“What?” He cocked his head. “Can’t hear you, Archer. Speak up.”
I kept murmuring as his smile faltered.
“What the fuck are you saying?”
I murmured it again.
Redwood leaned closer, turning his head until his ear was only inches from my mouth.
Exactly what I wanted.
I snapped my head forward.
Bone crunched beneath my forehead.
Redwood reeled backward with a howl, both hands flying to his face as blood poured between his fingers.
“Fuck! You fucking bitch!”
Teller lurched toward me, but I was already laughing.
“Graves will believe me.”
That stopped him.
Redwood stared at me over his blood-soaked hands, his broken nose already swelling.
“And then he’ll kill all three of you,” I said as I held Redwood’s stare, my smile widening. “If I don’t beat him to it.”
Chapter 22: Sammy Hayes
After a few rounds of cards and four beers, I’d finally burned off enough steam to hit the sack. Maeve was going to kill me if I woke her, so I tiptoed down the hall and opened our door slower than molasses, slipping inside before quickly shutting it so the hallway light wouldn’t spill into the room.
I braced for impact, fully expecting her to throw something at me for waking her up.
Nothing happened.
I glanced toward her bed.
It was empty.
I whispered, “Maeve?” and glanced around, half expecting her to pop out from some dark corner just to scare the shit out of me.
Silence was my only answer.
“Huh.” I rubbed the back of my head, checking the time.
It was already midnight. Somehow, I’d let the entire evening get away from me, and we had training first thing in the morning.
Maybe she’s with Graves.
The thought sent me back into the hallway. I stopped outside his door and pressed my ear against it, hoping to catch the murmur of voices or movement from inside.
Nothing.
Damn. I could really use alpha hearing right about now.
I hesitated, then knocked softly. If they were both asleep in there, they’d probably kill me for waking them up. But a strange worry churned in my gut, and I couldn’t shake it.