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"Dude, this is all the warning I can give. This isn't the right time. Just go."
In a few seconds, I understand why Carl’s been trying to get me out of the bar. The smell of a familiar wolf hits my nose, stirring the memories of my encounter with him. A heavy slap lands on my shoulder, followed by a sinister scoff.
"There you are!" Lawrence says behind me.
I slowly turn. Adeline's brother is as scary as he has always been with his usual cruel grin playing across his lips. He's dressed in black, a biker jacket that hides his formidable figure and a pair of black jeans with spots of blood on them.
The sight of the blood alarms me. I don't know why I think it's Adeline's. Lawrence might be returning from a kill and forgot to wipe off the blood on him. Would he be so cruel to hurt his own sister?
"Hello, Lawrence," I greet him, maintaining the calm in my voice but deep down, I'm agitated, enraged, worried about Adeline.
"I'm surprised to see you here." Lawrence takes his seat. "Most of the new guys rarely come back."
I fix him a grin. "I'm not like the new guys."
Lawrence wags a finger at me. "I've always suspected that." Then he turns to his cousin. "Hey, Carl, whiskey?"
"Sure," Carl answers, but not without casting me an 'I told you' look before moving to the shelf behind him to pick a bottle of whiskey.
"So, why are you here? You like the bar?" Lawrence asks again.
I shrug. "It's not so bad."
"I see."
Carl is now pouring Lawrence his drink but something he does angers the wolf. Lawrence slams a fist on the counter, startling his cousin and making him spill some of the whiskey on the counter.
"I've always told you, Carl, that I don't want this tumbler. Bring me the other one!" Lawrence growls.
With a quivering hand, Carl takes away the glass, muttering an apology. The scene that just played out surprises me. Carl has always looked like a guy you don't mess with, but around Lawrence, he’s a wimp like everyone else. I wonder if Lawrence is the Alpha of the pack, but I have no answer because I never asked Adeline. Her father is still alive, but has he surrendered his position to his intimidating son?
"They don't always listen," Lawrence says, massaging the bridge of his nose. "And I hate yelling at them. Do you have people who disobey your orders, Luke?"
Ha, he remembers my name, which is a bad sign because Lawrence must have a suspicion I'm here for his sister.
"No, I don't have any."
"They annoy me, you know?" Lawrence continues.
Carl is now back and he has a new tumbler, only slightly different from the former. So, what's the fuss about?
"Because I have to lead them, whether I like it or not." Adeline's brother watches me, maybe trying to gauge my reaction to his words. "This whole place, my family owns it. My dad is like this rich guy who's got a lot of people under him. When he's no more, I'll be the one in charge."
I know what he's doing. Lawrence wants to figure out who I am. He's scanning my face for any sign that I understand what his family is. They’re wolves and Adeline's brother is trying to lure me into admitting I’m one, too.
"Oh." I feign ignorance. "What does your father do?"
Lawrence sighs and takes the whiskey Carl has stopped pouring. He brings the glass to his mouth and drinks, his eyes still watching me over the rim. When he sets the tumbler down, whiskey wets his upper lip and he wipes it off with the back of his hand. I notice bloodstains on his fingers.
"He's just a businessman." Lawrence grins. "What does your father do?"
If I wasn't convinced of the innocence of that question, I’d lose it right there, pulling out my claws and slashing at the wolf's face. If Lawrence knows who I am, then he’s taunting me with that question.
But I grit my teeth to steady myself. My rage is screaming to burst out but I also bear the desire to live. The bar reeks of so many wolves and I can't possibly take them all out.
"My father is dead," I tell him. "But my mom lives in Washington. She's a fashion designer."
"Meh." Lawrence drinks from his glass again. "Women doing women stuff. That's why I don't want Adeline coming out of the house all the time. Fuck knows what goes on in their empty heads."
