Page 5 of Step Alpha

I steal a furtive glance at my mom who stands in the doorway of the kitchen, one hand on her swollen belly, her worried gaze on her new husband.

And yes, it’shusband, notmate. They married at a courthouse three weeks ago after Logan discovered he’d knocked her up during a full moon run a few months back. Just another reason for the pack to hate us. Everyone thinks she trapped him in an effort to raise her status.

As if Logan Woodward farts rainbows, and he’s that much of a catch.

“Well, you can sit your ass in jail and think about how you just threw your entire life away. You won’t be getting help from me.” Logan ends the call. “What is that?” He points at the chicken salad as if nothing just happened.

“Curried chicken salad.”

“I need more meat than that,” he grumbles.

“It’s literally a meat salad.”

“Rayne.”My mom opens her eyes wide in a warning.

“Sorry, but am I wrong?”

“Heat up some hot dogs, too, honey.” My mom tries to fix it.

I whirl to the fridge and pull out the hotdogs, biting my lips to avoid saying anything snarky. In fairness, he probably does need a ton more meat than I do. Fate knows my mom’s been eating twice what she used to now that she’s pregnant.

“What happened, Logan?” my mom asks softly.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear. He was arrested in a hotel in Greenville for possession of cocaine with the intent to sell.”

I literally hear his teeth grind.

I turn to face the cabinets as I rip open the package of hotdogs and dump them in a frying pan with a little water. I wouldn’t want my mom or stepfather to see how satisfying I find the scandal.

King Wilde, former WRH Football Team Captain and all-star alpha-hole, was knocked down from this throne.

I’m not sad for him.

At all.

Especially not if it means he will never return to Wolf Ridge.

* * *

Wilde

In the end, it’s Ryan who shows up for the arraignment and pays my bail. He should–he fucking owes me.

I don’t know whether the cash was his or he borrowed it. I don’t ask.

He has both our overnight bags with him–the ones from the hotel. The rest of the team will be gone by now on this morning’s flight back to Durham.

He gets behind the wheel of what must be a rental car but doesn’t start it up. Both his hands are on the wheel, and he looks straight ahead. I swear he’s tenser than I am. “Listen, we’ll get you a good lawyer. Get the charges dropped. You’ll be back on the team by next season.”

I nod, numbly. He wants me to keep my mouth shut. Keep him and his side hustle of selling snow out of my court case.

“I, uh, I don’t know what to say–”

“Don’t say anything,” I interrupt. “It is what it is.”

He gives me a searching look.

I shrug, shoving back the disgust that crawls up my throat every time I think about that phone call from my dad. Not the one I had from jail. The one that came a few weeks ago. The one where he told me he married Rayne the Runt’s mom and moved them into our house.

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