Page 149

It’s not a question.

I am going to kill Devlin.

Devlin rests against the table. “Such a sweet looking Alpha. Who’d have guessed that he’s actually a filthy gang member?”

That’s it.

He’s crossed the damn line.

I am swinging, before I have time to think.

My fist connects with the son of a bitch’s jaw with a satisfying crack.

Devlin lets out a startled howl, falling backward over the table. His arm flails outward, knocking over the baked beans, which trickle out into his beard.

I am on him in a moment, grabbing him by his shirt. He clutches onto my wrists, trying to push me away, but he can’t.

His eyes are wide with fear.

Coward.

“Don’t kill me,” Devlin whimpers. “Don’t hit me again. Don’t…”

His hat rolls off, tumbling onto the grass.

I shake him, slamming his head into the potato salad.

A dollop of pickles and mustard potatoes smears into Devlin’s perfect hair, sliding down onto his ear.

He shudders.

I smile, wickedly. “Apologize.”

“I’m sorry,” Devlin whispers.

“Louder.”

“I apologize,” he yells.

“You can do better,” I growl. “Say sorry for insulting both my Alphas. Say sorry for investigating them. Then say sorry to my crew for ruining their evening.”

He trembles. “Fuck you.”

“Fuck me?” I backhand Devlin, and his head snaps to the side. “Fight me then.”

He shakes his head. “I get it.”

“Then you’ll write an apology to all my Alphas, and you’ll promise publicly not to treat anyone in this town like that again.”

“What’s your damn problem?”

“Sadly, that I have to deal with an entitled prick like you who reckons that he should be in charge when he couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel.”

Devlin puffs up with outrage. “My pack owns more land than anyone else. We employ more people than⁠—”

“Well, ain’t you special.”

Judd chuckles.