The Alpha (The Pack Book 3)

by Kristin Coley

  “Okay, go over there to Hank and I’ll grab it,” I said, nudging her to the side so I could get to the car. She didn’t budge from my side though, her body remaining close as I leaned in.

  I made a quick grab for the bag, grateful it would be easy to ride with and made sure there was nothing else in the car before I turned back to her. “Come on.” I tugged her forward, catching her as she stumbled. She resisted as I pulled her closer to the body on the ground and I stopped. “Look, I know this seems cruel, but you need to see her. To say goodbye. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

  She stared at me distrustfully, those damn eyes saying too much for my comfort.

  “We need to get on the road. You need to say goodbye.” I dragged her the rest of the way, her fragile bones no match for my strength. Hank watched us, pity in his eyes as she collapsed on the ground next to her mom. She touched her mom’s cheek, tears spilling over as she whispered, “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  Hank eyed the backpack looped over my arm. “You sure?”

  “You got a better idea?” I held out my arm and he shook his head.

  “They’re going to eat her alive,” he predicted as her sobs choked off. I glanced down at her, not entirely sure he wasn’t right.

  “Better a fighting chance than no chance at all,” I replied, my eyes straying back to the road. “Let’s go,” I prodded her folded body with the toe of my boot and she tensed. She forced herself up, ignoring my hand, and reached for her backpack.

  “I can make it on my own,” she said, her voice louder but still so damn soft. “You can go.”

  “No,” I replied and turned to go back to the bikes.

  “No,” she echoed.

  “No,” I repeated. “I suggest you start moving before I have Hank carry you,” I added, striding forward. Hank made a move toward her and she scurried ahead, his large size intimidating even to grown men.

  “I can take care of myself,” she called after me, her voice cracking slightly. I glanced back, my eyebrow lifted and her chin went up mutinously. “I can.”

  “Good, cause where we’re going you’re going to need to,” I warned her, straddling my bike before grabbing the extra helmet. I handed it to her, those bright eyes wide as she studied me and shrugged the backpack onto her narrow shoulders. I turned away from her penetrating stare, my hand rubbing my neck self-consciously.

  “How do I know you’re any better than him?” She asked and the sneer in her voice when she said him had Hank hesitating to get on his bike.

  “I won’t hurt you,” I stated again but one glance at those bright green eyes and I knew my words weren’t enough. “I don’t use woman and children as punching bags and I don’t force women.” I promised, smacking my hand against the handlebars when I finished speaking. “Good enough?”

  “So, if I don’t get on your bike, you won’t force me too?” She asked, neatly catching me in my own trap.

  I closed my eyes, praying for patience, and when I opened them, I watched Hank struggle to hide a grin. “No, I won’t force you on the bike.” Relief crossed her face and she started to hand the helmet back. “However, I also won’t be leaving.” I moved to get off the bike and Hank couldn’t hold back his wide grin, shaking his head. “I’ll stay here until those douche bags come back and I’ll protect you from them. You start walking and I’ll follow you until I know you’re safe.” I crossed my arms, not missing how her eyes followed the movement, my kutte drawing tight over my chest. “Those are my terms, sweetheart.”

  “They’ll kill you,” she murmured, the words barely audible and my eyes narrowed.

  “I’m hard to kill,” I promised, wondering if my ploy was going to work. I didn’t mind staying and getting a pound of flesh for what they’d done to her, but I also knew stirring up trouble in another town wasn’t going to go over well with Johnny.

  “If you have somewhere to go, we’ll take you there,” Hank rumbled and she flinched involuntarily.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” I commented and she sent me a wounded look. I lowered my eyes, not liking the effect she seemed to have on me. “It’s up to you, sweetheart. Stay or go.”

  She jammed the helmet on her head and stomped toward me, and I settled back on the bike with a sigh of relief. The engine roared to life and I called over my shoulder, “Hold on tight, sweetheart.”

  “Its Sloan,” she retorted, the sound almost lost to the engine roar as she curved her arms around me. Her weight was barely discernable, her body almost completely hidden behind mine, but I swore I could feel every inch of her that pressed against me. I shifted, uncomfortable with the knowledge since I had a feeling she was underage.

  We eased back on the highway, her fingers tightening against my stomach as we roared away from her mom and everything she knew.

  A few miles down the road, Hank pulled into a gas station, parking around the back. I gave him a puzzled look and he gestured to the girl clinging to me. Sloan, I reminded myself.

  “Long time before we’ll have a chance to stop again. Figured the girl might want to make a pit stop.” He eyed her. “Eat something too, maybe.”

  “We’re taking a piss, you should too. We have a long ride ahead of us.” She nodded uncertainly, wobbling as she got off the bike. I reached out reflexively to steady her and she jerked back at my unexpected movement. “You want something to eat?” I asked, choosing to ignore her skittishness. Her stomach gurgled and she curled her arms around it. “I’ll take that as a yes.” I nodded to the backpack on her shoulders. “Hand it over.”

  Her eyes widened, impossibly large as she stared at me and I suppressed a sigh. “Look, I don’t trust you not to run off at the first chance. The bag is collateral. I don’t want to go chasing all over the countryside for you.”

  “Why do you care so much?” She asked, shrugging off the pack and handing it over.

  “Hell, if I know,” I muttered, taking it. “Bathroom and bike,” I said shortly, waiting for her nod. She shuffled back a few steps, eyeing me hard enough to make me think she thought I might actually take off with her worldly possessions. “Any preference on food?” I asked grudgingly.

  “Candy,” she whispered before hightailing it to the bathroom marked Women.

  “Jesus Christ, what have I got myself into,” I grumbled under my breath as I headed for the store.

  “You mean us.”

  I grunted, knowing Hank was right. Johnny would hold us equally responsible for the fiasco, and Hank was good enough to go along. “Thanks,” I muttered, bumping shoulders with him as we went inside.

  “No need. I got two daughters if you’ll recall. I’d want someone to do the same for them,” he rumbled, heading for the beef jerky. “And get her something besides candy.”

  I snorted and started scanning the racks. A protein bar and a pack of peanut butter crackers caught my eye before I grabbed a couple of candy bars to go with them. Two bottles of water and a pack of cigarettes and I was done. We piled everything on the counter, ignoring the way the cashier eyed us as I peeled a hundred off the roll in my pocket.

  “Not from around here,” he said in an attempt to make small talk and I shook my head. Hank crossed his arms over his massive belly, the kuttes we both wore marking us as outlaws.

  “Passing though,” Hank grunted, his dark brown eyes gleaming like marbles. The clerk nodded jerkily, his hands unsteady as he bagged our stuff. I nudged Hank when I saw a black sedan pull into the parking lot.

  “Look familiar?”

  “I’ll be damned. Think they’ll recognize us?” I shot him a glance and he chuckled. “Let’s try to get out of here without causing trouble.”

  I snorted and glanced back at the clerk. “You got a back door?” When he didn’t reply, I added, “I’m not asking you twice. Point us to the back door or I use you to make one.” He paled and pointed to a door that said, “Employees only.”

  “Now that wasn’t so hard,” I told him, teeth flashing. “And you didn’t see us. Comprehend?” His h
ead bobbed and I led the way out the back, glad Hank had the forethought to park the bikes out of sight. I scanned the parking lot, my fist clenching when I didn’t see her by the bike. “Son of a bitch,” I growled, thumping my fist against my leg.

  Eager to read more of Creed and Sloane’s story?

  Jailbait releases January 2019.

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