Chapter 5
CADE
I hung around for a while, wanting to talk to Tom’s granddaughter but finding myself oddly at a loss for words. Probably because of Tom. He looked so helpless, lying there. Thinner and paler than usual, poor guy.
Jess wouldn’t leave him. She was a stubborn damn chick.
So much for my fantasy of taking her home and comforting her. Best kind of comforting—the kind I could do with my tongue and my dick.
Shit. I really had to stop imagining how it would feel to slide my cock into Jessica MacLeish’s plump, juicy pussy.
A little later, I was riding down the street, heading home, when I noticed two Harleys parked side by side on the road in front of the all-night café. I pulled over, examining the tags. One was mud covered and unreadable, but the other was clear.
Fuckin’ hell. These bikes belonged to the guys I’d raced with, the ones who had tried to force me off the road. The guys who had so rattled Tom with their antics that he’d swerved into my lane and then rolled into a ditch. Had they stopped to help? Nope. Bastards.
I pulled in beside the two bikes, locked my own and stalked over to the door of the café.
Keep your cool, man, I warned myself. Easy does it.
Things got even worse when I checked out the occupants of the café. Besides the middle aged and weary-looking barista, there were only two. I knew them both. Hell, I’d fucked one of them. And I’d defeated the other for the position of dominant male of the Whittier wolf pack.
Brandon, the closest thing I had to a rival in the pack. And his mate Suzanne. Both clad in leather riding togs. Their closed helmets were sitting on one side of the table.
I strolled over and stood there, looking down on them. Brandon smiled. He smiled a lot. I thought about driving my fist into his perfect, shiny teeth. “Evening, folks.”
Suzanne, who had been a hookup of mine a few years back, didn’t look anywhere near as pleased to see me as Brandon was pretending to be. But she forced herself to be polite. I got the feeling she was forcing herself a lot lately. She’d supported Brandon as pack alpha, and she’d taken his loss to me a lot harder than Brandon had. ‘Course it was hard to tell with Brandon—he was skillful at hiding his feelings, and I didn’t trust him.
“Cade,” Suzanne said coolly, bowing her head in acknowledgement of my rank.
Brandon made the same head bow. “Alpha. You’re out late. Shouldn't you be resting up at home? Hard work, running the pack. Wouldn't want to see it slow you down.”
Good one, I thought, half admiring his faint sneer. “Gonna give you two the benefit of the doubt. Gonna assume you didn’t realize you left a crack-up in your wake on the road into town.”
Brandon and Suzanne exchanged a quick glance. If I was reading them right, they were surprised. I could read Suzanne pretty well, but Brandon was opaque, as always.
“What kind of crack-up? Who was involved?”
“Tom MacLeish. Spooked by a couple of bikers. Careened off the road.”
“Shit,” Brandon said. “No, we didn't know. Would have stopped if we had.”
“We saw an ambulance go by,” Suzanne said. “Is he badly hurt?”
“He’s alive. He’s got some injuries, though, on top of his illness. His granddaughter was with him. Jessica. She saw you speeding in the opposite direction just before they nearly collided with me.”
Suzanne looked me over. Her cool assessing gaze managed to be insulting. “You don’t look damaged.”
“They missed me. Went into the ditch. Their car turned over and rolled a couple times.”
“I remember an SUV,” Brandon said. “Driving a bit fast, for the conditions. Who was at the wheel? Tom or the granddaughter?”
“Tom. The girl shifted and dived out in time, but Tom got thrown. Broke his leg and might have internal injuries.”
“Sorry to hear it. Can he have visitors? We’ll stop by before heading home.”
“No visitors. Not tonight.”
“What about the girl?” Suzanne asked. “Did we know he had a granddaughter? First I’ve heard of her.”
“She’s not hurt. She moved back to town recently to take care of Tom. Tough way to begin her stay in Whittier.”
Suzanne bristled. “Are you blaming us? We had nothing to do with the crash. We didn’t even know there was one.”
“You were going damn fast on a road not built for that kind of speed.”
Brandon treated me to one of his most charming smiles. “And you were going a mite too slow.”
“You tried to run me off the road.”
“Bullshit. You’re the guy who hung with the Rockets motorcycle club for a while. I hardly think Suzanne and I would be capable of committing road aggression against a pro biker like yourself.”
“I expect dirty tricks from the MC guys. Not from shifters in my own pack.” I smiled as I said it. A fuck-you sort of smile. A don’t let it happen again smile. A don’t push me if you want to remain in my pack smile.
Brandon got it. He bowed his head a little lower. “Apologies, Cade. Just having a little fun.”
“Accepted.” I looked at Suzanne, whose brown eyes remained defiant. I stared harder, and she dropped her gaze.
“Suzanne?” her mate prodded.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. “Hope Tom recovers. That sucks about the accident.”
I knew I ought to be mollified, but I wasn’t. I still wanted to kick Brandon’s ass, but the guy had submitted, just as he had when I’d won the leadership election. As long as he accepted me as pack alpha, there was really nothing more to say.
“Have a cup of coffee with us,” he offered. “You look tired.”
“Sorry. Heading out.” After one more hard stare, I left them.