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“Appears so.”
“Well, you better say something to her, or I will,” he growls.
“Don’t worry about it. I'll handle it,” I tell him, pulling my phone from my pocket and sending Everly a text.
'Where are you?'
It takes her a few minutes for her to reply.
'Work, where else would I be?'
'Didn’t happen to stop by the library today, did you?'
'No, been at work all morning, us rogues have no need for books. We aren’t entitled to an education.'
I briefly wonder what the meaning of the last part of her message is. I have no doubt it's to have a dig at me about something out of my control.
'Next time you want to vandalize my Beta’s car, check for security cameras. I have a very pissed-off Beta to deal with because of you.'
'Well, tell him I am sorry his Alpha is an Asshole. I thought it was yours. I will double-check next time.'
'There will be a next time?'
'…. Depends'
'You are playing games with the wrong person, Everly, you won’t win.'
'$50k in my bank account says otherwise. But get this: you paid $35k too much; the rogue school says thank you for your considerable donation to their play equipment. Would you like mini sausage rolls and party pies to go with your frankfurts and fairy bread?'
'I would prefer you, served on a silver platter. Think you can organize that?'
'I prefer gold.'
'Gold it is then.'
'Dreaming!!!'
'Only of you. So, would you like to come and apologize for your misjudgment? I accept all kinds of begging, sexual favors, but it could all be forgotten and forgiven for a simple mate mark?'
'Hard pass. Beta Marcus should choose his friends more carefully, and his cars, apparently.'
Beta Marcus? How does she know my Beta’s name? I know he's in the public eye a lot, but he's never mentioned by name. And the rogue school? We have rogue schools, sure, but why would she give them so much money?
I need to check out this rogue school her friend’s kid goes to. Maybe generosity is the way to get in her good graces. But first, I must get even for my grumpy Beta. I doubt me giving money away to the rogue school would be a good enough punishment for him.
“Why are you smiling like an idiot, Valen? What about my car?” says Marcus—his anger clearly hasn’t evaporated.
“Send it for detailing,” I tell him, waving him off. Marcus growls as I start dialing Richard’s number. He works at the city’s police station and is usually on highway patrol.
“Yes, Alpha?”
“Hey, Rich. I have a favor to ask.”
ChapterThirty
Everly
We're just pulling out of the hotel to go pick the kids up from school. I managed to find an old photo on the internet today of Alpha Valen when he was a teenager—hopefully that will quell Valarian’s burning curiosity and the questions he has about his father.
