I hear Sam and Kole curse, their footsteps quickly moving towards us, and I grit my teeth as he grabs me, holding my body in front of him. “If you shoot me, you’ll hit her! And if you try to come near us, I’ll squeeze until her eyes pop out!”
So fucking dramatic.
The sound of a van door being thrown open has my eyes darting to the pizza van, and I spy West and Hayden sprinting towards us.
Guess we’re just abandoning the plan altogether.
My guys stare at me, horrified. Do they really think I’ll let this jackass get the better of me?
I will not be used like a fucking meat shield. “Fuck you, asshole.” My upper arms are restrained by his, but my fist still has my knife in an iron grip. There’s nothing to stop me as I plunge it into his thigh, his scream ringing in my ears as he releases me in shock. I turn, and in one swift move, slit his throat.
His eyes go wide as his hands fly up to his neck, trying and failing to keep the blood inside his body. It even splatters me across the face, which is pretty annoying, but when he falls to the ground, I feel nothing but relief.
They’re all dead.
I’m staring down at his body, my chest heaving with each breath, when I realize it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Fucking hell. This is not the kind of impression I wanted to give the Original Sam—new name pending—for his first time meeting me.
Still facing away from them, I try to wipe myself off the best I can, but I can’t seem to get the blood off my hands.
Well, it’ll have to do.
Pulling off my cap, I try to smooth down any flyaways. When I’m sure I look halfway presentable, I take a deep breath, turn to the house, and put on my most charming smile. I reach the porch, holding out my hand to Samuel Senior, who looks like he doesn’t know whether to congratulate me or send me to the madhouse. “Samuel, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jo, your new daughter-in-law.”
Samuel’s eyes dart to my blood-stained hand, then back up to my eyes before he stares at his son in bewilderment.
Dammit. What if he doesn’t like me? What if a blood-covered, knife-wielding omega isn’t what he had in mind when he imagined who his son would end up with?
But he must find something in Sammy’s expression, because when Samuel’s gaze lands back on me, his face has softened.
He reaches out and takes my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Jo. Though, we’re going to have to find something else for you to call me. I’m not that fond of my full name.”
My smile widens. “I knowexactlyhow you feel.”
three
Sam
“You know I appreciate what you and your pack did, Sam, but I’m not going anywhere.” Dad stares at me, his arms crossed over his chest.
After Jo introduced her blood-stained self to my dad, we moved the bodies out of sight, called Declan for cleanup, and went inside Dad’s house. He’s now pouring himself a cup of coffee like nothing in the last thirty minutes has happened.
The guys and Jo are waiting in the living room while I try to convince my dad that he needs to come with us.
“Dad.” I run my hand over my face in frustration. If we don’t get out of here fast, Xavier will figure out what went down andsend more men our way—we’ll be sitting ducks. “He’s trying to use you to blackmail us. More men will be here as soon as he figures out his old guys are dead. He might just come right out and kill you as a punishment for double crossing him. Youneedto come with us.”
“And where exactly will you take me that this…Xavier fellow can’t reach?” Dad grabs his coffee from the counter, taking a sip. He looks unshaken, but I can tell he’s on edge just by the fact he’s having coffee at four in the afternoon.
“Can I interrupt?” Jo’s sweet drawl comes from the kitchen entryway. She’s washed her hands in the bathroom, and her hair is now down and pulled over her shoulder.
“Please do,” Dad snorts, waving his hand at the coffeemaker. “Coffee?”
“That would be lovely.” Jo smiles, and Dad grabs a cup before pouring her some from the carafe.
This is one sight I never thought I’d see—Jo Harding and my dad sharing a cup of coffee in his kitchen. Dad’s flannel does nothing to hide his bulky frame, the same one I inherited. He’s always stressed the importance of being able to defend yourself, so it really shouldn’t surprise me that he’s kept himself in shape all these years.
“Any cream or sugar?” he asks, suddenly the perfect host.
