Page 44 of The Pack's Knotty Runaway
Hmmm. Yes.I tilt my chin up, inspecting the bristly blonde moustache glued to my upper lip through the rearview mirror.I think this will do nicely.
It’s extreme. I’ll admit that. But these are desperate times.
I have officially gone through my entire list of potential distributors for the orchard this morning, and not a single one of them replied. Which technically means I have no work to do right now. At least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself for the last forty minutes, ever since I parked my car at the very edge of the Serenity Ridge Retreat’s gravel lot.
I’m not stalking her. I am simply conducting a routine wellness check.
Luna is inside, presumably finding her inner peace or whatever, and this place takes their guests’ privacy veryseriously. They don’t allow anyone past the front lobby who hasn’t registered. And I definitely don’t want the owner to see me, because he will absolutely recognize me, and there is zero chance he’d let me in.
Nor do I want Luna to recognize me. Because I am not here to disturb her. I’m just here to... make sure she has everything she needs.
And maybe get a whiff or two of her while I’m at it. Just a quick hit to take the edge off this tremoring withdrawal I’m getting. There’s no harm in that, right?
I reach into the passenger seat, grab the aluminum bottle I brought with me, and hose myself down.Pshhhht.The chemical sting of the scent-suppressing spray prickles my skin, erasing my scent.
There.I toss the can aside.This way I’m absolutely sure I won’t disturb her.
I check my mirror one last time. The mustache holds. The plan is flawless.
I already checked the retreat’s website. They’re hosting an open hiring drive today. All I have to do is walk into the lobby, fill out an application for the maintenance worker job they posted, and walk past security.
I don’t actually want to get hired, obviously. But the interview will surely get me further than the lobby. Once I’m in the back hallways, I can slip out, locate my mate, make sure she’s got everything she needs, take a few whiffs and leave.
It is brilliant. Completely foolproof.
Just as I reach for the door handle, an engine snarls in behind me. A beat-up pickup swings into the lot and jerks to a stop three spaces down.
My heart drops into my stomach.
Shit, Bram’s truck.
The engine cuts out. The passenger’s door opens and Reed steps out onto the gravel. Bram climbs down from the driver side, broad shoulders set, and sweeps a slow look across the lot. Row by row. Counting.
His gaze lands on my car. Stops. Holds.
He reaches over and taps the back of his hand against Reed’s chest without looking away. Reed follows his stare. Then they’re crossing the gravel toward me, unhurried, side by side.
Damn it.
I roll my window down with a smooth, unbothered smile as they approach. “Fancy seeing you boys here. Did you get lost on the way to the hardware store?”
Reed stalks the last few feet across the gravel and plants his hands on my door frame, glaring down at me.
“We found your laptop,” Bram says, walking up behind him. His voice is a low, dangerous rumble. “Open to the retreat’s job postings.”
“You were going to pull a solo mission,” Reed sneers. “Without us, you traitor. We are apack.”
I keep my expression pleasant. Easy. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I was simply enjoying a scenic drive and ended up pulling in here to take a quick nap.”
Reed stares at me, his gaze dropping to my mouth.
“... Really,” he says slowly. “Then what the actual fuck is on your face?”
Oh, shit.
“Oh, this?” I give the mustache a casual stroke. “Been meaning to see how one of these fits me before I let mine grow in. Not too bad, right? Whaddaya think?”
“Of the blond, dead squirrel on your lip?” Reed’s lip curls. “It’s horrendous. And it doesn’t even match your hair color.”
