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The door to the garage opens and Thane comes in.
He looks exhausted, his eyes bleary and face lined with stress. We may all give him shit for being so serious, but unlike the rest of us, he’s out there saving the world, one patient at a time. I wouldn’t even be able to read the textbooks to get through medical school, let alone deal with everything that comes with working in a hospital every day.
Give me the football field. I don’t have to be the smartest, just the strongest and the fastest.
“Hey,” I say, going to the fridge and yanking out the plastic jug of milk. He’ll deny it to anyone outside this pack, but the key to getting Thane to unwind is chocolate chip cookies and milk. Of course, they have to be his special, gourmet cookies made from million-dollar flour and chocolate found only in the mountains of Nepal or some shit. Me? I prefer the cheap chewy ones you can buy at the K-mart, but I’ll never tell him that. If he bakes cookies for the household, I’ll eat ’em with a smile and even take the time to pour him a glass of milk.
“Thanks,” he says begrudgingly, leaning his laptop case against the kitchen island and taking a seat on one of the bar stools.
“No problem, kiddo,” I joke, ruffling his hair. “How was kindergarten today? Get into any tussles?”
Thane flips me off, but the gesture is at odds with the adorable way he dunks his cookies into the milk.
I feel like I should put cartoons on the small kitchen television for him, but I don’t think he’d be amused.
“Fine,” he says, which meansnot at all fine. “I had two new patients added to my roster. And Dr. Coffey came by again regarding the position in the cervology department. She won’t take no for an answer, no matter how many times I tell her.”
I bristle at this. I remember what Thane was like when he worked in cervology. We all do. I don’t want to see that in Thane ever again. “Are they that hard up for cervologists?” I ask in a light manner, when really, I want to coach him on the fine art of telling his boss to fuck off.
“Not at all,” he says with a head shake. “They have some amazing doctors in that department. It’s all about my name, honestly. They want the son of Drs. Woods, Woods, and Woods to join their elite team, to keep the legacy going. It has nothing to do with saving lives, and all about attracting patients to the hospital.”
I toss my empty sports bottle into the trash with more force than is necessary. “I mean, how many Dr. Woods… Woodses? Woodseses? Hell, how do you say a bunch of you guys?”
“Woodses,” answers Thane, but there is finally an inkling of a smile dancing around his lips, which was my goal the whole time.
“Okay, that. How many Woodses do they actually need in cervology? Between your mom, your dad, and your papa, and all those brilliant doctors you mentioned earlier, they’ve got more than enough to go around.”
“I’m also very good at it. I’m not being cocky.”
As if Thane could be cocky about something like that. He isn’t the type to brag at all. He’s arrogant as hell, but not about himself and his own skills. He just has that commanding Alpha presence, the one that made him naturally the leader of our stalwart group.
He lets out a conflicted sigh. “I’ve got the skill set and the educational background to make a difference. Iwasmaking a difference, I think. Maybe not in any progressive research or anything like that, but I was helping patients be more comfortable. Make informed choices. Lengthening what should’ve otherwise been very short lifespans.”
Even as he lists out what he was doing, I can see his spirit breaking, and that ghost-like Thane he used to be coming to the surface.
“Thane,” I say, taking his chin between my thumb and forefinger, fixing him with a pointed look. He swats me away with his palm, but the shadow that had taken over his face transforms into a smirk. Someone in this pack has to make him laugh, and I’ll gladly take the responsibility. “Seriously, though. You hate working in cervology. You know this. It’s not worth being miserable for the rest of your life. Just say no. Better yet, sayfuckno. It’ll feel better.”
He mutters something incoherent to himself, but the smirk is still playing at the edge of his mouth so I’m calling it a win. I don’t think I’ve convinced him either way, but I’ve soothed his angsty ass soul for half a minute. His gaze slides to the note in my hand. “What’s that you’re holding?”
I hand the piece of paper over to him. “Looks like a list Miles made of other packs that might take Riley. Do you know any of them? Some seem familiar, but I can’t place them.”
“I probably heard of most of them. My parents know everyone, and I doubt Miles would put any second-rate packs on the list.”
Thane peers down at the list and scowls. Maybe he was wrong.
“The Cooper Pack? Come on. They live in the middle of nowhere. InAlaskaof all places. Might as well stick her in a tower like Rapunzel.”
“Yeah. Although Riley does like her solitude.” I mean, if she really wants to go to Alaska, we’d have to let her. I just can’t imagine any sane person wanting to.
“No. We’re not sending her to Alaska.”
I snort and grab the note back from him and a clicky pen from the junk drawer. “All right, no Cooper Pack.” I draw a definitive line through their name. “What about the next one? The Koerstens?”
“Oh sure, let’s hand over the stray Omega to a guy that has ‘anger management issues,’ ” he says, making quote gestures in the air. “At least, according to his parole officer.”
“Anger management issues?” My eyes widen. “What happened there?”
“The Koersten Pack is from Chicago. I’m pretty sure they have mob ties, but the anger management issue—the latest one—is due to David Koersten smashing up a customer’s car that was parked outside his jewelry store.”
