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The fuck? “I’ve told you before, I don’t care for you.”
She jutted out her chin. “I don’t believe that.”
That didn’t surprise him. She seemed determined to believe only what she wanted to believe.
“I love you, Alex.”
Now that got his back up, because … “You don’t even fucking know me.”
She frowned. “That’s not true. We were together for over a month—”
“We were fucking for over a month,” he corrected. “That’s it. You don’t know me at all.” He’d say that very few people outside his immediately family did. Bree was one of them. “You don’t love me, Drina. And I don’t love you. You need to accept that; need to move on with your life. Now we’re done here.” Alex skirted around her and stalked away.
He glanced at his phone again to check the time. Shit. Bree had usually already left the jewelry store by now. It was possible that she was already gone. Cursing beneath his breath, he quickened his pace.
She’d never been followed before. It was super weird.
At first, Bree had thought her instincts were off and that her pacing feline was just being paranoid. Because, seriously, who stalked a pallas cat while surrounded by dozens of her pride mates?
Now yeah, okay, the enforcers were being somewhat discreet in patrolling the streets, easily blending in with the public, but it was really a no-brainer that there’d be some hanging around, right?
Her tail was at least ten feet behind her in the middle of the street. She’d caught a brief glimpse of him when twisting to apologize to a stranger for, just to give her an excuse to turn, accidentally-on-purpose bumping into them. He was tall. Kind of podgy. Clean-shaven. Average facial features that her cat would like to claw off.
If Bree slowed, he slowed. If she stopped, he stopped. If she sped up, he sped up. All of which confirmed that her instincts were not misleading her. She had indeed picked up a tail. And it was time to get rid of him.
Halting near the mouth of an alley, Bree rooted through her purse as if in search of something. She sensed him closing in on her and picked up a faint smell of wolf, but she kept her eyes on the contents of her purse.
Sidling up to her, he cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”
She looked his way and frowned at the cell phone he offered her.
“I just need you to take this call,” the wolf told her, his voice polite and calming. “He said you’d know him as John Jones.”
She stilled, and her feline let out a long hiss. “Did he now?”
“It’ll only take a minute.”
Curiosity pricked at her. Well, she was a cat. “Okay.” She lifted her hands as if to placate him, but it was code to any enforcers watching that she didn’t want them to immediately intervene.
Bree took the cell—a very old model that she hadn’t seen in a long while—and put it to her ear. “Hello?”
“Ah, Miss Dwyer,” said a voice she recognized. “I had hoped to speak to you in person. But after hearing about the recent attack on you, I suspect your pride mates would surround me in an instant if I were to come near you again, despite meaning you no harm.”
She wasn’t entirely sure she believed that last bit. “If you’re simply going to repeat the questions you asked last time we spoke—”
“I have information I think you’ll want.”
She felt her brow furrow. “Information about what, exactly?”
“Come to me, give me the answers I want from you, and I’ll tell you. My friend, Frasier, will bring you to me. You and I can have a little chat, and then he’ll return you to your pride.”
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth that you have info for me?”
“I give you my word, Miss Dwyer, that I’m in possession of information you’ll very much want. I also give you my word that you will be returned home alive and unharmed.”
Not freaking likely. “All right.”
“Good,” he said, his pleasure clear in his tone. “I look forward to seeing you.”
He shouldn’t. The line went dead, so she handed the phone back to the wolf.
He gestured at a Civic that was parked across the road. “My car’s right over there.”
She folded her arms. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere.”
His face went hard. “I’m afraid I can’t accept that answer. I have strict orders to take you with me.”
She’d suspected as much. “You can take me … if you can catch me.” She raced down the alley, sure he’d follow. He did, obviously thinking it would be an excellent way to corner her.
Reaching the rear of the alley, she swerved to face him.
He pulled out a gun, the motherfucker. There was a click as he took off the safety. “I really don’t want to use this but—”
