“No,” Vinny says. “We ain’t a used car dealership.”
“Maybe with a clean title,” Tom says at the same time.
But that doesn’t work for me. I need Winslow to get the clean title, and that means splitting the profits with him.
I scuff my sneaker in the gravel at my feet. “You sure you can’t handle a hot car? I could feed them to you every day, no problem.”
Vinny shakes his head. “Nice try, kid. Anyone can steal a car. Moving it is the hard part.”
Don’t I know it.
“Besides,” Tom says. “I doubt boss’d go for it. He’s against stealing.” Tom’s dead serious. I snort a laugh that carjacking is where their boss draws the line. Not kidnapping. Not murder. Fencing cars.
They both pull ugly faces at me. I don’t like the way Tom’s still leering at my breasts. “Boss told you before, he can get a shit ton selling you on the black market. And I just noticed today you have a little cousin.”
Ice cold and lava flush through at the same time.
No he fucking didn’t.
I sense the blood drain from my face, and they both smile at my terror.
“She looks ripe, that one,” Vinny says with a sick smirk. “Perfect age. These pedophiles love the tweens. They go for the most money.”
“You stay away from my cousin,” I grit through clenched teeth.
“You get the boss his money. All his money. He’s already pissed it’s taking so long.”
My stomach is a solid rock of tension. “I’ll get it. Stay the hell away from her.” I point at them like I’m the mobster doing the shake down. The fact that my finger’s shaking probably ruins the whole effect.
It takes me two tries, but I manage to get back on my bike and ride it into the garage of my aunt’s townhouse.
I hit the garage door button, and they watch me disappear behind the closed door. I don’t cry until I hear the Lincoln drive away and all goes silent. Alone in the dark, the smell of gas and dust filling my nostrils, I gasp for breath between sobs.
Sophie, their golden retriever, woofs and scratches at the door, eager to greet me.
“Just a minute, Soph,” I say thickly, wiping my face with both hands.
The door flies open a moment later, and my cousin Rikki regards me as Sophie dashes over to dance around my feet and lick my hands. “Who were those guys?”
Oh shit.
“What guys?” I keep my head ducked, petting the dog as I walk through the door.
“The guys in the black car. They looked like bad news.”
“No, they were just asking for directions. But they probably are bad news. Don’t stop and talk to strangers like I just did. It’s not safe.”
“I know,” she says impatiently. “That’s why I was asking.”
Inside, the kitchen smells delicious, but I duck past my Aunt Jen quickly. “I’m going to shower,” I call out as I dash up the stairs.
“Okay, dinner’s almost ready,” she calls back.
“Yep. Give me five.” I go straight to the en suite bathroom between my room and Nikki’s and lock both doors.
Only then do I let myself really cry.
* * *
Six weeks before
I don’t know how I’m going to explain the fat lip and bruises to my aunt. I know it’s a ridiculous concern considering two men just wrestled me into the back of a black Escalade. They flank me now and a third calmly sits across from us, studying me.
He looks a bit like a cross between Andy Garcia and De Niro. He’s in a full tailored black suit, despite the fact that Arizona is literally located on the sun, and it’s blistering hot outside. The gaudiest gold and diamond ring I’ve ever seen is on his left pinky finger.
He raises a salt and pepper brow. “Sloane McCormick?”
“Who’s asking?” Adrenaline and fear give my words bite.
His lips twitch, but his eyes remain impassive. Cold. “I’m an associate of your father’s.”
A stone sinks down, down, down and lodges in my stomach. “I’m not sure if you’ve heard, but my dad isn’t around anymore. He… died recently.” My throat works. I haven’t seen him in over a year. Haven’t been close to him in much longer. I’ve cried all the tears that could be cried, but saying it outloud somehow makes it fresh.
“His passing is why I’m here.” He snaps his fingers and flicks his hand this way and that, and the two goons holding me in place let me go. He leans in, elbows on knee, hands folded in prayer. “Your father had something of mine—my cut, if you will—and he hid it for safekeeping. His cellmate told my guy you know where it is.”
I shake my head, confused. “All his assets were frozen—”
“This wasn’t something the Feds knew about. Think real hard, bella mia. Did he send you any letters, maybe something in code, maybe had a location on it? A number sequence?”
Ice trickles down my spine. My father sent me letters. Letters I never opened. Letters I crumpled up and sent out in the trash because I was pissed that he ruined my life.
I shake my head again, this time not looking at him.
“That’s too bad.” He sits back and cocks his head. “Such a pretty girl, you are. It will be such a travesty when you go missing.” He flicks his wrists again and a black cloth sack covers my head.
Panic surges through my veins, my vision going spotty. “Wait! Wait!” I fight the men at my sides. “I have his papers. From his office. Boxes that are in storage.” The sack is whipped off, and I suck in air like I’d been strangled. “Just tell me what you’re looking for. I’ll find it.”
He gives me a soft smile as if I’ve performed as he hoped I would. “There are six gold bars the size of your iPhone and a little oil painting of birds. It’s a rare piece done by Camille Pissarro early in his career. It’s all worth more than your life, but if you can’t find it, I’ll be happy to see what I can get for you on the black market. I know a fewer buyers who would love a pretty toy like you.”
Gold bars? A painting? Like a treasure hunt? My mind spins and pings like a pin ball bouncing back and forth, up and down. Finally, it hits and sinks in at I know a few buyers who would love a pretty toy like you.
“It’s just your luck I have to go out of the country on unexpected business. You have a few months before I’m back in the states. More than enough time, no? And while I’m gone, Tom and Vinny here will stay back and keep an eye on you. I wouldn’t want you to think of running off or contacting any agents of the law before we can reunite.”
Without another word, I’m shoved out of the SUV and land on hands and knees, the asphalt ripping open skin. I barely feel it. I’m numb. Shaking.
“And bella mia,” he calls out the open door. “I almost forgot. My condolences on your father’s untimely death.”
Chapter 3
Bo
I’m the only one in the shop Saturday morning because Uncle Greg decided he’s taking weekends off now, and Winslow is still sleeping off last night.
I’m guessing he sold the stolen Porsche because he was waving cash around yesterday, making a big deal out of buying the weekly groceries for our mom and asking what bills she needed paying off. I heard him making plans with his friend, Ben, to hit the Phoenix nightclubs last night, and he stumbled in at dawn this morning reeking of alcohol.
Cole’s not in yet, I’m guessing he’s jerking off while looking in his next door neighbor’s window to keep himself from busting down her door.
Fates know, I’m feeling the full moon.
I couldn’t sleep at all last night, and my balls were blue over another certain human.
Wilde and Austin lounge against a Buick all sweaty from their morning run. They’re the more motivated of the mini-pack I call friends—the alpha-holes. They get up and run every morning because Coach drilled the habit into us as underclassmen when we needed to keep our raging hormones from erupting into inappropriate aggression—sexual or otherwise. It works. I would totally do it, but I don’t have time with my duties a
t the shop.
As if conjured by the moon herself, a tow truck pulls up with a smashed up Mercedes behind it. And guess who’s sitting in the passenger side of the truck?
Uh huh.
Miss no-name human female who has me fucking my hand all night while I curse her gorgeous face.
“Get lost, you guys,” I growl at my friends, which of course, only makes them crank their necks to see what I’m seeing.
“Is she the Cave Hills car thief?” Wilde asks.
Stupid me, I made the mistake of mentioning her as HILF—human I’d like to fuck—when Cole was grousing about his human neighbor.
“I said, get lost.”
Those sexy long legs emerge from the passenger side door.
“Now, or I’ll fucking kill you both.”
Austin chuckles. He’s the most good-natured of all of us. There’s a reason, he’s class president and a first-class player. “Find out if she has any friends—leaving!” he laughs when I growl, and the two of them pick up their water bottles and take off.
I pick up a clean rag and stride over, wiping my hands.
“Where do you want it?” the tow truck guy calls out. I know her game. She’s bringing in the totalled Mercedes to use for the salvage title. Then she steals a matching car, Winslow swaps a few identifying parts, and voila—she has a clean title to sell the jacked car.
I cock my head and catch the eyes of Legs. “We don’t.”
Her steps falter, the swing of her hips hitches. “Winslow already knows about this.” She waves in my direction. “Is he here?”
I saunter closer. “Nope.”
I see her gaze skitter over my shoulders and across my chest before snapping back to my face. “Well, he’s going to be working on it. So where would he want it?”
I fold my arms across my chest, ignoring the tow truck driver’s impatient throat clearing. I give her a solid stare-down, pulling the alpha-wolf method of waiting until she blinks away before I jerk my thumb. “Around back.”
I’m pretty sure we don’t want all these luxury cars sitting out where people can see them. Especially not if this going to become a regular thing.
Fuck.
What is Winslow into now? This could sink us all.
I don’t move as the driver pulls the truck around back and unloads the car.
I don’t move when Legs pays the guy cash from a wad she pulls from her back pocket.
I still don’t move when she makes her way back to me.
“Sloane,” she says.
It takes me a beat to understand she’s answering my question from days before.
Right. Because now she wants something from me.
Only because the moon is full tonight, she might get it.
I stick out my hand. “Bo.”
Her handshake is firm, and the moment my skin touches hers, I feel a little drop in my stomach—like when an elevator comes to a stop.
“Are you the only one around today?”
My dick punches against my zipper, even though I doubt she’s suggesting anything. Still, her sultry voice and those long, long legs have me at a disadvantage.
Damn moon.
I play it cool, though. “Mmm hmm. Why?”
She glances around. I know she’s about to ask for a favor, I’m just not sure what flavor it will be. When she does, it surprises me.
“Can you teach me?”
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t know. The basics. How to change out an engine, or something.”
I snort and take a step forward into her space. I pick up a lock of her thick copper hair and twirl it around my finger.
I’m surprised when she doesn’t immediately toss her head to free it, but then, she wants something.
“I get it, Legs. You want to cut Winslow out of the situation. Learn to do this on your own.”
Actually, that’s not a bad idea.
This girl has the potential to ruin our lives, but as the younger brother, I’m not strong enough yet to challenge Winslow on his shit. And I’m not low enough to rat him out to pack elders.
She rubs her lips together. They are full and soft—definitely kissable.
Except I’m not imagining kissing them. I’m imagining devouring them. Biting, sucking, twisting my mouth over hers until she gasps for breath.
“There’s no situation,” she maintains.
Okay, so that’s how we’re playing this.
“Did Winslow make some dire threat if you bring me into this?” Of course he did. My brother may go off half-cocked most of the time, but there’s one thing our mom drilled into him—keep me out of it.
She needs one Golden Boy.
There’s a flicker behind her eyes. A hesitation. I’m guessing she’s not sure how to play me. Let me in to build trust or keep pretending, even though we both know it’s a lie.
I wait because I’m curious. Fuck that, I’m downright fascinated with this chick. None of her makes sense. She’s a total enigma. Rich hottie from Cave Hills is stealing cars and putting the hustle on people? It shows intelligence and ingenuity.
But I also scent a whiff of desperation in her.
This isn’t a bored, white rich girl entertaining herself with jacking cars.
There’s need wrapped in there. Some kind of trouble at the base of it.
But what could it possibly be?
She goes for acknowledging the lies with tone of voice. “Again, don’t know what you’re talking about.” She catches my hand at her hair to stop the twirling, and once more, I experience the elevator drop.
Fucking full moon.
Wolves aren’t supposed to get this horned up over humans.
“I’ll pay you.”
I don’t know why that makes my dick hard. I think it’s the husky way she says it, like she’s some rich socialite offering her pool boy money to put suntan lotion on her back. Or whatever the cliche is.
I can’t stop the upward twist of my lips. “Yeah? How much?”
I watch the calculation in her eyes and expect a low-ball. “Hundred an hour.”
I bite back the splutter of surprise. Well, I guess it makes sense—she just got the proceeds from the Porsche. She’s reinvesting her income.
“Winslow shows up, he’ll kick your ass.”
Now I see a flicker of a smile on her lips. She knows I’m going to say yes. “I’ll take my chances.”
I shrug. “Brave for such a small thing.”
She snorts. “Only you could call me small, Muscles.”
I smile down at her. She looks up at me. We’re having a moment—which is not what I wanted here. This girl is total trouble, but I’m drawn like a magnet to metal.
“I’m probably gonna get my ass kicked for this,” I say because if Winslow catches me, it’s me he’s going to whup.
“Come on.” I lead her to the garage to grab a few tools and hand her a socket wrench. “You’re going to do the work. I’ll supervise.”
A soft gust of air comes out of her. Almost a chuckle. “I’ll bet you’ll like that, too.”
“Telling you what to do? You know it.” I lead her around back. I can’t pop the hood on the Mercedes because it’s crushed closed, so I use the jaws of life and pry the fucker off. We’re not repairing this car, so it doesn’t matter, anyway.
“All right, dropping the engine.” I beckon her over to me. “First thing we do is disconnect the battery and drain the fluids.”
I walk her through it, and all the while, her scent fills my nostrils, reminding me of how it felt to have her riding on the back of my Triumph, those thighs parted behind me, those arms wrapped tightly around my waist.
I want to get those legs apart in a different way this time.
But I detect the slightly acrid smell of fear, so I give her space. She’s nervous.
I like her nervous, and I like ordering her around, but there’s a subtle line here I don’t wanna cross. On edge is one thing—actually scared is another.
She doesn’t know wha
t she’s doing, and some of the clamp bolts on the hoses are too hard for her to unscrew. I watch her struggle with one for a while before she straightens and looks over her shoulder. “Little help?”
I grin and slide off the hood of the old Mustang I’ve been working on refinishing. “I was wondering if you’d ask.”
She makes a scoffing sound. “You could’ve offered.”
“I was timing how long you’d struggle on your own. Three minutes and forty-eight seconds. Controlling much?”
I step in close to smother her affect of shocked outrage. She’s trying to hand me the wrench, but I don’t take it. Instead, I cover her hand and position myself behind her. “Your angle was wrong, that’s all.” I cage her between my two arms and lean forward forcing her to practically fold herself over the car. I want to grind my erection into her heart-shaped ass, but I resist. If I go there, I might not be able to pull back. Plus, that would actually constitute harassment. Which I’m not totally above, depending on the circumstances.
Again, subtle line.
I guide her hand to secure the bolt in the socket wrench. Truth is— it wasn’t the angle. She’s just not strong enough, but I wanted to get my arms around her. Breathe her scent up close. Keep her on edge and a little turned on.
It’s working because I detect the scent of her arousal like a heady perfume.
It makes my head swirl.
With a cock of my wrist, I pry the bolt loose and step back.
Breathe the scents of the shop and autumn air, already turning hot as the morning’s gone on.
Try to get my head back.
“Thanks,” she says softly, without turning around.
Damn Cave Hills princess and her perfect ass luring me into making a colossal full moon mistake.
* * *
Sloane
My skin prickles everywhere. I still feel his heat at my back, even though he stepped away. I don’t know what to think about this guy. He’s a cocky dick, for sure.
But so. Hot.
Last time we were together, I would’ve sworn he hated me—he blew so much scorn and derision my way. And that’s still present today. But he’s also coming on to me.
Alpha Knight Page 3