I have an in there.
It has to be me.
Billy
I take the elevator up to the rooftop helipad at six p.m.
I missed Aubrey leaving my place, but I put a tracker in her phone.
What?
I’m not obsessed.
I just have trust issues, and I’m controlling as fuck.
Aubrey works for me now, which means I need to know what she’s up to.
Whether she can be trusted.
By the time I got off my afternoon video call, she was at Penn Station.
She didn’t take a train, though.
Judging by the way her tracker stayed in one place for twenty minutes then exited the station, it looks like she had a meeting with someone.
In the busiest train station in the city.
If that’s not highly suspicious, I don’t know what is.
I also didn’t buy her story about painting a mural for Sentience.
A woman like her-a social justice warrior / artist-wouldn’t take a job for them out of principle.
They are the devil to the lefties.
They exploit child labor in third world countries to scan and upload the information they feed their artificial intelligence, and everyone knows they don’t compensate the original creators of that content.
She, as an artist, would take exception to their blatant thievery.
So that makes me think she’s there for subterfuge.
I searched her bag this morning while she was using the bathroom and found one very interesting item-a keycard to Sentience with the photo of the bastard she’d given a hug to the night I picked her up.
I still want to stomp him into the ground, but my wolf nearly did a backflip when I realized she might have hugged him to steal the card.
The alternative thought is that they’re screwing, and he left it at her place.
Maybe she went to Penn Station to meet him to return it.
Fuck!
If that’s the case, I will throw him off the roof of the Sentience building and watch him scream.
Right now, the tension of it all has me nearly feral, which is why I have to get to the woods.
My wolf needs to be off-leash.
The helicopter touches down on the roof helipad.
We have one here and one on the top of Moon Co.
When I called the company pilot, John Acker, to pick me up, he said he was already scheduled for a trip out to the Adirondacks, but there was room for one more.
Sure enough, Jake, Vance, and Sully are sitting in the back of the helicopter.
I climb into the front passenger seat and put on the headset.
I twist and give them a salute.
“Going for a run?”
“Hell, yeah.”
Jake rolls his stacked shoulders.
“There’s only so much tension you can work out in the gym.”
Sully nods his agreement.
“Where the fuck were you all day?”
Vance demands.
I turn back to face front to give them my back and end the conversation.
“Working from home.”
“Why?”
Vance won’t let it drop.
I don’t answer.
“Are you fucking her?”
Sully’s voice is flat.
I want to kill him.
As our pack enforcer, he makes everyone’s business his business.
He’s not just the muscle, he’s a full security firm packed into one guy.
“You sure you want to go there?
I doubt you want me to dig into your sex life.”
Sully is a sadist who frequents BDSM clubs.
If he weren’t our enforcer, I would consider his sex habits a pack vulnerability considering how many different females he’s played with over the years.
But he’s careful, and he understands his job is to eliminate all liabilities from the pack and Moon Co.
He chuckles at my rejoinder.
“So you are.
I was just taking a wild guess when I saw her in the elevator, and you didn’t come in.”
I remember the taste of her on my tongue.
The way she threw her head back and gasped as she came.
She’s the reason I need to shift to wolf form and run tonight.
There’s too much power and potency vibrating through my cells right now.
I need to tear something apart.
Run until my paws ache.
Fuck.
I can’t do the latter tonight, but tomorrow she’ll be back in my penthouse.
I can’t fucking wait.
“Brick ordered me to liaise with Madi’s human contingent for the wedding.
That’s what I’m doing.”
“What kind of liaising are we talking about?”
Jake joked.
“I’m serving my alpha,” I growl.
All three of them chuckle, and I want to throw them out of the helicopter one by one.
“Sounds to me like you’re serving a human.
Or is she serving you?”
Vance pokes.
My wolf tears to the surface.
I lunge through the seats to punch Vance in the nose.
I’m too fast for him to block, and he roars in protest as the bones crack.
The pilot shouts, “Hey!” but something in my face must tell him to mind his own fucking business because he turns his attention back to the windshield.
Vance straightens his nose.
He’s a healthy shifter-it will heal by morning.
I made a point, no more.
“Fuck,” Jake mutters.
“There’s really something going on here.”
I want to snarl, “No, there’s not!” but I know it would just make me sound weak.
Make it seem true.
It’s not true.
Of course, it’s not fucking true.
She’s a human.
A nobody.
She hates my kind.
I have no use for her kind.
We’re incompatible in every way.
Okay, I need to put this to bed right now.
I suddenly realize how wrong I played this.
I should’ve made her seem like a toy.
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