4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Cujo
Rubbing my temples, I listen to the balding beta blubber as he recounts his story.
Pathetic. Stop crying.
“T-They told me to g-g-get into the back room. Then they b-broke the case and glass went everywhere…” For someone who doesn’t even have a scratch on him, he’s doing an awful lot of moaning.
The Hellbent Hounds MC is responsible for protecting most of the businesses in Broken Ridge, Texas. We’re rarely needed, but this territory is our home, and we don’t allow any bullshit to happen here.
And this is definitely bullshit. Someone’s going to feel pain when I find them.
Not just one, but an unknown team of assailants hit three stores last night. According to the local sporting goods store, the guys wore all black and had no identifying markers. They were looking for guns and ammo, which makes me even more concerned.
As the Sergeant-at-Arms for the MC, it is my job to make sure everything runs smoothly, and this is not fucking smooth.
My eyes dart around the space, taking in every inch of destruction.
Most of the store remains unscathed, but the glass weapons case is shattered beyond repair.
There are several missing rifles, handguns, and buckets of ammunition.
All the leftover firearms are destroyed, dented, and cracked in half.
Doing something like that takes an abundance of strength.
Alpha-level strength? I take it all in, noticing the details.
Unsurprisingly, the cash is missing from the till, and the hunting gear is the only other area that’s been disturbed.
“What did you stock on these shelves, Mr. Benson?” I point to the top rack above the camouflage clothes.
“There were some deluxe tents,” he says, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “I’m pretty sure I had three up there. There aren’t any left.”
Well, that’s new information.
I glance over at Fenrir, one of my enforcers. Our eyes meet, and we’re both thinking the same thing. This wasn’t a group of silly kids trying to steal a little cash. No, this situation is much worse, much more sinister. Guns, ammo, money, and shelter—just what you need to cause mayhem.
Something bad’s coming to town.
“Mr. Belson, did you get any scents or information off them?” I have a feeling his answer is going to be the same as everyone else’s, but it’s still worth asking.
“N-no. It all happened too fast. One minute, I was cashing out, then the next, there was a gun jabbing me in the back, and I was being shoved into the storage room. T-they locked me in there.” He sniffles again, and irritation prickles under my skin.
Why in the world did Pres send me here? He should have made one of the grunts get this information. I’m the muscle, not the hand-holder.
I don’t comfort people; I destroy things. Break things. Kill things.
“We’ll take care of it.” I drop a stack of cash on the table, and he stares at it in confusion. “To help until your insurance comes through.” It’s all I can do. I jerk my head toward the door and head out with my brothers at my back.
“I’m not sure who’s come to our slice of paradise, but they’re about to find out that you don’t fuck with the Hellbent Hounds,” I grunt as soon as we clear the doorway.
My hand slides under my leather cut until the cool metal of my ballistic knife slides against my palm. It brings me comfort to know the weapon is there and ready to do some damage.
“The tent grab makes me think they’re hiding in the area.
” Garmr reaches into his pocket, grabbing a pack of cigarettes and pulling one from its sleeve.
He doesn’t light it. Instead, he tears it into little pieces and tosses it in trash cans as we walk down the street.
It’s one of his tells, letting me know he’s analyzing the situation.
“Should we send the prospects to check out the local campgrounds?” Fenrir pipes up.
Our Harleys gleam. The sun shining off the chrome makes me lower my sunglasses.
Every part of me is ready to jump on the back of my motorcycle and take off to parts unknown.
It’s one of the main reasons I joined the Hellbent Hounds—more time on my bike means less dealing with people.
We step up to the side of our Harleys, throwing our legs over in unison like a well-oiled militia. Although none of us are in the service anymore, old training dies hard, and I scan my surroundings, looking for potential threats.
There’s none to be seen, but a stunning woman catches my eye. Her long black hair hangs nearly to her waist, and she’s wearing sexy-as-fuck glasses that I want to pull off before kissing her stupid.
She and another chick laugh together as they stroll down the street with their dogs—right toward an open crime scene. The tinkling tone rushes through me. Although I don’t know her, I already know that’s a sound I want to hear for the rest of my life.
Look away. Look away. I don’t want the guys to notice my interest, but I can’t tear my eyes from her beautiful face.
Sweet and pure. She looks like an angel.
Her lips are plump and pink, but it’s her eyes that have me spellbound.
Though they’re obscured by glasses, the unique silvery color hits me right like a punch to my solar plexus.
“Damn. Check that out.” Fenrir licks his lips like the predator he is and abandons his bike to walk toward the smiling women.
I’m not afraid for them. He’s one of the most fiercely protective men I’ve ever known—extremely dangerous, but never to women.
Fen’s movement breaks my line of sight, breaking the spell she’s put me under.
And I can’t help but want to yank him back as he approaches them.
Move. Get closer. Primal instincts take over, shocking me. I clench my hands, trying to wrestle them into submission.
My nostrils flare, trying to scent her in the air.
But I’m too far away. Unacceptable. We don’t see many omegas around here, but everything about her banging little body and my reaction makes me wonder.
Extremely short and petite, with curves for days, the woman glows in a way that a beta could never.
If that’s the case, it might be better for Fen to take the lead, because if there’s anything I try to stay away from, it’s an omega. There’s just no controlling how our Alpha instincts go wild for them, which is why I only fuck betas. Omegas are clingy little things. Too much drama.
They spot him as he gets closer, and the tall, mousy-haired beta quickly moves in front of her smaller friend. She throws on a cheery smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Hello, my beautiful angels,” he calls out.
Such a player. “Don’t get too close to Duckie’s Sporting Goods.
There was a break-in yesterday. Everything is okay, but I just wanted to make sure you lovely ladies are a bit more watchful.
” He gets closer, and the pointy-eared dog held by the possible omega starts barking emphatically.
The raven-haired goddess corrects him and immediately focuses on the canine’s behavior, making him sit and working through the situation until he calms. The brunette’s eyes widen in disbelief, and she steps nearer.
“Here? In Broken Ridge? But this area has always been safe.” Her mouth puckers, but it’s the blood draining from her friend’s face that pulls my attention once more. “Was anyone hurt?”
“No, everyone’s all right, just some goods stolen, but it was a pretty violent attack for something local.” Violent? Really, Fen? His exaggeration makes them freeze, and the fluffy beast in front of them emits a low growl.
“Thanks for telling us. I can’t believe it.
” She shakes her head, patting the dog before gathering up the leash.
“Well… have a good day.” Fenrir is really off his game—the brunette is clearly interested.
Usually, the Prince Charming of our club, Fen is the brother you want as a wingman on a Friday night. But he’s completely flubbing it.
I’m nearly ready to step in, unwilling to let the possible omega walk away, when he finally gets it together.
“Wait. Before you go, is that fella up for adoption?” But then he gestures to the dog, and a growl builds in my throat.
Not that one, you fuckwit. The stunner ducks her head, making sure her face is out of sight before trading animals with the beta woman.
There’s a thick yellow stripe on the dog’s harness that says, “Adopt Me.”
Well, at least we know he can read.
“This is Mule. And I’m Alicia. Are you looking to adopt a pet?” A true smile graces her face, and the woman’s entire demeanor changes as she jumps into a spiel about dog ownership. With a dimpled grin, Fen kneels, petting the brown dog who has ears that are way too large for its tiny head.
“What about the big guy?” Fenrir gestures at the dog my girl is now holding, and she doesn’t say a word.
For a second, I wonder whether she might be mute, but then I recall her chattering and laughing all the way down the block with Alicia.
Holding my breath, I wait to hear her melodious voice, but Alicia answers for her.
“That’s Bruce. He’s actually Willow’s dog.
We were using him to help train Mule. This little guy was abandoned in the middle of the city and got hit by a car, so he gets nervous in busy places.
” Well, that’s fucking awful. But now I know her name: Willow.
It’s sweet, outdoorsy, pretty, yet sad—just like the quiet woman standing before me.
Flaring my nostrils, I attempt once more to capture her scent, and I’m rewarded with the softest bloom of honeysuckle in the air. It’s muted, and I wonder again whether she is an omega or a beta. But there’s no denying that her perfume calls to me.
My cock twitches in my jeans. Maybe she’d be down for a quick fuck. Everything about her rigid posture screams “keep away,” but I can’t. After slipping off my bike, I stride quickly to where Fenrir’s petting the little dog. I don’t stop walking until I’m towering over my girl—Willow.
She startles, her silver eyes blowing wide. Honeysuckle explodes in the air, and my brain glitches.
Mate. Mine. BITE!