The Werewolf Meets His Match

Page 47

She gave him a strange look. “Of course not, but don’t you care?”

“No. I can live without it.” He realized he could. He already had a great life. Being alpha wasn’t going to change that. “So long as I have you, that is. And Charlie. Okay? I love you.”

Eyes liquid with emotion, she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “I love you, too.”

He nodded, feeling the fire in his belly building to a dangerous crescendo. “Good. Let’s go get our kid.”

Ivy stood on her parents’ front porch, Hank at her side, wondering what she’d done right in her life to end up with a man like this. If she let herself think about it too much, she’d probably break down and have a good long cry, but there wasn’t time for that. Not when Charlie needed her.

Hank rapped his big fist on the Kincaids’ front door. The brass knocker, a wolf’s head, was in need of polishing.

“Patsy, get the damn door.” Clemens’ shout reached beyond the house walls to scrape down Ivy’s spine like the tines of a sharpened fork.

Hank reached out and squeezed her hand as Ivy’s mother answered the door. She looked gray and worn. The smell of roasted meat and vegetables wafted out.

“Hello?” She dried her hands on the apron tied at her waist. “Oh. Ivy. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Where’s Charlie?” Ivy asked. The time for pleasantries was long gone.

Patsy’s eyes went blank with fear. “He’s-he’s on restriction.”

“Where is he?” Ivy repeated. She was past being gentle with her mother. Ivy loved her, pitied her, really, but if Patsy wasn’t going to protect her grandchild, then she was as bad as Clemens.

Patsy glanced inside the house.

Ivy was done waiting. “If that man did anything to hurt him—”

Hank stepped forward. “Mrs. Kincaid, where is Charlie?”

She dropped the apron. “You must be the Merrow boy.” Her gaze flickered from Hank to Ivy and back to Hank. “Never thought we’d see you.”

“Well, here I am. And I want to see Charlie. Now.”

Patsy leaned back into the house. “Clem, you better come here.”

He answered with another shout. “Why the hell for?”

“Ivy’s here,” Patsy yelled back.

Ivy shook her head, disgust coating her tongue with a sour, familiar taste. “Nice way to stick up for your daughter, Mom.”

“Ivy, hush now before your father—”

Clemens stormed up to the door, nudging Patsy out of the way. He had a can of beer in one hand. “What are you here for? I see you brought your new boyfriend with you.”

“Charlie,” Ivy repeated.

Clemens’ broad grin revealed his yellowed teeth. He shoved his free hand through his too-long salt and pepper hair and ignored Ivy to talk to Hank. “Come to meet your new kid, huh, Merrow?”

Hank nodded. “Where is he?”

Clemens stared at Hank for a second, maybe hoping to intimidate him. When Hank didn’t respond, Clemens’ smile faded. “He’s out back in the shed. I locked him in there for lying to me. Rotten little mutt.”

Hank turned to Ivy, rage simmering gold in his eyes. “Shed. Now.”

She shot a curse at her father, then ran for the backyard, Hank on her heels. Clem’s laughter echoed through the trees as they looped around the pool. She pointed at her father’s storage shed at the edge of the tree line. “There.”

Hank barreled past and ripped the door off.

Charlie screamed. He was curled in a ball near the back, his skinny arms over his head, clothes grimy from the dirty floor.

Ivy rushed into the dark, damp space and cradled him in her arms. “It’s okay, baby, Mama’s here. It’s all right now. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He wept against her, clinging to her and mumbling Mama over and over. She picked him up and took him out of the shed, her hand covering his little head. “Shh,” she murmured in his ear. “I’ve got you, baby.”

Hank looked like he could chew nails. “Is he all right?”

“Charlie, are you hurt?”

He lifted his head, eyes wet, nose red, and sniffled. There was a bruise on his cheek.

Ivy wanted to vomit. Memories of her own childhood came boiling up. She asked a question she already knew the answer to. “Did Granddad hit you?”

Charlie nodded, his wary gaze landing on Hank. “Who’s that man?”

Hank lifted his hand. “I’m Hank. You and your mom are going to come live with me now.”

Charlie clung to her. She kissed his temple. “We’re going to a great place, kiddo. You’re going to love it.”

Clemens lumbered out of the back of the old brick house. The beer was gone. He stood on the edge of the pool deck and called out to them. “You better be taking that kid with you.”

“I am,” Ivy shouted back. “You’re never going to lay a hand on him again.”

Clemens laughed and walked into the yard to stand face to face with Hank. “You two still getting married?”

“As soon as we get back,” Hank answered.

Clemens shot a look at Charlie. “Good luck with that.”

Hank stood his ground. “You think you’re pulling one over on me. That I don’t know the truth about Charlie. But I do.”

Confusion clouded Clemens’ ugly mug. “And you’re still going to marry her?”

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