Chapter 11 #2
Aggie shrugged, coughing into her handkerchief.
“Everyone liked your mom, well, except for his,” she said nodding at Chase leaning in the doorway.
She squinted up at the ceiling, thinking.
“It’s possible they dated back in the day…
I’m not really sure. I didn’t move into town until after your grandparents’ accident.
Rebecca had already graduated high school.
I can’t remember her and Wallace being particularly friendly.
Quite the opposite, actually, but then Wallace is a flaming prick, so no surprise there. ”
Jena chewed her lip. “Chase said Malcom threatened me.”
Aggie’s eyes snapped to hers. “Did he now?”
Chase nodded.
The older woman pointed at the chair across from her. “You sit. You,” she said to Chase, “go fetch that cup of tea you promised me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He came over and kissed Jena’s cheek before donning his hat. “I’ll be back.”
“The sidhe-blue eyes that man has…” Aggie sighed, ogling his butt as he left, then slapped the table. “I like him. He can stay.”
“I’m so glad you approve,” Jena said dryly.
Aggie sniffed. “You should be. Now—time for brass tacks. Malcom’s not someone to fuck around with, and if he threatened you, we need to get the coven involved, and we need to do it now.”
Chase walked into Cups trying to swallow the stupid smile on his face and failing miserably. Greta Hornsby, the proprietress, glanced up as the bell above the door tinged behind him and did a double take. He flicked the rain from his hat and bellied up to the counter to snap a pic of the specials.
“Good morning.” He grinned, texting it to Jena. “That a new bandana? It looks great.”
She flushed and went to pat the scrap of purple fabric holding back her steel gray hair before catching herself and frowning at her floury hands.
“Well, you’re certainly in a good mood this morning,” she said, wiping them on her apron.
“It’s nice to see those dimples. I must say, being engaged certainly agrees with you. ”
And his smile was gone.
He cleared his throat. “Large black coffee and whatever you have that’s hot and caramel with an extra shot.”
Her eyebrow rose. “You sure you don’t mean a berry frap?”
“Positive.”
She wet her lips as she turned to the coffee bar, her eyebrow rising higher. “Anything to eat with that?”
“My usual and…” he check his phone as it pinged. “A double bacon, egg, and cheese on a croissant with avocado and tomato…and a raisin scone with clotted cream. Huh…wouldn’t have guessed that…oh, and I need a cup of Earl Grey tea with lavender foam. All of it to go.”
Greta’s lips had flattened when he looked up.
“There a problem?” he asked.
She tapped her book of meal tickets with her pen and slowly shook her head. “No…though it strikes me this isn’t your fiancée’s usual breakfast,” she said, handing the ticket to Kelsey Montgomery—Eastside, not West—through the window to the kitchen.
Chase ran a hand over his jaw and laughed. Goddamn, this fucking town… “My fiancée, huh? That’s weird, because as far as I know, I haven’t proposed to anyone yet.” A smile slid back over his face. But he was gonna.
Greta poured his coffee and handed it to him, her eyes flicking to a paper someone had left on one of the tables. “Well, then maybe you should take a gander at what everyone’s been reading. Your order will be a couple of minutes.” She sniffed and turned her back on him.
Damn it, what now?
Chase went over and flipped the paper open, his temper jumping.
He’d avoided the news and socials for the past few days exactly for this reason.
There it was, front page in black and white, the Montgomery-Chambers wedding was being touted as the event of the season.
He snorted at the picture. It was from a charity thing his mom had made him attend last year.
Crystal was front and center, full-on diva, and he was standing in the background, talking to his sister.
He was so far away, that if it wasn’t for his hat, you wouldn’t even be able to tell it was him.
If that didn’t give people a heads up that this was a complete fucking farce…
The article went on to list his accomplishments, her connections, and apparently their honeymoon was already booked in Paris at the end of next month. Too bad he didn’t have a passport and was phobic about flying.
God, what a shit show. He tossed the paper down and scrubbed a hand over his face.
This was getting way out of hand, and he was tired of playing along.
He wanted to put a real ring on Jena’s finger, and he wanted to do it today.
What time did Fynbender’s open? He glanced at the clock. Not for another half hour, at least—
“Order up.”
Chase went back to the counter, pulling out his wallet to pay. Greta had disappeared, off broadcasting his breakfast order no doubt, and Kelsey was at the register.
“It’s not true?” she murmured, glancing toward the office as she took his card.
He looked at her in surprise, then over his shoulder to make sure she really was speaking to him. “No. Not one goddamned word.”
She nodded, running it. “You should talk to Phil.”
Chase fumbled the bag as she handed it to him.
Phil was the alpha of the Eastside Montgomerys and technically his uncle, though he’d never met the man.
He guessed that made Kelsey his cousin, though the two branches of the family didn’t talk—ever.
At least not in Chase’s lifetime. “You got his number?”
She glanced at the office again, then scribbled something on the back of his receipt and slipped it onto his drink tray. “Have a nice day.”
“Yeah…you, too.”
Chase stepped back onto the drizzly street in a daze.
The hell had that been about? Aside from Kelsey, the Eastside Montgomerys stayed clear of town and kept mostly to the forest track that ran along the river.
They had zero dealings with the Westside, and the two packs pretended the other didn’t exist.
As to the why, he wasn’t really sure, but he’d heard once that his father and his brother had gotten into it over succession when the last alpha had passed.
Splitting the pack had been the compromise.
Chase didn’t buy it. Wallace Montgomery didn’t know the meaning of the word and would have zero issue putting his own flesh and blood down to further his ambition.
But Chase suspected the reasons didn’t really matter at this point. The end result had been the formation of two completely autonomous packs, and he couldn’t see that ever changing…but if he could swap his affiliation…
Shit. It could be the out he was looking for.
“Looks like you worked up quite an appetite,” Malcom said, appearing at his side.
The hair on Chase’s nape rose, and the asshole chuckled.
“I told you’d I’d be watching, though I must admit I did not expect that much of a show.
You might want to clue in your whore on how the mirror in her room reflects everything that happens on the bed…
against the bed…over the bed…” Malcom grinned at him.
“Including how she just loves to take every inch.”
Chase’s temper jumped. “The fuck do you want?”
“You already know the answer to that, son. I told you to keep your distance. It’s a shame you don’t take direction as well as Jena does.”
“I’m not your fucking son, and keep her name out of your mouth,” Chase growled, his wolf howling for the man’s blood.
Malcom’s grin got bigger. “After that display, I might just put more of her in my mouth than that.”
Chase went to lunge at him, and he was grabbed from behind. The hell?
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Malcom said as he struggled. “Think it’s time for you to marinate while I get the rest of the meal ready.” Something cracked down on the side of Chase’s skull, and everything went black.