Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Patrick
Stakeouts are boring.
Usually I have at least one other person to keep me company.
Not a damn thing happens until well after it gets dark. The woman, Charlotte, peeks out the door of her apartment. I scoot lower in my seat, watching her with zero shame. She darts outside, closing the door behind her, and makes her way to her SUV.
My forehead wrinkles.
Wilder said it was just her and the kid. No one has come or gone for hours.
Is she going to leave the boy in there alone?
Where the fuck is she headed?
My jaw tightens as she backs the SUV right up onto the sidewalk in front of her building. She hops out, shuts off the vehicle, pops the back hatch, and heads inside.
Motherfucker.
She’s going to run.
I can feel it in my bones.
My suspicions are proven correct when she comes out of her apartment with a load of her belongings.
Goddammit.
Now I’m going to have to go up there and introduce myself.
Wilder’s stepsister was supposed to call and warn her that someone would be keeping an eye on her.
Does she think we bailed simply because she couldn’t make us?
The entire point is that I’m keeping a low profile.
If anyone popped up on her doorstep, I would call for backup. My guys could be here within ten minutes, but I’m more than capable of keeping Charlotte and her son safe.
She makes several more trips, steadily packing the back of her SUV.
My eyes widen as she even carries out bedding and blankets, stuffing them into the back seat.
She keeps all of it behind the driver’s side, so the kid’s car seat must be on the other side.
She goes back inside, and I exhale heavily, shutting my car off.
I stay close to the building, appraising the parking lot as I come to a stop near the shrubs at the edge of the sidewalk.
I don’t want to frighten the poor woman to death, but something tells me, if she spots a strange man, she’ll run right back into her apartment and call the cops. There’s also the whole part about not wanting her to scream bloody murder and terrify her child.
I don’t think she’s packing to leave tomorrow. I’d bet my last dollar that her final trip inside will be to collect the boy.
Who knows where she plans to disappear to after that, but unfortunately for both of us, I can’t let that happen.
She makes her way toward her SUV while I stay flattened against the wall of her building. Her long golden-blonde hair bounces behind her as she moves, and I’m smacked with cherries and something tart.
It’s almost like lime and pomegranate…
Maybe?
My nose twitches, and I take a subconscious step forward, trying to determine if that’s really her scent or some type of perfume.
Jesus.
She smells like cherry limeade.
Most omegas have cloying scents that remind me of desserts, but her scent could pass for one of those shaved-ice drinks that you enjoy on a blistering summer day.
I lick my lips, freezing in my tracks as my eyes widen.
She’s a scent match, and a potent one at that.
My instincts scream to get as close to her as possible. That way, I’d have a better chance of huffing hits of that sweet cherry and lime smell of hers as I bury my teeth into her soft little body.
She’s curvy—most omegas are—but I get a nice view of her ass as she shoves the plastic bin into the storage area of her vehicle.
Shaking my head, I try to force away the irrational thoughts. Being an alpha is a real pain in the ass at times. Our instincts rarely align with what’s expected in polite society, and they almost never make sense.
I haven’t even met the woman, and my canines ache with the need to claim her.
I step onto the sidewalk, keeping my steps light as I approach. There’s no way to get this introduction out of the way without scaring the hell out of her, so it’s probably better to rip off the Band-Aid.
“Charlotte?” I ask, keeping my tone light and friendly.
The woman squeaks, spinning around and jabbing a gun at my chest.
I’m surprised but always on alert.
My hands fly to cup hers as she continues to aim at my heart.
Thank fuck she hasn’t pulled the trigger yet. Everything in me screams to push her hands to the side, but if she’s startled and pulls the trigger, I won’t be fast enough. A bullet can tear through my chest before I can change her trajectory.
I stay as calm as possible as I say, “My name is Patrick O’Connor. Wilder sent me to keep an eye on you. Your friend…” I rack my brain for the woman’s name, but now that my adrenaline is pumping, it’s hard to focus. “Laney asked us to watch out for you and your son.”
“Lacey?” she chokes out, blinking rapidly. Her hands shake violently, and even though it’s frigid, I believe it’s fear rather than the cool temperature that has her trembling.
“Right, Lacey. The woman who was attacked last night after the Christmas festival.” I keep my eyes locked on hers, willing her to listen to me.
“Today, she was followed by a group of men in a blacked-out SUV. Obviously the guys Grim disposed of last night had friends. Those friends are now looking for answers about what happened to their associates.”
“Wait, what?” she whispers, her eyes widening. “She was attacked? She told me they watched her walk to the bus stop… Did you say disposed of as in killed?”
I grimace.
Someone really should have let me in on what they decided to pass along to her.
Another thought dawns on me a half second too late. If she didn’t know Lacey was attacked, why is she running?
Unless…
Charlotte is afraid those thugs were actually after her.
“Three men attacked her in an alley as she walked to the bus stop. Luckily, Wilder had one of his men keeping an eye on her. He was able to step in—”
“I knew something was off when I talked to her earlier,” Charlotte says shakily. “Is she okay?”
Perhaps my assumption was a stretch?
Did she pick up on the weird energy and know Lacey was lying to her about what happened?
Is that why she’s trying to bolt in the middle of the night?
Something isn’t adding up.
“She will be,” I say, keeping my voice low and soothing. Her terror has turned her scent acrid, and it’s setting my instincts even further on edge. “Wilder, Callum, and Grim are with her. They sent me to keep an eye out for you until they can assess the threat and handle it.”
“You’re from the security company?”
I frown.
I’m going to have Wilder’s fucking head for setting me up this badly. If there are lies that need to be upheld, that information needs to be passed on to the person who has to keep up the ruse.
I skirt the truth, saying, “I’m actually here as a favor to Wilder. That’s Lacey’s stepbrother. He and I are old friends. Don’t worry. I’m more than capable of keeping you safe.”
“I’m surprised the police haven’t shown up to talk to me,” she says in a daze. “But I never saw the guys. I just felt like something was wrong. Oh God, I left her at the market. I tried to get her to leave with me, but—”
“Hey,” I coo, brushing my fingers over the backs of her hands. “She’s fine. The cops won’t be an issue. We’re handling this ourselves.”
Movement catches my eye, coming around the side of the SUV.
At first I think Charlotte and I are good and fucked, but the army green hoodie and fucking mountain man beard come into view.
I shake my head.
It doesn’t help.
Malachy slams the muzzle of his gun to the back of Charlotte’s head. “I don’t kill women if I can help it, but I can’t watch you shoot my little brother.”
She freezes, not that she was moving much before, but I don’t even think she’s breathing.
It’s a goddamn miracle that she doesn’t pull the trigger as he startles the fuck out of her.
“Everything is fine. She’s not going to hurt me. I scared her. It was to be expected. Right, sweetheart? No harm, no foul.” I give her hands a gentle squeeze.
“Right,” she chokes out.
“I’m going to pull your arms to the side,” I tell her, keeping my voice calm and level. “Then I’m going to take the gun from you.”
“Okay.” She nods.
I glare at Malachy over her shoulder.
Tact of a wrecking ball.
I swear to God, I’m going to throat punch him for this.