“Let me know if you come up with a better pickup line!” Mandy yelled back.
They filed into the house, with Jeffrey still clinging to Celeste.
Taylor shook her head. “I swear. I love Mandy to pieces, but what is up with that girl? All this time she’s acted like a ditz who lives to shop and party, but she’s also the Terminator with fangs.”
“I know.” Grant nodded somberly. “Something doesn’t add up. I should have seen it a long time ago.”
Celeste glanced after Mandy. It was true. Something didn’t add up. But what? Mandy had just risked her life to save Jeffrey. But she was hiding something.
“Well, here are a few things that are adding up now,” Cliff said to Grant. He glanced at Celeste, and raised an eyebrow at Jeffrey.
“Right,” Celeste said. “Jeffrey, let’s go get you into a shower – there’s blood all over your face from you biting that guy.”
Cliff waited until they’d left before he started talking. “I did some research on what happened around the time you were dating Jennifer. Apparently, our father kidnapped you right before Jennifer told you she was pregnant. While he was holding you prisoner, Jennifer was sending messages to your phone telling you she was pregnant. But Dad had your phone, so he got her messages. Our dear father contacted her himself, sent her ten grand, and told her to get rid of the baby and send him proof, or he’d kill her.”
He looked Grant in the eye. “I never knew. I had nothing to do with this.”
Grant hesitated, his expression stormy, looking lost in thought. Then finally he said. “Yeah. Sounds like Dad. And I believe you. Mostly.”
“Mostly?” Cliff said indignantly.
“I don’t know, man, you’re always manipulating things behind the scenes. Like with Austin. Something doesn’t sit right about how you got Dad to send him away. Dad had been beating him for years. Why the sudden big rush?”
“We’re talking about you now, not Austin.” Cliff had neatly dodged the issue, Grant noticed.
“We also found out why you didn’t get any of the messages from Celeste, telling you about your son. You know Yasmine? The girl who’s been molesting you with her eyes every time you walk by?”
Grant’s lip curled in disgust. “Yeah, I had to have Mandy chase her off a few times. Forcefully.”
“She threw away every message that Celeste left you. Also a bunch of messages from other girls who were leaving you their phone numbers, measurements, room numbers and lists of their favorite sexual positions.”
Taylor looked appalled. “Jeez. I kind of understand now why you had all those fake girlfriends.”
“Thank you,” Grant said. “See, I’m not a total freak.”
“I didn’t say that,” Taylor said. She looked at her mate. “Did I say that?”
Cliff shook his head, looking fondly at her. “No, you did not. Nor should you.”
“Do women leave you their phone numbers?” Taylor narrowed her eyes at her mate.
Cliff scoffed. “Since I’ve been with you? They know better. But even before I met you, they didn’t flock to me like they do my dear brother. I guess I don’t have that come-hither look like he does.”
Grant answered him with a growl.
“I’ll assume that translates to, I’m sorry I was an asshole before, and thanks for looking out for me,” Cliff said. “You should come back to the lodge with us. Our helicopter’s waiting on the pad out back. Just fly back here when you have court appearances. It’s not safe here anymore, for you or for your son. You’re still part of our pack.”
Grant took a deep breath. He still didn’t completely trust his brother. But what choice did he have?
Chapter Eleven
A suite of rooms was waiting for them back at the lodge, now that Grant had Celeste and Jeffrey with him.
Their first night there, Grant never let Celeste and Jeffrey out of his sight. Celeste and Jeffrey slept on a queen-size bed, and when Celeste woke up in the middle of the night, Grant was sitting in a chair, working on his laptop and watching them.
“You can go to sleep,” Celeste called out to him. “We’re in a building full of werewolves. We’re a four-hour helicopter ride from Somerville. I think we’re safe here.”
“Sleep’s over-rated.” Grant winked at her and went back to typing.
