looks, and chooses to stay silent.

“Lex has better things to do than meet with you, but she sent me to offer you a deal,” I start, settling back in my chair and crossing one leg over the other.

He rips off his sunglasses and glares at me, half surprised, half furious, judging from what I can feel at the other end of our bond. Before he can speak, I shift in my seat, recrossing my legs as I talk, opening my shoulders and tilting my head slightly to one side. Purposefully approachable body language, designed to disarm a mark, is one of the many tricks I’d learned in my years in sales.

“We both know that your options are limited right now. You can probably run for a few more months, but eventually, the shit you’ve pulled is going to catch up to you. With the charges you’ve got hanging over you, you’ll be lucky to get less than a decade, and the authorities don’t even know about the blackmail scheme you’ve been running for the last few years.”

“You don’t know what you’re—”

“Lex told us everything, Omega. There’s really no point in denying it.”

I cut across him with a roll of my eyes and a sigh. And his silence and lack of additional rebuttals is as good as an admission of guilt, if not in a court, then at least in my book. I wait for another heartbeat, drawing out the tension, making him subconsciously eager to know what I’m going to say next. I haven’t hooked him yet, so I soften my face, even smile a little. When he doesn’t speak, I continue.

“You’re going to spend the prime of your life behind bars, and a sweet piece of omega meat like you is going to get chewed up and spit out in prison,” I continue, letting myself indulge in the look of true fear that flickers in his eyes for a moment. I’ve got his attention now. Time to hook him. “But I’m here to put another option on the table, one that doesn’t involve you becoming someone’s bitch.”

I’d spent some time with Lex, preparing my pitch. When Alexandra St. Clair steps up to the table, she comes fully armed, and she’s set her sights on Seth Douglas. I’ve seen the evidence she’s collected, and it paints an absolutely watertight picture of his guilt. Every text message, voicemail, email, court transcript shows the hell he’s put her through, and us by extension, for the last four years, and the stuff she managed to track down to link Seth to the stalking and harassment Lydia had to endure is just as solid.

Seth snarls, but hesitates. The beautifully ironic thing is that he knows I’m right, even if he hates to admit it. I let him sit with that for a while, watching him try to figure a way out of this. But the little rat is trapped.

“You gonna tell me what it is, or what?” Seth snaps after several long moments of silence.

“In a few days, you’re going to go for a drive after you’ve had too much to drink, and you’re going to go off the road, where you’ll pass out and tragically perish after your car bursts into flames.”

The look of horror on his face as I speak makes nearly everything he’s put me and my pack through worth it. He reels back, shoving away from the table with a harsh screech of chair legs on tile. I can’t help but throw my head back and laugh, which stops him from bolting.

“That’s not fucking funny,” he growls, looking around again, not that anyone is paying us any mind.

“Maybe not, but I thought it was à propos, considering you burned down my friend’s home and business,” I say, still chuckling darkly.

“First,Ididn’t do that. Second—”

“One of your flying monkeys did, then bragged about it on camera. So yeah, technically, but you’re still an accessory to arson,” I interrupt, waving a flippant hand.

“Second, if you think I’m going to commit suicide willingly to avoid prison, you’re crazy,” he goes on, and it doesn’t escape my notice that he doesn’t try another denial.

“Trust me, as much as I would love for you to be the one in the car, Lex understands that’s not a very enticing offer,” I retort, finishing the last of my drink.

Seth blinks as I set the glass back down, brow pulled low in confusion. I’d tried to suggest that we actually go through with that version of the plan, but cold-blooded murder was just a bridge too far, apparently.

“We will ensure that the charred husk of a body that’s found in your car will be convincing enough. Meanwhile, you’ll be halfway to somewhere warm and sunny, a king’s ransom in your pocket, along with a new identity,” I finish, looking him dead in the face.

“How much, exactly?” Seth asks, a little too quickly.

I roll my eyes and relay the amount Lex deemed appropriate, enough to tempt him, but not enough to put us in danger of insolvency. I still think it’s at least seven digits too high, but she was adamant that her figure would be enough. And judging by how round Seth’s eyes go, she was right. He’s still thinking as my phone vibrates on the table, and I snatch it up before he can see the screen.

Lex: Going in now. How’s it going?

Me: Just laid the bait. Waiting for the bite.

Lex: He’ll take it.

Me: He’d be stupid not to.

Lex: Despite all evidence to the contrary, Seth is a smart man.

“What’s the catch?” Seth asks, drawing my attention back to him.

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