He laid her on the mattress, tugged off her shoes and pulled the comforter over her. “Rest. I’ll send someone up with something to eat in a few hours.”
She closed her eyes and turned her head into the pillow, breathing in Isaiah’s scent. She didn’t acknowledge when Michael left. Meredith lay there, not sleeping, but remembering the hours she and Isaiah had spent in this room. Knowing it would never happen again.
She clung to the pillow and pulled her legs toward her chest, curling up as tight as she could. But nothing could dispel the pain or fill the empty, aching hole in her heart.
Michael was worried. Not only for his brother but for his mother. She’d always seemed so strong, so confident. She was the rock on which they all leaned. Now that foundation had been shaken.
He realized just how much he depended on her. How much all of them did. It was habit, he supposed. Left over from childhood. But that didn’t make it right. It was time for him, for the other males, to step up and take more on their shoulders.
Hank had been trying to do it since he arrived. Maybe it was because he’d been older when he’d found them. An adult male who’d spent time in the human military. Only Hank had pushed to make Meredith let him take on some of her duties. And she’d let him.
That should have been a sign. But Michael, like the rest of them, had ignored it. Each comfortable in their roles. Well, no more.
He found the rest of the guys sitting at one end of the bar. They had to open on time even though none of them wanted to. Their mother was adamant about that. They could do nothing to draw suspicion to them. Not until the commotion over the killings in the park blew over.
There were two dead men, three if you counted the one in the alleyway not far from the park. Isaiah hadn’t been lying when he’d said he’d been attacked too. Hank had gone out early to get a paper and he’d also checked out the news on the local television station.
Hank’s eyes practically bored a hole in him as he sauntered over and took a seat. “How is she?”
Michael thought about how much to tell them and decided to go with total honestly. They’d never kept secrets from one another in this pack and this was no time to start. “I don’t know.”
“Fuck.” Teague tapped his fingertips on top of the bar, his entire body practically vibrating.
“That says it all.” Kevin raised his coffee mug and saluted all of them.
“We made a mistake last night.” Hank’s pale blue eyes glittered like diamonds, hard and sharp. Deadly. “We were so caught up in the challenge we forgot to be cautious. Those hunters were on us before we knew it.”
“That’s on me.” Michael sat on one of the tall stools and rested his elbows on the edge of the bar. Kevin placed a mug of coffee in front of him and absently wiped a stain off the counter with the edge of his hand.
“Shit, man, there’s enough blame to go around.” Teague swung around on his stool. “None of us were paying attention last night. Too worried about the challenge and Isaiah.”
“Yeah.” Michael dug the heels of his hands against his eyes and sighed. That was another mess he’d helped create.
“Does Meredith know where to find Isaiah?” Kevin leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “’Cause I really think we need to talk to him.”
Michael picked up his mug and sipped his coffee. It was hot and strong, exactly what he needed. “Nope.”
“Shit.” Teague echoed his earlier sentiment.
“That about sums it up,” Hank added. “Everything is a mess.” He faced Michael. “So what are we going to do about it?”
They all looked to him. Michael straightened on the stool and shoved his coffee mug aside. He wouldn’t let his mother down. Not this time. “We watch and we wait. We don’t do anything to bring attention our way.”
“What about Isaiah?” Kevin asked.
Michael shrugged. Wasn’t much any of them could do. They’d been so busy trying to get rid of him they’d never taken the time to learn much of anything about him. “Don’t know. Maybe he’ll come back. Maybe he won’t. Either way, it’s not our call.”
Hank frowned, not looking pleased, but he nodded his agreement.
Teague nodded and slid off his stool. “I’m gonna go up and sit with Neema for a bit, help her watch Benjamin.”
They all watched him leave, not blaming him for not wanting his mate out of his sight.
Kevin picked up his half-full mug and headed toward the office. “I have some suppliers I need to deal with. You guys can open the club. I already called in the rest of the staff to cover the kitchen and waitressing duties for the day shift. It will be just family for the evening shift. Everyone should catch an extra few hours of sleep this afternoon.” He didn’t wait for a reply, but hurried off to take care of business.
Michael and Hank shared a look when they were alone in the bar. They would protect the rest of the family from whatever threat came their way.
A knock came on the front door. Hank stood and managed a friendly gesture as Tammy waved enthusiastically at him through the glass. “I’ll get the staff started and take the first watch. I’ll send someone up to wake you in a few hours. Get some rest.”
Michael nodded and Hank went to unlock the door. It was time to start their day.
Macmillan was watching Riley’s Garage when his phone rang. He welcomed the distraction. This was one hell of a boring job. After the depletion of his men last night, there was no one else to put on the job until reinforcements arrived. Mitch and his guys were working on a more important job for him.
“You’re not going to believe this,” Mitch began.
“Tell me something to make me happy.” Macmillan shifted in the front seat of his truck, ignoring the cramp in his leg.
“Bob got up on the roof of the building next door and managed to get a look in one of the windows. He saw an injured wolf lying on a bed. There was a female sitting next to him, keeping watch. And that’s not all.”
“Go on,” Macmillan prompted.
“He saw another guy carrying trash out to the dumpster behind the building. Said he was a redhead with tats and piercings. Moved real smooth. Like a werewolf.”
“I’ve never heard of a redheaded werewolf.”
“Could be a half-breed,” Mitch speculated. “Bob’s convinced he could be one of them. Said he prowled around the alley and sniffed the air before going back inside.”
“Damn.” This was gold. He hated the half-breeds even more then the pure werewolves. After all, some human man or woman had mated with one of those mutants. The products of such unnatural unions needed to be killed on principle alone. Macmillan thought for a moment and then smiled. He couldn’t afford to waste any more men. Maybe there was a way to get rid of the werewolves who’d taken out his men and a few more besides.
“You gotta pen?” he asked Mitch.
There was the sound of rustling and then Mitch was back. “Go.”
“Here’s what I want you to do.” After he finished his instructions, he disconnected and placed another call.
“Quinn.”
“It’s me. I’ve got a job for you.”
Isaiah dumped his duffle bag on the bare mattress. The room was sparse, but clean. It wasn’t really an apartment. More like a living space.
A small kitchen area was comprised of a sink, hot plate and miniscule refrigerator. The pitted blue countertop was about three feet long and there were two upper and lower cabinets.
A battered sofa, a desk and a tiny table with two chairs that had seen better days furnished the place.
A closet and a basic bathroom with toilet, sink and shower completed the space. The walls and the cabinets were painted dull beige and the floors were scuffed planks.