Tiger’s Eye_Bad Alpha Dads

by Kenna McClare

  Tiger’s Eye

  Bad Alpha Dads

  Kenna McClare

  Copyright © 2018 by Kenna McClare

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  For HF, because without you, this book wouldn’t be. Thank you for holding my hand and believing in me – not just now, but through everything.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Bad Alpha Dads

  About the Author

  Prologue

  “Slower, Meredith.” Catherine resisted the urge to grab the handle near the vehicle window. The girl couldn’t have been doing more than fifteen miles per hour, but it didn’t matter. She was a student driver, and that made the ride terrifying. Never mind that they were in the school’s all-but-empty parking lot, and that it would have been difficult to get in a wreck.

  “Oh my God, Cat. I’m doing like ten.” Meredith offered her a bored look. “Jimmy Keats lets me drive on 296 in his Volvo.”

  “Jimmy does what?” Catherine tore her eyes from the windshield for a fraction of a second. “I’m calling his mother.”

  Meredith snickered “I drove for like a block. No one was around. Totally safe, and we wore all the seatbelts. Chill, Cat.”

  “Don’t tell me to chill,” Cat replied sarcastically. “I’m your Big Sister, and—”

  “Learning to drive is a big responsibility,” Meredith finished.

  “Exactly.” Catherine ignored Meredith’s resigned tone. She was determined to get through this without freaking out. Meredith was nearly eighteen, and it was past time for her to get her license.

  “I’m glad you’re the one teaching me, instead of Grandma. She says she gets too nervous, and then she usually says something like ‘your dad should be doing this.’ Which would be tough for him, him being dead and all.” The girl gave her a wry grin. “So, can we hit the roads yet?”

  “Not so fast. Pull into that space first, and park.”

  Once Catherine worked up the nerve for more perilous adventures, she let Meredith ease the vehicle out onto the main road. In a quiet town like Windham, there was almost no traffic to speak of. Meredith cruised down the lane, looking far more comfortable than Catherine had her first time behind the wheel. It made Catherine suspicious.

  “Has Jimmy been teaching you?”

  Meredith had the grace to look guilty. “Uh…about driving?”

  “Yes, about driving.” Catherine laughed. “Good Lord, Meredith. This is why you make your grandma nervous.”

  Meredith giggled. “That’s what Bigs are for, right? To help us Littles?”

  “Yes, but you’re not so little anymore.” Catherine smiled fondly, recalling the day twelve years ago when she’d met Meredith at a Big Brothers Big Sisters event. The two had been all but inseparable ever since. “So, think you can parallel park?”

  The excitement that brightened Meredith’s face lent Catherine the bravery she needed to embrace the idea of such a thing. “Head back to the lot, please. We’ll try it first without obstacles,” she told the girl.

  Another hour of practice, and Meredith insisted she was ready for the test. “I studied,” she insisted. “Will you take me?”

  “I’m not sure if I can, or if it has to be your legal guardian. Let’s call your grandma.”

  Soon, the three of them were at the Department of Motor Vehicles, and not long after that, Meredith was posing for her new license picture. She’d aced the exam. I’m still calling Jimmy’s mother, Catherine thought.

  “You’re a wonder, Catherine.” Meredith’s grandmother, Joan, squeezed her hand. “Only a few hours to teach Meredith to drive! You should talk to the school and see if you can teach drivers’ ed.”

  Catherine swallowed a chuckle. “Thanks, Joan. Meredith’s a bright girl.”

  “She is. She’s a lot like her father.” Joan’s eyes were sad. “He would be so proud of her if he was here.”

  “I’m sure he would.”

  Meredith soon had her license in hand. “Look at it!” She bounced on her toes. “You know what this is? Freedom!”

  “It’s also a few hundred dollars a month in insurance,” Catherine joked.

  “Come on outside, you two. Let me take your picture. This is a big day.” Joan ushered them through the doors and posed them in front of the parking lot. “Smile!”

  “This can be our mug shot. The one they post when I steal your car and drive to Canada.” Meredith slung her arm around Catherine’s shoulder and grinned at the camera as Catherine tipped her head back and laughed.

  Chapter One

  Daniel pressed the gun into his mark’s temple. It was his least favorite part of this whole wretched business. “Last words,” he murmured.

  The man whimpered, his mouth gagged with a white handkerchief. Daniel had wound his target’s hundred-dollar tie around his eyes, obscuring his vision. Not that keeping secrets mattered at this point…he wasn’t walking out of here.

  The man whimpered again. Right. The gag. Daniel pulled the handkerchief free. His target drew a long breath, then began to blubber.

  Enough. Delaying would only make him feel worse. Daniel closed his eyes, and squeezed the trigger.

  The shot reverberated through his body, jarring his arm. Even after a decade of this sort of work, he still wasn’t immune to recoil.

  At least it was over quickly. Daniel pursed his lips as he inspected the scene for anything that would lead the cops to him. After years of practice, he knew how to cover his tracks, and would leave nothing behind to incriminate himself

  His target was a businessman who’d apparently pissed off the wrong person. Daniel didn’t know exactly who had contracted the hit. Such details didn’t matter so long as they paid the agreed-upon fee. Of course, not all of that went to Daniel. His employers took more than fifty-percent, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t want more money…what he made was enough.

  Aside from those few paltry personal details, Daniel never learned anything else about his marks, and he didn’t need to. It wasn’t personal—it was business.

  Or so he’d been telling himself for years.

  Sometimes it helped.

  There’d been all kinds. Cheating spouses, rival politicians, family elders with massive inheritable estates… Daniel had stopped caring after the first few years. Every murder had its price, and one heinous act a year kept him more than comfortable. Two let him plan for an easy future. His soul suffered, but that didn’t matter.

  He was already damned.

  Nodding with satisfaction, Daniel left the building. Once upon a time, the surrounding area might have been someone’s farm, but now all that remained was a long-abandoned structure, overgrown with greenery. The perfect spot for foul play. Days would pass before someone found the body and reported it. Another life ended, another huge deposit…another wire transfer he could send to a certain bank account.

  The night was cool, the fresh air a delight—so different from the city. He’d moved out of New York a few years ago after completing a particularly well-paying job. He still met with his employer in the city, but those meetings were few and far between, and there was no reason for him to live in
the smoggy crush of humanity—especially given how expensive the rent was. More money for the future this way.

  Daniel drew a long breath, then shed his clothes and shoes, stowing everything in a waterproof satchel he’d stashed in a shadowy nook. His gun, wallet, and all of his personal effects followed, and then he zipped the flaps shut. Naked in the moonlight, he braced to shift.

  It began with his spine. The sickening crack of bone was accompanied by his own grunts, his mind searing red as tendons split and sinew stretched. Fur sprouted as skin melted back and claws sprang from his fingers.

  It’d taken a mere minute for him to become something else…a white tiger, a creature no one expected to see in the woods of upstate New York.

  Daniel stretched, sinking into the feel of his tiger’s skin. It had been months since he’d let his cat out to play. Too long, the animalistic growl sounded within his mind. Hushing the creature, he kept his human awareness at the fore and picked up the satchel with his mouth. A mighty leap carried him into the branches of a large tree.

  It was how he left no trace, how he’d pulled off countless jobs without even a whiff of the law on his tail. His form might have been better suited to a jungle than a forest, but years of practice had him moving gracefully through the mighty oaks. A dozen miles from the warehouse, he dropped down in the soft understory on all four paws. He followed a hiking path that wound through the trees and led to a local campsite. Minutes later, he was human again, dressed, and heading back to his tent, several pictures of the stars on his camera phone. He’d set up a tripod and auto-timer to take pictures while he was gone. As far as a jury would know, he’d taken the photos himself, and hadn’t been closer than twelve miles to the warehouse where the murder had taken place.

  Not that there would be a jury. There wouldn’t even be a court case. The police would find the body, and the trail would lead them to a phantom who vanished into thin air. No bullet casings, no footprints, no blood on his clothing—modern forensics was good, but Daniel was better. In the morning, he would break camp, pack up, and drive home after a weekend of bird-watching and astronomy.

  The forest was quiet, his chilled breath rising in plumes as he hiked the three additional miles into his campsite. All was undisturbed, everything exactly as he’d left it. A fire would have been nice, but there was no reason to call attention to his location. Daniel crawled into his tent, shucked his satchel, and sat on the polar sleeping bag, unlacing his boots in preparation for sleep.

  Tomorrow, he would report to his boss and collect the payment. He sighed as he climbed into his blankets, glad to be done with the job. The nightmares would haunt him, but the person he was providing for made it worthwhile—a small consolation to his doomed soul.

  The minutes passed, but sleep didn’t come. Daniel opened his eyes, then listened intently. The night was quiet. No one nearby.

  Daniel reached into his satchel and retrieved an iPhone. Not his work phone, not even his personal cell…a model that was two generations out of date. This one was Wi-Fi only, acting essentially as a small computer. No apps or mapping programs—he’d long since jailbroken the device and disabled the GPS capabilities. Only one person had the email address linked to it.

  Daniel pressed the power button, waiting patiently for the screen to brighten. When it did, he scrolled through the photos he’d downloaded before leaving home.

  His little girl. His Meredith.

  Daniel’s mother had sent him a few new photos of his daughter, but he hadn’t found the time to look at them before leaving for his “camping” trip. Now seemed a good time, and Lord knew he could use a happy distraction.

  He didn’t go right to the newest photos, though. Instead, he started with the oldest, purposely drawing out his time with his daughter. Meredith at ten months old, her dimples deep and a three-toothed smile beaming up at him. First steps. Kindergarten. Fourth grade. The years flashed by in a matter of moments, his child growing up before his eyes.

  Without him.

  With her grandparents, he reminded himself. There was a good reason for his abandonment. A monster like him couldn’t be trusted with a child. It was better for Meredith to believe he’d died alongside her mother.

  That old pain had never healed. His heart twinged as he recalled the awful night when he’d—

  He shut his eyes and automatically shoved the memory down. The thought could try to intrude, but he was faster. Ignore. Leave it buried. Don’t revisit the past. There was no changing it, so why relive it?

  The ache lingered, though faintly now. Eighteen years helped soothe the hurts, though he doubted they’d ever stop bleeding.

  Now, he came to the newest pictures. Meredith in a dark blue, floor-length prom dress, her long brown hair hanging in curls. His breath caught, his throat tightening at the sight of his once baby girl on the arm of a gawky teenaged boy. When had she become a young woman?

  He scrolled again, then frowned at the next picture. This shot seemed more casual, with Meredith in shorts and a t-shirt, her hair in its normal ponytail. She was grinning ear to ear, and at her side stood a woman Daniel had never seen before. Her arm circled Meredith’s waist, her face bright and caught mid-laugh. Who was she?

  A teacher, perhaps? Meredith was a high school senior this year. There was nothing else to clue him in to the identity of this mystery woman, or what occasion might have warranted the picture. They stood in a predominantly empty parking lot. Neither wore makeup, and both had simple hairstyles and wore sneakers and shorts. The mystery woman, though…she was beautiful. Daniel stared, absorbing her features. She was well-shaped, with a slim waist and hips that gently flared. Her auburn hair shone in the sun, gleaming like a fiery waterfall. Her face captivated him most, though, especially her eyes. Not the color, but the joy within them. Even on the tiny screen, they shone with happiness.

  Daniel finally shrugged it off. Whoever the woman was, she couldn’t have been very important—this being the first time he’d seen her picture. Putting her out of his mind, he slipped the phone into his satchel and fell asleep.

  He woke with the sun, broke camp, and headed home to shower and change before catching the train into the city. A skyrise in downtown Manhattan was his destination, and it wasn’t quite eleven a.m. when he presented himself to the receptionist.

  “Mr. Page. Welcome.” She smiled at him, and Daniel briefly raised the corners of his mouth in return. He sat without a word, lifting a magazine from the table and randomly flipping it open.

  “Mr. Dearborn is with another client at the moment. May I offer you coffee? Water?”

  He shook his head. “I’m good. Thanks.”

  The receptionist took the hint and returned to her computer. Mr. Dearborn, Daniel chuckled to himself as he turned the pages. That was amusing… Daniel wondered if the desk girl knew her boss headed a ring of stone-cold assassins.

  A few more minutes passed before John’s door opened. Daniel glanced up from his magazine, and nearly choked on his next breath.

  There, standing next to his boss, was the man he’d killed last night—laughing, smiling, and very much not dead.

  Chapter Two

  For a moment, Daniel could only stare, his mouth dry and his heart in his throat. Ronald Atkins, the mark he’d left lying in an abandoned barn. He’d put a bullet in Ronald’s skull and splattered the concrete with his blood. His eyes had been empty, his breathing stilled, his voice silenced. Daniel had made sure of it.

  Yet, here he stood, alive and well, shaking hands with John Dearborn.

  “Miranda, show our guest to Mr. Winter’s office,” John said with a friendly smile. “So nice of you to drop by, Mr. Atkins. We’ll get this taken care of for you.”

  “Right this way,” the receptionist said with an unwavering smile.

  The “dead” man winked at John, then followed her out of the small lobby, his hands tucked into his suit pockets. For someone who’d been dead twelve hours ago, he certainly seemed relaxed.

  “Daniel. Co
me in.” John strode back into his office, leaving Daniel to collect his scattered thoughts. It took a few seconds for him to shake off his astonishment and follow his boss through the door.

  John slid the bolt, then faced Daniel with a frown. “Last night?” he asked in a clipped tone.

  “I killed him,” Daniel stated in an edgy voice. “I put a bullet through his temple. He was dead.”

  “He’s walking,” John said. “So, either you’re lying, or the bastard’s related to God.”

  “He’s fucking Jesus, then,” Daniel snarled. Deep within, his cat stirred, but he took a breath, attempting to soothe the creature into submission. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, John,” he managed after a moment. “But I killed him. Would I have showed up today to collect my payment if I hadn’t ensured the job was done?”

  John looked at him a moment more before ambling back to his desk. “He wants a meeting with you.”

  Daniel’s heart lurched. “What for?”

  John shrugged. “He didn’t say. But he knows about the organization. And he isn’t going to the cops.”

  “Christ, John.” Daniel’s tiger yowled its displeasure. “You let him walk out of here and you think he’s not going to the cops?”

  “He’s not leaving this building alive,” John snapped. “The contract specified death by five o’clock today, and now’s your chance to fix it. So, watch your tone.”

  The feline within prowled, restless and raging at the implication that he’d screwed up. Daniel swallowed several times, fighting with himself. His boss didn’t seem to notice, though a scowl darkened John’s brow. He opened a drawer of his desk and flipped through a stack of files.