Large runs were harder to organize. Unlike other packs, Hudson River didn’t have as much access to open land, though they held ownership of vast acreages so they could run. Colby’s presence and lack of knowledge meant he’d warned wolves away from visiting him, yet that didn’t prove too hard. Few came to see him as it was and that did need to change.
“I’ll take care of it,” he said slowly, turning a few ideas over in his head. He’d rather concentrate on her than a large gathering.
Pierce’s long exhale spoke volumes for his relief. “Thanks for not taking that the wrong way.”
“You’re welcome.” He frowned. His wolves shouldn’t have to thank him for being reasonable. “I’m not a complete ass.”
“I would never say that.” Was he teasing?
Keeping his voice cool, Brett asked, “You would never say ‘I’m not a complete ass.’?” The silence echoed, so he let his Hunter off the hook and chuckled. “I’m aware of the issue, Pierce. Never hold things back. Even if they are unpleasant, I need to hear them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Not bothering to correct the sir, he circled back to his reason for calling him. “Do we have anyone at the SUNY campus?” Since only one was near them, he didn’t bother to specify.
“Um…Chad and Mick are there I think. Hang on a sec.” The rasp of fabric on the phone and a couple of clicks indicated Pierce verified the information he’d shared. Chad was a first year Hunter, and one who’d been in training before everything happened with Marco. Mick had been one of those hurt, taking three bullets courtesy of Marco’s gun. Irish to his core, Mick had been on his feet in two days decrying Gillian’s admonishments. Like Brett, he’d been furious about Marco’s deception and one of the first to begin investigating his fellow Hunters. His temper was the only reason Brett hadn’t considered him for lead Hunter.
“They’re in the neighborhood. Chad’s taking summer classes, so Mick tends to hang close while the kid’s there.” Another fact Brett should have known. Chad was barely twenty, and had begun his apprenticeship to the Hunters at fourteen. Thankfully, Marco had never been a fan of apprentices or Chad might very well have studied with him.
“Reach out and have them keep an eye on my guest for me. Her name is Colby Jensen, she is traveling with Gillian and Owen. They don’t have to approach, but a heads up to Owen when they are in the area is advisable. Just keep Colby in their sights if she breaks off from Owen and Gillian for any reason.”
“Anything specific you’re looking for?”
“Her safety.” He didn’t doubt she wouldn’t return to the house. Her willingness to discuss the next morning assured him of that. Though he’d tasted surprise in her scent when she readily agreed, he accepted her honesty.
“You got it. If you have a photo you can send over, I can use that to help them out. If not, we’ll make it work.”
“No,” he admitted. “No photo yet.” He would correct the oversight.
“Want us to get you some?” No disguising his intrigue or amusement.
Did he? “For informational purposes only.”
“Of course.” A beat, then, “Thank you for the faith, Brett. I swear, I won’t let you down.”
“Thank you, Pierce.” Ending the call, Brett drummed his fingers on the desk. He had a half-dozen issues he needed to take care of, not to mention meetings to take. Though it was Sunday, his businesses had investments around the world and it was already Monday in Japan. It was barely noon, however, so he had a couple of hours.
Firing off a text to his assistant in the city, he gave her the rest of the day off after she canceled and moved his meetings. Her double question mark response amused him.
It’s Sunday. Go spend some time with your family. Route emergencies to Gerald’s office.
He only had to wait a moment before she replied. Will do. When was the last time he’d taken a day off? Probably too long for her to think his call was anything but out of the ordinary. Pocketing his phone, he left the house and jogged through the drizzle to Hatcher’s.
No matter who lived in the cottage at the side of the hill, it would always be Hatcher’s to him. Brett had grown up in and around his grandfather’s house, even after his grandmother died—Hatcher remained in the home they’d built. A whole floor had been converted into a miniature hospital, complete with two rooms for patients and another two rooms upstairs if necessary. Rarely had they ever filled them.
The last time we did…. He cut the thought off. Enough about fucking Marco. Even Brett had tired of the thought chasing its tail through his mind. The bastard Hunter had discolored his interactions with everything—and everyone. At Hatcher’s, he let himself in and strode through the kitchen to the basement door. The patient rooms were downstairs. Taking the stairs two at a time, he followed his nose.