Four Days (Seven Series #4)

“Good girl,” he said, turning his attention back to Maizy. “Can you give me a big hug?”

 

 

She reached out and put her arms around him.

 

“Nope. That’s not good enough. I can still breathe.”

 

Maizy squeezed tight and giggled, playfully trying to strangle him. He kissed her neck and set her down, quickly turning toward the door.

 

“I’ll be at the bar,” he said to Austin.

 

 

 

Twenty minutes later, the only men remaining in the room were Wheeler and Austin. Lynn sat behind the bar, armed and frightened. She kept asking why we couldn’t just call the cops, but Lynn didn’t understand the ways of the Breed. Cops couldn’t keep a rogue Shifter away from our land, and restraining orders had no meaning in our world. She’d wanted to hide Maizy in the bathroom at first, but Austin didn’t like that idea. I’d heard him talking with Wheeler about the possibility of Fox setting the place on fire. With all the flammable alcohol, he might use it as a last resort. There wasn’t a back door, and Austin wanted to make sure they could get out fast.

 

When the light flashed by the door, that was our signal Fox had pulled into the parking lot. My stomach twisted into knots and I began wringing my hands.

 

“Wheeler, maybe you should stay in here with Lynn,” Austin suggested.

 

Wheeler gripped the doorknob, penetrating him with hostile eyes. “I’m fighting with my brothers today, not cowering in a room. You need me on that floor and I’m in the mood to kick some ass. ’Preciate ya.”

 

The men were able to conceal their weapons, but Reno didn’t bother. Breed bars didn’t condone violence, but most didn’t care if someone wore a grenade on their head. Everyone was dangerous, and a weapon didn’t make someone more deadly than the next. Austin didn’t want to spook Fox, and strapping a gun on the outside of my dress might have raised an eyebrow.

 

“Sit at one of the tables near the back,” Austin said, leaning against the door. “Draw him all the way inside so he can’t cut loose and bail. Act as if you’re going with him, just so long as it’s believable. Make small talk long enough to get him to sit down. Doesn’t matter what you say; I’ll show up and tell him what’s what. He’ll be expecting me to have words with him, but he won’t expect anything to come of it. A Packmaster can’t force a packmate to stay, and he’s gonna feel safe inside the club.”

 

I took a deep breath and he patted my shoulder as we walked out the door. Wheeler sat at the bar near the front door, his head low, looking like any other drunk in the early morning hours. Fox’s men wearily rubbed their eyes, unaware our pack was moving into position. Reno stayed visible to keep them distracted, and William relocated to a booth just behind theirs.

 

I sat down at a table near the hall that gave me a clear view of the main room—especially the bar straight ahead on my right. Most of the tables in the center of the room were a mix of standing tables and the kind with chairs. Half walls divided the left side into two sections. Behind them were more places to sit down, including some lounge chairs and private booths.

 

The main door swung open and a bright light pierced the darkness. A man emerged from the short hall like a bear from a cave after a long hibernation, his eyes hungry with desperate determination.

 

Fox reached up with both hands and pulled the hood on his jacket away from his head. When he caught sight of me, he wasted no time in conquering the space between us, eying the trophy he had sought for so long. His pack moved in behind him and lingered near the bar. These men knew nothing of strategy, yet the knowledge that at least two of them were panthers filled me with dread.

 

His blue eyes searched the club, but he didn’t seem aware that my pack was watching from the dark corners of the room. He shook off his coat and tossed it over the table. Fox didn’t want to sit with his back to the room, so he sat in the chair on my left. “What’s this for?”

 

“That’s my cane.”

 

He barked out a laugh. “I didn’t know you were that old, Ivy. Is this some kind of joke?”

 

“When you chased me off that night, I was struck by a car. I didn’t heal all the way and now I have a lame leg. So maybe you should reconsider if you still think I’d be a valuable addition to your pack. It’s not too late to walk away from this, and I’m sure your men won’t care either way.”

 

He turned the cane in his hand so the wolf’s head was facing him—silver teeth sharp and ferocious. “Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. Now you won’t be able to run from me.”

 

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