Page 13 of The Packaged Deal

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Page 13 of The Packaged Deal

I barely get an ‘I love you’ out before he’s gone, pulling my apartment door shut behind him. With a happy sigh, I glance at the clock. I don’t have to be down at the refuge until eight, but I'm up. I may as well scope out the building, see if there are any undesirables hanging around.

I pull on a sexy bra and lace panties before hiding it with a pair of my favourite jeans, a black singlet, my favourite band t-shirt, and my heavy boots. I dance around my kitchen while I make a coffee and shove a dry bit of toast into my mouth.

Sven will talk to me when he’s ready. That’s the kind of relationship we have. I grab my keys, phone, my coffee, and jog downstairs.

My bike is waiting for me. I throw my leg over the side, finish my coffee, leave the cup on the ground for when I get home, and start the engine. My baby revs between my legs, giving me this feeling of power.

Riding my baby is one of the few moments when I feel my mind calm down and allow me to really focus on one thing. Just existing in this moment. Normally, it’s going a hundred miles an hour, and sometimes it feels like when I'm having a conversation with someone, I'm having three at the same time. It’s exhausting, but I have my own ways of dealing with the stress.

Fucking, fighting, or flying.

I snort a laugh at myself and press my headset. The phone rings for a minute before someone answers.

“You better have a damn good reason for waking me this early, Kandi,” Missy growls.

“I'm heading over to the refuge.”

“Ooh!” Missy hums under her breath. “Silver will be there. I want an update on how she’s doing.”

“Naturally.”

“And this omega, she must be special. Adrian’s been over there every day for two weeks.” Missy is the Raptore Pack’s Omega. We became friends while I was assigned as her bodyguard. She’s got a dry sense of humour, is quiet but has really grown into exactly who she is. Her ginger hair and those strange coloured green eyes no longer try to hide in shadows.

She’s my best friend.

“You had Toby and Rayne babysitting the refuge, didn’t you? Did they see anyone?”

“Not a thing. Where are you taking her?”

“Eh, she’s had some time to recover. The bruises are going down. I thought I'd take her to get some clothes. Makeup. You know, all that girly shit I love and hate.”

Missy cackles.

“Adrian’s really been there every day?” I ask, surprised. I have to admit, that’s strange for the doctor. He and Sven are best friends, and now both of them are acting weird! Something is going on.

“Yeah, he’s really fond of her.”

I allow those words to sink in, that familiar uneasy feeling comes back in full force. Sven might want to hide his feelings as best he can, but I know he’s got some kind of something for the good doctor. He denies it and might even at gunpoint. But there’s something between them.

Is there something with the girl, too?

“All right, I'm here. I'll report in a few days.”

“Oh? Are you going deep with her?”

“I figured I might. Take her to a hotel and get her out of the refuge for a while. They’re having a shortage of beds. If she’s staying, she needs to move into a permanent room or transition out.”

“Huh. Well, I'll catch up with you in a few days.” Missy groans. “I'm glad you took those two weeks off. You needed a break. You haven’t had one since the incident.”

I gag. “Hey, we had words about that!” I hang up before she can answer me. But the unease sits with me. Did two weeks of holidays help me feel settled? Not really, I just wandered around feeling aimless. Like there is something in my life that is missing, but I can’t put my finger on what exactly it is.

Last year, I killed a man who shot Demon Montford. I saved my brother’s pack. But I still dream about the serial killer every night. I dream my gun jams. I dream I've forgotten to load bullets or that I'm too slow. And instead of Demon dying, it’s Sven or Missy.

It takes me thirty minutes to reach the refuge. I park a block away in an underground carpark. Rayne gets out of a giant black SUV and folds his ridiculously muscled arms. He's a giant meathead of an alpha with a crap tonne of potential. He’s Sven’s little prodigy.

He smirks as he throws his keys at my head. I snatch them out of the air and toss mine back.

“Good to see you doing some hard work for a change,” he teases.




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