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“I’m surprised because you look like a fucking tool,” I retorted. He didn’t, but I gave him a hard time over the gray dress pants, the unbuttoned and rolled-up white shirt, and black dress shoes. I’d never seen the guy in anything but hunting clothes, so the fancy shit was a surprise.
“I’m a businessman, wolf boy,” he replied. “I have a closet full of suits.”
“And his best-lookin’ one is his birthday suit.” The passenger door opened with the words, and I froze as he stepped out. Beau fucking Mason. I despised the scruffy-haired, toothpick-chewing, Southern motherfucker. Dark eyes lit with amusement as I scowled at him. “How you doin’, Killy Boy? Still a feisty little fuck, I see.”
Fucking dick. The man was stupid tall for even normal people and poked fun at my height every chance he fucking got. One of these fucking days I was going to put him six feet under to prove a goddamn point.
“You brought Beau?” I demanded. “He’s crazier than you are!”
“Tell me how you really feel, baby love,” Beau replied with a grin. “Maybe this time I’ll actually listen.”
“No, you won’t,” I retorted. Beau never fucking listened.
“I reckon you’re right, but I’ll lie if it’ll make you feel better.” Fucking moron. Sure, Beau was the fucking best of the best. But his best of the best was missing a few fucking screws. “You goin’ to introduce us to your little posse, baby love? Or are you too shy?”
I fucking hated that goddamn nickname. I fucking hated the smug look on his goddamn face. And I fucking hated that Lane brought him with.
“Why couldn’t you have fucking brought Kal instead?” I demanded of Lane. “At least he’s less crazy.”
Mostly I liked Kal because he was a grumpy but fucking serious asshole. I could handle an asshole. I couldn’t handle Beau. And with everything going on, the man was going to push my temper over the edge.
“Because you don’t need Kal’s specialty for this,” Lane said.
“His specialty is torture!” I exclaimed and immediately glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one fucking heard me. I hissed, “He specializes in fucking torturing people.”
“No, no. No, no, no,” Beau interrupted, visibly offended. “I excel in torture. I specialize in fuckin’ sharpshootin’. And I’m goin’ to stay right here and hunker down with all your defenseless wolves because when that violent little thing huntin’ you figures out where the barrier is, I can climb up on that roof and sharpshoot her fuckin’ face off. Tell me you don’t need me here, Killy boy.”
“Jesus fucking Christ.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. Why the fuck did that even make sense? God, I fucking hated Beau.
“Are you going to introduce us?” Declan snapped from behind me. I turned to see all the puppy squad in waiting. Considering the duo standing at my back, my brothers weren’t intimidating. At all.
“I told you I had backup,” I reiterated one more. With a half-hearted gesture in Lane and Beau’s direction, I said, “Lane, wild magic fuck. Beau, crazy sharpshooting fuck. I work with both of them.”
“Oh, don’t lie to them,” Beau cut in. “You can tell the truth, short stack. We’re you’re favorite fuckin’ people.”
“I swear to fuck, I’ll drag your ass out to the woods,” I threatened, but Beau only laughed.
“Enough,” Lane cut in, shooting a glare in his direction. Beau shut the fuck up with a tiny salute. “You have a problem, we’re here to help. It’s as simple as that.”
“See? Simple as that,” I agreed. It wasn’t as simple as that, and from the look on Declan’s face, he agreed. “Beau, get yourself a fucking room. Lane, wait here. Declan, fucking follow me.”
The whole fucking puppy squad followed me—as expected.
“Talk.” It was the only word Declan said as he crossed his arms and glared at me. None of my other brothers looked impressed either. Well, maybe Nolan with his curious, for-research brain, but that was it.
“I’m a fucking bounty hunter,” I explained. “The agency I work for is run by a guy named Joey. Everything goes through Joey, but Lane has his own division that I coordinate with from time to time. They’re… fucking crazy, but they’re elite. They hunt shit that makes the things I hunt look tame. I’ve worked with them on a handful of cases. We need help. I need to know the lot of you are fucking taken care of. Lane and—Lord help me—Beau can make sure that fucking happens.”
“Are you serious?” Declan asked. “You say they’re crazy and you want them to stay here? With the pack? There’s already enough shit going on without you putting the pack in more danger.”
“They’re not in danger—”
“You can’t fucking tell us you don’t feel it,” Sam interjected. “Fuck, my wolf is going crazy near those two.”
And I fucking wished I could feel mine.
“They are dangerous,” I said. “They’re supposed to be dangerous. That’s the fucking point.”
“The hunter is dangerous,” Finn pointed out.
