4

  GREY

  She shouldn’t have run. That’s what I tell myself as I carry her unconscious body to the car I’ve hidden down the road. If she hadn’t run, I wouldn’t have chased her. And she might not have passed out from the shock of watching my wolf nearly mow her down. Then again, any normal she-wolf would have known running was the most dangerous thing she could have done with a beast like me at her heels. More than that, any normal she-wolf dumb enough to run would have at least shifted to capitalize on the extra speed her wolf would offer. There’s no way she could ever outrun me on foot.

  But Lexi didn’t shift, and even now, I can’t scent her wolf on her at all.

  It’s like she’s nothing more than human.

  If I hadn’t been nearly skin-to-skin with her earlier and felt the powerful animal inside her, I would be wondering if I’d gotten the wrong girl. But even through my own lust back at that club, I’d sensed her wolf buried deep. There was no mistaking her nature then. Even if I can’t sense it now.

  It’s just another mystery to solve, not that it matters for what we have planned for her. Hell, if she never shifts, it’ll probably make things easier on her. Not that I have any right to care what’s easier for her considering I’m locking her in a trunk and driving off with her.

  She doesn’t stir as I gently deposit her into the trunk of the car I chose for this mission. It’s the least flashy option compared to the others my father apparently kept stored for me all these years, but it also has the roomiest trunk. Her small frame fills the entire space, and I frown, knowing she’s going to be cramped when she wakes.

  With the lid still open, I press my fingers to her throat, checking to make sure her pulse is still strong and her breathing is still regular. Her skin is soft beneath mine, and I can’t help thinking what it would be like to run my hands over it as she straddles me, grinding against me, all that hair draping us like a curtain. Satisfied her vitals are good, I go to work binding her wrists and feet. She’s unlikely to free herself from the trunk, but I’ve learned over the years to never assume Plan A will work.

  When I’m finished, I catch myself studying her mouth like it’s some sort of eighth world wonder. Her bottom lip is slightly fuller than the top. I have no idea why that’s so enticing.

  Fuck.

  I do not need this kind of distraction.

  Yanking my gaze away, I step back and close the trunk, rounding the front of the car.

  There’s a change of clothes on the passenger seat, so I put them on quickly and then slide behind the wheel. The suit is no real loss. In fact, it’s one of the things I was more than happy to leave behind when I left this life. Now that I’m back in it, the wardrobe requirements are as stifling as they’ve always been. My father always did care more about perception than reality. For now, I wear the black pants and matching t-shirt that have become my uniform since I’ve been away.

  Grabbing the keys from where I stashed them in the visor, I start the car. The night is silent around me, so the engine coming to life sounds louder than it should, but my wolf senses tell me there’s no one around to hear it.

  I check my phone. Three messages, all from him.

  Ignoring them, I put the car into gear and ease onto the road, keeping my headlights off as I pass the club on my way to the main highway up ahead. The two cars from earlier remain in the lot. One is hers. If it mattered, I could move her car somewhere they’d never find it. Give myself a bigger lead on getting her far away. But I don’t need it. They’ll never find her where I’m taking her, and there’s not really anyone to look anyway.

  I watched her for two days, which was more than enough time to realize she’s pretty much alone in the world. Behind on her rent, one friend she keeps at a distance, and all her free time spent at a homeless shelter for runaway teens. If she weren’t my enemy, I’d feel sorry for her shitty circumstances. Regardless of her family name, she deserved a hell of a lot more than Franco Giovanni ever gave her. But that’s not my problem, nor is it my business.

  My phone vibrates with an incoming call, and since I already know he won’t stop until I answer, I hit the button to accept.

  “Yeah,” I say quietly as the call goes live on the car’s Bluetooth.

  “How’d it go?”

  “I got her,” I say.

  He exhales in relief. It’s clear he doubted I’d come through. I don’t take it personally. My father doubts everyone except himself, a trait he apparently passed on to me.

  “Don’t act so surprised,” I say mostly to rile him.

  “How far out are you?” he asks.

  “A few hours. I’ll text you when we get close.”

  “Is she subdued?”

  “She’s out,” I confirm. I don’t tell him she passed out from shock rather than the drugs he supplied.

  “Good. Call me if there are any issues.”

  “There won’t be.”

  He grumbles at that, but I disconnect the call before he can keep going. Next thing, he’ll ask me to alert him every time I piss or breathe. Not for the first time since being summoned home, my chest aches with the sense of entrapment. My father expects me to pick up right where I left off—well, that and to act like he’s saved me from some horrible fate by forcing me back home. The asshole can’t imagine any life better than the one he’s provided me.

  I don’t need to imagine. For the last few years, I lived it. A life where I didn’t answer to a cruel monster who cares only for himself and nothing for the people he hurts. A life where I got to decide what and who to fight for. For five years, I finally had my freedom. And the moment this mission is over, I plan to go right back to it again.

  The highway traffic is light, thanks to the late hour. I opt for silence instead of music as my tires eat up the road. It’s almost peaceful out here—if you don’t count the felony I just committed or the war waiting for me back home.

  Maybe my father’s right to be surprised I came through for him. I damn sure didn’t want to. But I’ll never be free of him if I keep running, which I can admit is what I’ve been doing for years. It’s time to stop running and face what I am. What I’m supposed to become. Even if it means doing something like this to someone like her.

  My phone vibrates again, but this time when I see the caller, I answer it without the pit in my stomach.

  “Dutch, what’s up?” I say.

  “How’d it go, brother?”

  “Fine. I’m on my way back now.”

  “No hiccups.”

  “Easy day,” I assure him.

  “The old man must be pleased as punch.”

  “He’s shocked I’m capable,” I say, and he chuckles darkly.

  “I’ll bet. You’re bringing home the Ace this family’s needed in their hand.”

  “She’s not a poker chip, Dutch. She’s a fucking person.”

  He’s silent for a beat before he asks pointedly, “And is this person attractive?”

  “Fuck you,” I grumble, and he chuckles, unbothered by my response.

  “What? I saw the picture the old man gave you.”

  “That was taken two years ago, wise-ass.”

  “That’s why I’m asking for a status update.”

  “Is there something else you needed?” I ask, though I know full well he’s not going to stop giving me a hard time about this. Dutch is my second cousin on my mom’s side, but he’s more like a brother at this point. He’d do anything for me—even help me leave the family in the dead of night so that I couldn’t be tracked down again for four full years.

  My dad will never forgive him for helping me, which means his career in this family is fucked unless I come back to stay and help him move up the ranks again, which is the last thing I want to do. He doesn’t seem to care, though. Dutch is solid like that.

  In fact, he’s already made it clear he’s loyal to me, no matter what my old man thinks. Starting with the fact that he’s reporting to me directly instead of my father with every order he’s been given since I stepped foot back inside the borders of Indigo Hills.

  “We found the guy I told you about. The one feeding Franco intel.”

  Apparently, Dutch discovered a rat a few weeks ago. He took it to my father first, but the old man’s too cocky to worry about someone being able to get to him and told Dutch not to worry about it. So, Dutch came to me, and I gave him the green light to investigate. My father’s big head’s going to be his downfall if he’s not careful because, apparently, Dutch was right all along.

  “That was fast,” I say.

  “It’s the only thing I’m fast at, don’t worry.”

  I shake my head. “You got a name?”

  “Trucker.”

  “That piece of shit,” I snarl.

  “You remember him?”

  “How could I forget? He’s one of our oldest captains. Asshole’s always been a bit big for his panties. Thinks he should be running shit instead of my old man.”

  The prick also didn’t like to take no for an answer when it came to the ladies, which deserved an ass-kicking far worse than ever betraying the boss did if you asked me.

  “What do you want me to do?” Dutch asks, grunting his agreement of my assessment.

  “Bring him in,” I say. “See if you can find out if we have any other rats on our end.”

  “You don’t think he’s working alone?” Dutch asks.

  I snort. “He’s not smart enough for that.”

  “You got it. I’ll call when we have more.”

  “Thanks, Dutch.”

  “Don’t mention it. Listen, I know it’s not what you wanted, but I’m glad you’re back. We’ve missed you around here.”

  “I missed you too, man.” That part, at least, isn’t a lie.

  “Aww.” He pretends to sniffle, and I grin. “Okay, that’s enough sappy shit,” he declares. “I’ll check in soon.”

  I shake my head.

  “Later,” I say as the call ends.

  In the silence that follows, my thoughts drift from Trucker to Franco and then back to my father and his master plan that sent me out here in the first place. Lexi Giovanni, the long-lost princess, now a bargaining chip in the biggest bid for power the mafia pack has seen since its inception.

  I still can’t believe Franco’s heir has been shaking her tits at a strip club. No, not shaking them, I realize. Not until tonight. Not for anyone but me.

  At first, I’d thought her friend was just saying that to flatter me. To make my tip bigger. But one look at Lexi’s hesitation and I knew it was true. I was her first.

  Just the memory of her on my lap makes me hard all over again.

  I shake it off, trying like hell to forget, but it’s impossible. It’s not just her hot-as-sin body or the way she moved it against mine. Despite how badly she needed that money I offered her, she hadn’t been afraid to tell me to go to hell. In fact, even though she’d given in and danced for me, and even though I knew she wanted me as badly as I wanted her, something about the way she looked at me made it clear she was still in charge of herself. That her boundaries meant more than her desires. Damn if I don’t respect the hell out of that.

  Lexi isn’t what I expected at all.

  Then again, I’m sure I’m not what she thought either. Or I won’t be, once she wakes up and realizes what I’ve done. The idea of her hating me bothers me more than it should, and I grip the wheel tighter as I let the inevitable play out in my mind. Her waking up, finding out who I am, what I intend to do with her.

  Dammit.

  I might have taken her to make her a pawn in my father’s war, but one night in her company and I know she’s so much more than that. She doesn’t deserve what’s going to happen next. And even though it makes me an asshole of the worst kind, I’m doing nothing to stop it.

  5

  LEXI

  I come awake slowly, some part of my brain convinced I’m hungover. It makes sense at first. My muscles are tight, my joints stiff, and my thoughts are hazy. But the moment I open my eyes and see the strangeness of my surroundings, I know alcohol has nothing to do with this nightmare.

  The space I’m in is small and confining, the air thick and musty. Beneath whatever box I’m trapped inside, I sense movement. The kind of speed that comes from four wheels. A car.

  Shit. That means I’m in a trunk.

  I open my mouth, ready to scream for help when common sense prevails. If we’re moving, that means whoever’s driving is not interested in helping me. In fact, it’s the opposite.

  Whoever’s driving is taking me.

  I need to be smart.

  My thoughts shift to how I ended up here. The last thing I remember is being chased by a wild wolf. No, wait. The last thing I remember is watching that wolf shift into a man. A naked, muscled, chiseled, hot-as-sin man whose erection I teased only hours prior.

  It’s like something straight out of Twilight—if Twilight had taken place at a strip club and the wolf pack had been well-dressed kidnappers.

  But werewolves can’t possibly exist. This is real life.

  Ugh.

  Except that I know what I saw. And the reality of such an impossibility makes my head swim—which is exactly the kind of pansy-ass reaction that landed me caught in the first place. I can’t afford that shit again.

  Forcing myself to remain calm, I inspect the tiny space I’m curled inside. My wrists and ankles are bound with heavy cord, which explains the tight muscles and stiff joints, but I do my best to feel around for some kind of way out. I read somewhere once that all trunks have an emergency release button inside them, but after a full exploration of the space, I find nothing even close.

  Fear threatens to send me spiraling as I force myself to look for another option. Running my hands along the wall, I find a small gap. Shoving my fingers through, I realize it’s an opening between the back seats. Not that getting into the car with my kidnapper is a great plan, but it’s the only one that gets me out of the trunk, and I can’t just do nothing.

  Shoving as hard as I can against it yields no movement.

  Determined, I twist and contort my body, moving around so I can position my feet against the seat back. Using all my strength, I kick at the seat with both feet and am rewarded when the seat finally collapses forward.

  Without wasting a second of the element of surprise, I hurl myself through the opening and into the backseat of the car.

  Through the rearview mirror, my eyes meet those of my kidnapper. He registers only a hint of surprise and then veers off the road so suddenly that I’m tossed sideways against the door. Grunting from the impact, I struggle to right myself and twist so I can reach for the door handle. But he slams on the brakes, sending me faceplanting against the back of the driver’s seat. Pain explodes along my cheekbone, and I jerk upright again, pissed off as well as terrified.

  He climbs out of the car and wrenches open my door, his stormy eyes narrowed and full of threats.

  “Get away from me.” I shrink away from him, but he snags my wrists and yanks them toward him. With his other hand, he produces a sharp blade.

  I struggle harder.

  “Stop fucking moving.”

  Despite my fear, the sound of his voice sends a shudder through me that’s more pleasure than panic.

  I shake the thought off.

  What the fuck, Lexi. He’s a kidnapper.

  He reaches out and cuts the bindings on my ankles then does the same to my wrists.

  I cradle my hands, rubbing at my sore wrists and studying him with mixed feelings. Cutting me loose is a good thing… unless it’s only going to lead to worse things.

  “Don’t fucking try to escape,” he warns.

  “Or what? You’ll drug me again?”

  “I didn’t drug you,” he says, and I’m about to argue when he adds, “yet.”

  Behind him, night has cloaked the lonely highway in complete darkness. There’s not a single other car in sight. Far in the distance, a shadow of mountains looms, and I try to figure out where I am, but it’s not enough to go on. Lakeland is already smack dab in the center of the Blue Ridge Mountains, and we clearly haven’t left the area entirely.

  “Do you promise to behave if I let you ride up front?”

  I don’t answer.

  He straightens and steps back, letting me climb out of the backseat.

  The moment my feet hit the gravel shoulder, I start running.

  Unfortunately, my bare feet are no match for the sharp rocks, and my run turns instantly to a pained limp.

  He catches me immediately, wrapping one strong arm around my waist and lifting me clear off my feet like I weigh nothing at all.

  I open my mouth to scream, but he covers it with his other hand. I breathe in the scent of his skin, hating how much I like it. My body reacts like the traitor she is as the memory of being this close to him earlier tonight slams into me. How much I’d wanted to give him more than a lap dance.

  Now, he’s going to take whatever he wants, whether I give it or not.

  Backtracking to the still-open car door, he sets me on my feet but keeps his arm wrapped firmly around me. His hand releases my mouth, and I suck in a breath before screaming again.

  “Help!”

  Something sharp pricks my neck, the unexpected pain cutting off my scream. A second later, the pain is gone, and the stranger is tucking something away then adjusting his grip on me.

  “What the hell was that?” I demand.

  “Relax. It’s not going to hurt you.”

  “Liar.”

  The hand around my waist spins me so that I come face to face with my captor, my back against the open car doorframe.

  In the darkness, I look up into a pair of glacier blue eyes that are filled with fury as they glare down at me. His full mouth is downturned into a frown that borders on a snarl, and my heart races at all the things he’s probably going to do to me now.

  “I have a sexually transmitted infection,” I blurt, fear making me babble on. “You don’t want to touch me. You’ll get a rash, and it’s gross, and you’ll be sorry and—”