11. Noah #3
“After all, it didn’t seem to bother you much when you were roughing up Zoey in front of your son.”
The color in George’s face deepened, and I found a grim satisfaction at seeing him unravel.
“Watch yourself, Alexander,” he growled.
“Always do,” I said coolly, even as my mind raced with new information.
They had been watching, which meant I needed to be more vigilant than ever.
And yet, I hadn’t noticed any sinister scents lingering around the gym, nor had I seen anyone suspicious.
Boldercrest was a small enough town that outsiders stood out.
There had been nothing to tip me off to their presence.
That meant they kept their distance, but their boss had given them away.
I’d have to remind the pack to widen our perimeter, sniff out any rats that might be hiding in cars behind tinted windows.
“Your goons must’ve been sitting pretty far away,” I said. “Didn’t catch even a whiff of them.”
George’s hands came together in a slow, sarcastic clap. “Sharp as a tack, aren’t you?” His eyes glinted with something dark and venomous. “I didn’t expect that from someone who makes their living in a ring.”
“Lost money on me, did you?” Despite the tension coiling in my gut, I smirked.
“Few thousand.” He shrugged. “Chump change.”
“Then you should’ve known better than to sneak up on a fighter.”
“I just wanted a little chat, Noah.” His lip curled back in a snarl. “If I’d wanted a fight, you wouldn’t have seen it coming.”
“And what exactly do you think you and I have to chat about?” I asked, though every instinct screamed that nothing good would come from indulging him.
“Here it is. I’ll give you a nice, fat check to stay away from Zoey.” The way he said her name, like she was his property, made my wolf bristle under my skin.
“Fat check, huh?” My blood simmered, and my wolf pushed to take control and tear this fucker’s throat out. “You think you can buy me off?”
“Everyone has a price. You invested a lot to launch your new business venture. I’d hate for you to have put all that work in, only for it to fail.”
Laughter rumbled deep from my chest. “Money? Business? You think that’s what this is about?” I shook my head in disbelief. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m not some pup you can wave a bone in front of and expect to roll over.”
The indignant mixture of shock and fury on his face told me no one dared to laugh at him. Not like this. Not to his face.
“You’re making a huge mistake,” he snarled, stepping closer, trying to reclaim the ground his pride had lost.
“Am I?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest. His threats were empty, just air and noise. “You think your money and your connections scare me?”
He leaned in, as if his proximity would somehow make his words more impactful. “I know people, Noah. People who could make life very difficult for you.”
“Difficult how?” I snapped, my patience wearing thin. This man thought he could intimidate me, in my own territory? It was almost laughable. “You’re going to go after my gym? My town?”
George’s glare hardened, but I saw through his bravado. He was reaching, grasping at straws.
“Your arrogance will be your downfall,” he said bitterly.
“Maybe.” I shrugged, watching the muscle in his jaw tic. “But it won’t be today, and it won’t be by your hand.”
I had the support of my pack behind me. No mob connections or high-and-mighty attitude would change the fact that this was my town, my turf. And George James was nothing more than a bully trying to play a game bigger than he could ever hope to win.
“Then we have a problem,” George said.
“Looks like it.” My chest was a barrel of coiled springs, my wolf bristling beneath my skin, but I wouldn’t let this asshole see me flinch.
He tossed a last venomous glare my way before climbing into the sleek black car that screamed his brand of arrogance. As he drove off, his tires spat out gravel, sending it in all directions. The more distance he put between us, the better.
I pulled out my phone and unlocked it, navigating to my contacts. I scrolled down until I reached the number I was looking for. It wasn’t one I’d ever thought I’d have to dial for help, but I needed it.
“Hey, Dad,” I said when he answered. “We’ve got trouble.”
“Trouble?” he queried. “What kind of trouble?”
“George James,” I said. “He’s here, and he’s making threats.”
A deep sigh echoed through the speaker. “It’s not anything we didn’t expect. Why don’t you come over so we can figure out ways to safeguard Zoey Lester and the boy? I’d do it, anyway, but she’s your mate. I want you to be involved.”
“Yeah.” The prospect of working alongside my father didn’t bother me as much as I thought it might.
“Okay, son. We’ll handle this. Together.” There was a noticeable shift in his tone, a warmth that hadn’t been there before, and something that sounded like pride.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said, ending the call. As I looked out over the empty parking lot, I knew that whatever came next, I wouldn’t be facing it alone.