Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Not Bailey,” the Alpha told him. “Tate.”
A pause. “Ah. What can I do for you?”
“You can tell me if your pack are behind what happened today,” said Tate, his voice silky with menace. “Bailey was ran off a road and crashed her car. My mate and one of my other enforcers were inside the vehicle. None are dead, but all are injured. I would like to know who’s responsible for those wounds.”
“I can tell you for certain that it was not my pack,” Amiri firmly stated, a ring of truth in his voice that couldn’t be ignored. “I have told you before, we have no interest in going to war with you.”
“So you say. But you have to admit it doesn’t look good for you that someone began targeting her right after you showed up.”
“You must have your doubts, though, or you would have come for us by now,” Amiri smoothly pointed out.
“Don’t mistake that for me having a single fucking issue with shitting fury all over your pack. People die in wars. I will not take my pride into battle unless I am convinced it is necessary. If at any point I become convinced that you are behind the recent attacks, I will come for your pack. And I will fucking decimate it.” With that, Tate rang off.
“Either someone from his pack acted without his knowledge, or they’re unconnected to what happened,” decided Camden, his voice flat, his eyes still hard. “Because that jackal was telling the truth.”
Bailey dipped her chin. “Who are you sending to collect Jackson’s brothers and Ginny?” she asked Tate as he passed her phone back to her.
“Farrell, Isaiah, Finley, and Joaquin,” the Alpha male replied.
Camden’s eyes narrowed. “Is there a particular reason why you’re not sending me?”
“Yes,” replied Tate. “It’s for the same reason I’m not sending Havana, Deke, Bailey, or Aspen. You want blood. You’re not particularly bothered at this point who you make bleed. And we have no proof that any of the three loners are guilty. They don’t even seem likely suspects, since a few loners would be foolish to take on an entire pride.”
Camden’s nostrils flared. “If they are guilty—”
“It wouldn’t surprise me if they tried provoking their captors into ending their life so they could escape the consequences,” Tate finished. “You’re too furious to hold back. It’s better that others go grab them.”
Bailey agreed with that decision. Camden was hyper-protective of Aspen, not to mention a sadistic fucker. He’d easily snap the neck of anyone he even suspected could be responsible for the injuries his mate had received. Really, so could Bailey. As such, it was definitely best all round that she wasn’t being sent to collect the loners.
Havana sighed at Tate. “You’re right that they’d be dumb to take us on. Seems both strange and improbable that they would, even to avenge Jackson. It’s not like he’s dead. He recovered, and he doesn’t believe Bailey is responsible.” She paused. “I take it you don’t intend to hard-core-interrogate them, since they’re not full-on suspects.”
“No, I see no need for it,” Tate told her. “I say we ask them some questions, all civil-like. If they lie, we can kick things up a notch. They’ll be shaken up enough by being snatched out of their homes.”
“Yeah, you don’t need to tie someone up to intimidate them,” said Farrell. “You just need to box them in.”
Deke squinted, pensive. “The motorhome. We could drive it deep into the woods and question them there like we’ve done before with others. They’ll be scared at the idea that they’re in the middle of nowhere, where no one would hear them scream and their bodies could so easily be disposed of.”
Tate’s eyes sharpened with interest. “Yes, we can wait for them there. Farrell and the other enforcers can bring the trio to us. Bailey, I know your snake is a bloodthirsty creature who delights in biting people, but keep her from killing them unless it’s necessary.”
She gave him a look that said, I make no promises.
He only sighed.
Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel of the stationary motorhome a short time later, Deke spared Bailey a quick glance. Beside him, she was scratching at a splotch of dried blood on her cheek. The sight of the blood made his still-irate cat snarl.
Wanting to get right down to interrogating the loners, she’d vetoed taking a shower first. Deke had asked her to ride shotgun, wanting her close, and she’d agreed. It was a rare occasion when Bailey didn’t toss “Why?” at him when he made a request of her. He wondered if he could consider it progress or she was simply distracted by her thoughts.
He’d parked the motorhome in a wooded area not too far from their apartment complex. It shouldn’t be long before Farrell and the others arrived.