Page 74 of Ruthless Alpha

“You weren’t the only one affected by this,” he mutters, his voice much calmer. “We’re going in there together.”

I heave a resigned sigh, knowing there’s no use in trying to talk him out of it. When Madd sets his mind on something, it’s happening, whether you like it or not.

“Fine,” I grit out, stabbing my fingers into my hair and combing them through my unkempt curls. They’re even more wild than usual after that spontaneous rooftop fuck sesh- the memory of which will live in my head rent free for a long time. “But use your words, not your fists, huh?”

“No promises,” he mumbles.

“Madd.”

He blows out a slow breath, flopping his head back against the headrest and scrubbing his hands over his face. “Alright, fine. I’ll try to keep my cool.”

Satisfied with that, I nod, reaching for the door handle. I pause before pulling it open, eyes flickering back over to him. “Just… let me do the talking,” I say. “At least at first.”

Madd arches a brow, giving me a hard look. He’s never been great at standing back and holding his tongue. He’s decidedly thego-in-guns-a-blazingtype.

“Hey, you’ve got a lot of making up to do for the way you’ve treated me,” I remind him with a stern stare of my own.

He gestures wildly toward the packhouse, eyes flying wide. “Because of him!”

“We don’t know that yet.”

ExceptI do. I feel it in my bones that the person responsible for this mess is inside that house, and the anxiety of going in there and facing him down has my stomach in knots.

Madd scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief as I push open the car door.

I pause before stepping out, looking back at him. “I just need you to do this for me, okay? Things between my dad and me are complicated enough already. You can come in, but let me handle this my way.”

He grinds his molars, jaw ticking. “Okay,” he concedes, though he doesn’t look too pleased about it. I hop down from the Jeep as Madd throws open his own door, nudging mine closed with a hip and starting up the front walk.

Behind me, Madd quickly circles around the Jeep, eating up the distance between us in a few long strides until he catches up. Then we walk up to the front door side by side, my nerves mounting with each step closer. I take a deep breath as I reach for the knob, shoring up my confidence before twisting it and pushing the door open, exhaling as I step over the threshold.

My parents are in the kitchen making dinner together, and my mom swings her gaze toward the front door when I walk in, her face lighting up when she sees me.

“Sloane!” she chirps, her excited greeting catching my dad’s attention. He turns to cast a glance over his shoulder toward me as he stirs something on the stove.

“And Madd,” Mom adds brightly, offering him a warm smile. “You two are just in time for dinner, we’re making tacos.”

I meet my dad’s eyes, narrowing my own on him as I hold up my phone. “I know what you did.”

He arches a brow, giving the taco meat a final stir and removing the pan from the burner. He sets the spatula down beside it, turning around to face me. “What’d I do?” he asks calmly as he wipes his hands off on a kitchen towel.

Mom’s brows furrow as she looks between the two of us, seemingly perplexed.

I blow out a breath, moving closer with Madd right on my heels. “I know what you did to my phone,” I say, tossing it down on the kitchen island with a loud thump. My gaze slides to Madd beside me, then back to my father as I fold my arms over my chest indignantly. “Ourphones.”

Dad glances down at my phone and shakes his head, a little crease forming between his brows as they draw together. “I didn’t…”

“You can cut the crap, I already know!” I rush out, completely losing my cool. Because it’s bad enough for him to have done this, but now feigning ignorance just adds insult to injury.

Dad clenches his jaw tightly, the golden shimmers of his wolf appearing in his irises as he pins me with a harsh stare. “Sloane, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies calmly. “So before you come in here and disrespect me, I’m going to need you to be a little more clear on exactly what it is you think I’ve done to your phone.”

I throw up my hands in exasperation. “You did something to block us from contacting each other!”

My mom whips around to stare at him, mouth agape.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” Dad says with a shake of his head, showing me his palms. “I did no such thing. I wouldn’t even know how to do something like that.”

He’s putting on a convincing act, I’ll give him that. But I know it was him. Who else?

---