C4 Low profile

Down, boy, I silently commanded my member as it rose at the thought of Kearny's sweet fruit . But his fruit was also biting like its owner, ready to sink its teeth into my balls if I wasn't careful.

Damn it.

I needed to move. No Mary yet. So I paced the floor of my office and ended up at the framed picture on the alliance wall. There we were, together as one force, my friends and brothers, and men who were all alphas of their own pack. And with whom I had joined when James had founded the alliance many years ago.

James had money and made it work in our best interest. Including keeping our packs hidden and off the map. Hidden villages. Hidden homes. All secret thanks to the people he knew and the money that passed from hand to hand. We focused on investments, investing in the places we monitored, in the people, in security, in our mini-economies. That meant running a couple of people-oriented companies, sitting on boards of directors to have more control. But I didn't mind. Although it irritated some of my siblings, who preferred the isolation of the woods.

Kira . His pack was the closest. He had also been an irritable bugger lately. I had no idea what was wrong with him. He also needed to wake up and smell the coffee as far as Mary was concerned. She had been in love with him since she was a little girl, but Kira never realized it. It's not like I get involved in that shit. It's their business, not mine.

Harry . He was wallowing in grief after losing Mara , juggling caring for a child and writing his books under an elusive pseudonym. He had chosen a creative line of investment , which allowed him to remain locked in his tower of a house . Then there was James , a man who struggled to run from his past, though he drew on it often to keep us abreast of the times and security. And me. The target of a sadistic bastard who saw the herd as his all these years later, as I tended my people and worked with my wood. The trees, too.

We were a sorry lot, looking strong and denying weakness. But we were all unhinged without a partner by our side. And deep down, we knew it. Even if we tried to deny it.

The phone rang, thank goodness, and I answered, eager for information. I would find out who the stranger was who had come into our town and, if she had any relation to Scott Smith , I would enjoy making him suffer.

Lara San

"Mary , I can't take it," I said to the sweet mechanic who had gone out of her way to make me feel welcome since my arrival in Woods Creek.

The town had surprised me by how modern and large it looked, tucked away in the trees. How had they kept this place quiet? Surely the planes and satellites in the sky must have known of its existence.

Looks like someone had enough money to grease a few hands.

"Nonsense," Mary replied to my cries of guilt. "The part won't arrive for a few days. I'll feel better knowing you have a car to get around."

"But it's your car."

"It's the shop's car. We lend it to people when they need it. To people like you." He thrust the keys into my hand. "The car isn't the best, but it'll get you around town. I wish I could lend it to you longer so you could go to your aunt's funeral."

More guilt turned my stomach. I had lied to him, of course, telling him I was on my way to my aunt's funeral when the car broke down. I needed a viable reason to be so far away.

I was surprised I had brought my stupid "remove the drain plug" trick when I realized the extent of his competence, but I had done it, hence the need to order the part. And while cheating was part of my job, it irritated me with someone like Mary . She had been nothing but sweet and helpful to me since towing my truck into her garage.

The woman, who was barely over five feet tall and wore her midnight-colored curly hair pulled back in a ponytail, didn't look like an ordinary mechanic. But with the oil smeared on her face, the black spots on her hands and the way she carried herself, competence shone through.

"I called my family when I had the first breakdown," I lied, hating every word that came out of my mouth. "They know I'm fine and I'll get there when I can." I squeezed the keys he'd given me, grateful to have another reason to explore the city now that I had four wheels to do so. "I appreciate that. And for pointing me to a good place to stay."

He had already informed me of the only inn in town. A beautiful place near town. she was Mary mable and genuine, and she dared to probe my vulnerabilities with all that was going on back home. I wanted to spill all my woes to her, and that was dangerous.

Mary hesitated, but then said, "We're all here to help. Paul, the creek owner. He's all about family and helping those in need. That's kind of the philosophy around here." You may know him while you're here. But not today. He's away on business. He'll be back tomorrow." She interrupted herself, but perked up again. "You said you were an artist, right?"

"Yes. That's right. both the truth and my cover. Never lie about what you can't back up with proof or more lies. And it took me a second to digest that Paul Reed was really here, even if he was out of town, but he was here. I could check him out, see if he matched the sketch and go from there.

Mary smiled and said to me, "Sam owns the hardware store. He has some art supplies. He pretty much sells everything. Take a look around while you're stuck in here."

"Yes. I might just do that. Thanks."

"We also have a library, if you like to read. Just tell Sansa , who runs it, that I said you can borrow any book with my card."

I laughed. "You know all my weak spots, Mary . Are you sure you're not psychic?"

"Ah, yes, psychic mechanic. I'm sure the world needs one of those." She smiled. "But I'm sure everyone loves a good book. And it will help you pass the time."

"Sounds like a great idea to me. Thanks again."