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Dirty Alphas Page 17
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She takes it as if the smartphone is fragile. “What are the chances he lost his phone on the one day everyone is trying to find him?” Staring at the screen, her happiness visibly fades and her shoulders slump. “Crap, I don’t know the password to get into his phone.”
“Come again?” I ask. “You don’t know your boyfriend’s phone password? You live with him, and you don’t know his phone password?”
Macklin leans his elbows on the couch, looking over at us. “It’s because Zane is cheating on her—and deep down, Scarlet knows that.”
Scarlet’s nostrils flare, and she throws back her head, like this is something Mack says all the time. “No—it’s because he gets confidential calls from patients. He. Is. A. Doctor.”
Prince Macklin gives me an almost amused look, but there is some irritation glinting in his blue eyes as well—as if this accusation has almost turned into a joke between them, but Mack’s anger about it is still boiling right under the surface. “But…Zane knows Scarlet’s phone password and checks every incoming text on her phone.”
Right. Like that’s not a red flag.
“I am not a doctor, and he does not check all my text messages,” she mumbles.
“Give it here.” I say, holding out my hand for the phone, and when Scarlet hands it over, I ask, “What is his birthday?”
“October twenty-third,” she says.
I type in one, zero, two, tree, and the lock screen falls away to reveal a background photo of Scarlet and Zane—where I can’t help noticing Zane looks to be again restraining Scarlet. “And we are in,” I say, handing over the phone.
“Scar,” Macklin says as a smile blossoms over his features, consuming the man’s whole face, “his password was his own birthday—one, zero, two, three. You never even tried to get into his phone once, did you?”
Shaking her head, she ignores Macklin and thumbs through Zane’s call log.
“The pack-house early in the night, and then nothing—damn it.”
Both Mack and I come to either side of her and look over her shoulder as she closes the phone app and swipes over to his text message app. Scarlet holds her thumb above the text message app as if she isn’t quite ready to see what’s inside.
Macklin leans in so close, he looks like his lips might be brushing Scarlet’s ear. “He could be in danger. If you don’t look, and there’s some clue there—”
Scarlet presses the app, swallowing hard as she does. Her gaze moves over the screen, and she clenches her jaw before pressing another button.
Knowing I’m invading this guy Zane’s privacy, and not caring in the least, I lean in and read a long line of messages over Scarlet’s shoulder.
Zane: What are you doing tonight?
The hospital: Busy. Leave me alone and go fuck my sister.
Zane: She won’t sleep with me until we’re mated, I told you that. She’s killing me, and I keep thinking about you.
The hospital: You are so full of shit.
Zane: A person can love two people at once.
The hospital: says the guy who only wants blow jobs in alleys from me.
Zane: There’s a vacant apartment in my building—I snagged the key from downstairs.
The hospital: I’m not giving you another blow job, asshole.
Zane: I’m not asking for one. I told you that I love you, and I want to show you.
Scarlet just stares for a minute before she thumbs back to the phone app. “And he called the pack-house right after—right before he showed up there and found me. At which point he made out with me and tried to get me to skip practice. I left. He went into the pack-house…the vacant apartment,” Scarlet mumbles. Blowing out a breath, she pushes off the couch and limps toward the door.
I turn to Mack, who is gripping the couch like he is trying to break it. Fury is rising in my chest as well, and my wolf is just below the surface. From this guy Zane’s scent, I know he isn’t the man-eater, but obviously, he’s still a waste of space.
“Are you going to rip this dickhead’s head off?” I growl as my fingers elongate into claws. “Because if you’re not planning to do it, I'll be happy to.”
When our gazes meet, an understanding passes between us. I think I just might respect this fae prince.
Macklin bares his teeth in a very wolfish gesture before saying, “I think that pleasure is going to be Scarlet’s.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Scarlet
The first thing I notice when we get to apartment one-hundred-five is that, thankfully, a key is totally unnecessary.
The door is unlocked.
I raise my eyebrows at this and glance back quickly at my backup, when the world spins and I stumble. I feel two sets of gentle, warm hands steady me. Mack has my right arm, Aaron is on my left.
I get the strangest sense of belonging with the two of them surrounding me like that, working together to keep me from falling apart. I rest my head against Mack’s shoulder and take a deep breath. “I really don’t want to go in through this door, but I have to know they’re there.”
I have to know they're alive.
I have to know whether they really betrayed me.
“Or one of us could go in,” Mack says. “I can’t take much more of seeing you hurt yourself over this asshole, Scarlet. You’re probably injuring yourself further, and the dick doesn’t deserve another moment of your time.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” Aaron says.
“No…” I sigh. “If I can take on three werewolf soldiers at once, I should be able to face this.”
“Seven,” Aaron corrects under his breath.
Oh yeah, it was seven. But why is this so much more terrifying? It’s as if my bones have turned to lead and they’re refusing to move me forward. Sucking in a steadying breath, I turn the handle.
The layout is basically the same as Zane and my apartment since this is a one-bedroom unit. It’s just completely blank with white walls. This unit has a thick brown carpet I personally shampooed a few weeks ago. I’d had to get down on my hands and knees to scrub out some of the stains—for some reason, thinking about that sends a stab of hurt through me.
A cursory glance lets me know Zane and my sister aren’t in the living room or kitchen.
Aaron makes his way around me to head down the hallway and open up the bedroom door. He pulls back abruptly and flicks his eyes toward me. I don’t like the fury I see there.
“They’re there?” I whisper as I follow Macklin down the hallway.
“Yeah.”
Longest hallway ever.
As we get closer to the room, I can hear soft music coming from the bedroom. Aaron steps back as Mack and I come into full view of the room’s occupants.
And there, on a pile of our spare blankets stretched out over the floor, surrounded by a trail of rose petals, is none other than my boyfriend Zane, naked as the day he was born, sprawled out next to my sister…who also happens to be naked.
“They seem to be heavy sleepers,” Aaron says in a tight voice.
I nod to the three bottles of vodka next to the bed. “That would make even a werewolf a heavy sleeper.”
“Scar?” Mack grabs my hands and squeezes them, forcing me to tear my eyes from this horrific scene. “I’m so sorry. I’ve never been so sorry to be so right about something.”
Aaron growls low in the back of his throat.
“Can we just leave, Scarlet?” Mack asks. “You shouldn’t have to see this after the ordeal you’ve been through.”
The weirdest thing happens as I stand over my sister and Zane’s supine forms. It all, suddenly, feels kind of funny. Zane, the man who was so obsessed with keeping me so virginal, was truly cheating on me. He wasn’t just cheating on me, he was doing it with my sister—the sister he always called a slut.
“What a hypocrite,” I say through a laugh.
Sudden hot tears course down my face as a warm feeling bubbles up in my chest. “Oh, thank goodness. I was going to mate with him. Oh my…I was actually
going to mate with him, and he was this person all along.”
It’s at that moment my sister stirs and finally opens her eyes to see me, Aaron, and Mack in the doorway. She blinks her eyes in confusion, looking a bit groggy. Then she really focuses in on me, and all the color drains from her face.
“Hi, Zeezee. So glad you’re not being held hostage somewhere…or dead.” I laugh through the words, somehow unable to hold back my mirth. “I was really worried about that.”
“Scarlet, shit,” she says, pushing sweaty brown hair out of her face. “I can explain…why are you laughing?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I’m just feeling really relieved, I guess. You’re both alive. I don’t need to risk Dad’s life or mine to come save you, since you two were just being self-centered assholes as usual. I get to break up with Zane, which, until now, I’ve been fighting even though it’s what I’ve wanted to do for a long time. I’m never going to have to bail you out again, ever—because I’m forever cutting you off. It’s like I’ve been dragging around boulders…” I gesture to my shoulders. “And now I realize I don’t have to.”
“Um…” Zeezee shakes Zane, who wakes up just as groggy and disoriented as her until he spots me and the crew I brought to save their asses from a possible hostage situation.
Yeah. Not needed, apparently. These two weren’t kidnapped. They were carrying on an affair behind my back—probably for a while now.
Zane pales even more than my sister, looking sick. “Scarlet.” He looks mortified and guilty all at once, sitting up in the makeshift bed and running a hand through his hair. “Scarlet, I was going to tell you. I’m so sorry you had to find out like this.”
“No, it’s great. You two are absolutely perfect for each other—” I pause as I notice a shiny gold mark, in the shape of a stylized face, on Zane’s right shoulder that makes my stomach flip. I check Zeezee’s shoulder to confirm what I know is already true. She shares the same mark.
They’re true mates.
True mates are as rare as they are cherished among wolves. Many werewolves never find their true mate. The probability of your true mate being in your own pack is slim. They could be anywhere in the world—and traveling by sea is impossible. Some werewolves spend their whole lives searching.
Even if you think you’ve found your mate, there’s only one way to confirm it. Sex. That’s how it works. Having sex with your true mate sets off a chemical reaction within your body, revealing a unique symbol.
According to my parents, who are each experts in their own way, it’s more complicated than that, but I’ve never pretended to understand the magical or chemical properties surrounding the true mate bond. I just know what it is, what it does, and how it looks.
And right now, it looks like my two-year relationship with Zane was me monopolizing my sister’s mate. On the one hand, I can appreciate the beauty of this. That my sister found her true mate. That she and Zane have been given a precious gift coveted by every shifter alive.
Then reality kicks in, knowing they had sex before they figured that out—probably with every intention of keeping me in the dark about their affair and maintaining business as usual.
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m not going to be happy for you two. I’m sticking with overwhelmingly relieved to have an excuse to cut you both from my life.” I turn toward the door.
“Scarlet, wait,” Zane calls before I hear a lot of shuffling, and he’s suddenly beside me. “Just, can we talk?”
“Seriously?” I look pointedly down at his dick because he’s buck ass naked and standing way too close for comfort.
“Yeah, seriously, Zane?” Zeezee calls, sounding weary. “You’re fucking naked. She doesn’t want to talk to either of us. Leave her alone.”
When I make to turn back to the door again, Zane grabs my arm. “What if we don’t break up? Werewolves can have more than one true mate, and I’ve always felt like I had a special connection with both of you. I didn’t go about this the right way, but I—”
“Zane, let go of me before I hurt you,” I say as I try to shake my arm free, but he only grips me tighter.
“Scarlet, just listen to me for a second. I love you.”
“Zane,” growls Zeezee, “unhand my sister, or I’ll hurt you. She doesn’t fucking want you.”
There’s Zeezee, speaking Zeezee again. The funniest thing about this is that I don’t even feel surprised or betrayed by my sister. I’m just over her shit. But in some twisted Zeezee way, she probably slept with Zane because she thought she was protecting me—or maybe she didn’t care whatsoever about my feelings. With her, it’s a fifty-fifty chance.
The betrayal is all on Zane’s side. Zeezee never pretends to be anything different than what she is, but Zane is still trying to spin a web of lies around me, hoping to ensnare me back into his control.
“Zane, I’m injured, and I really don’t want to break your hand.” I sigh the words because he’s not letting me go, but I don’t want to physically fight him.
Mack must sense my dilemma because he does the most wonderful thing I think anyone could have done in this situation. Within two seconds he reaches Zane’s side, pulls back his fist, and hammers it into my dirty, cheating, boyfriend’s jaw with a ferocity that leaves me breathless. Zane’s head snaps back, and he falls against the bed.
“Stay down, Zane Reed,” Aaron says, his voice echoing with power. “And never touch Scarlet again.”
Zane groans on the floor, rubbing his face but thankfully not getting up.
“Well, that happened,” Zeezee says as she flops down next to her mate, picks up one of the vodka bottles and upends it.
Mack opens and closes his fist. “I’ve been wanting to do that to this asshole for years.”
“Thank you, Mack,” I say before throwing down Zane’s phone. “You probably should let our parents and Dr. Reed know you two are okay, Zeezee. The whole pack thinks you’ve been abducted.”
“Why would we be abducted?” Zeezee asks.
“A group of bounty hunter werewolves attacked me and told me there’s a team going after Zane as well. They said they plan to kill him—that’s why I was searching for him so desperately.” I blow out a breath. “Dad thinks they’ll be hunting for you too, Zeezee, that it’s some sort of takeover attempt.”
Zane’s head pops up. “Kill me? What the hell, Scarlet? Why would they be after me?”
“Because you’re the alpha’s daughter’s boyfriend, dumbass,” Zeezee says before taking another swig. “You didn’t think that would come with risks?”
“What have you gotten me into?” Zane yells at me before slashing his hand through the air. “And you’re just going to fucking break up with me and leave me to die?”
Next to him, Zeezee rolls her eyes.
“Go to your mate’s father. I’m sure he’ll protect you,” I say.
Zane’s wolf peeks out through his eyes, glaring at me. His control when it comes to his wolf has always been impressive—so my guess is, this is very much intentional.
Is he threatening me?
The urge to let my wolf rise and scare the living shit out of him takes me, but I let it pass. I would be revealing my alpha status, and Zane is the opposite of worth it. “As your property manager, I expect you two to pay for a professional carpet cleaning service to come in here. You also need to return the key within twenty-four hours. I’d call the cops on you, but my dad’s the one who’d end up footing the legal bill for you two—which would mean I’d probably end up having to pay for it. Anyway, Zane, I want you to move out of our apartment by Monday.”
“I’m not going anywhere, and you can’t make me,” Zane says, doing an amazing impression of someone one-tenth his age.
“Oh, yes, yes, I can—and I’ll be moving out right now,” I say, feeling exhausted at just the thought. Sighing, I turn toward the door and trudge out of apartment one-hundred-five.
Chapter Twenty-two
Scarlet
Moving out of my apartment c
onsists of throwing all my clothing and a toothbrush into a suitcase and walking out into my hall. Then I stand there in my hall, realizing I have nowhere to move to. My sister lives in the pack-house, which is also my childhood home. I can’t live with Mack at the fae High Court, for obvious reasons, and all my other high school friends outside of the pack moved away to go to colleges all over the country.
New York is obviously out.
The whole predicament really pisses me off because my apartment with Zane is part of my paycheck—I get a free unit included in my job. He just pays the utilities—something he griped about a few times, as he thought that was uneven since I put in no actual money. The apartment should be mine, but I’m not staying to fight over it.
So, I just stand there, absolutely despising the situation I’ve landed myself in and having no idea where to go.
Aaron smiles, takes the handle of my suitcase from me, and rolls it over to the staircase. From there, he carries the bag up the remaining stories with me and Mack trailing behind. We all walk into his apartment, and he deposits my bag next to his bed. Without saying a word, he empties out three drawers of his dresser and stuffs the contents in his closet.
Then Aaron heads for the door to his room and turns at the frame. He taps the wood as he regards me and Mack. “I’m guessing you two need some time to talk or rest or whatever. My room is your room, alright? And I’ll be out here if you guys want company.”
With that, he leaves me and Mack alone, closing the door behind him.
Twenty minutes later, I find myself lying on soft flannel sheets that smell like Aaron, wrapped in my best friend’s arms, and fighting off sleepiness. Mack’s front presses up against the length of my back as his arms wrap around me. His face nuzzles into the crook of my shoulder, and I’m not quite sure if he’s asleep or not. Spooning with Mack is a long-held tradition, a tradition Zane tried to put a firm stop to, even though he often cuddled with pack wolves.