“What’s wrong?” he asked, still learning to hone the skills the adults took for granted.
Jess didn’t answer him, simply jumped to her feet and charged up the stairs to her apartment. Johnny followed behind her, nearly crashing into her when she stopped right in her doorway.Hands on hips, Jess snapped, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Smitty folded his arms across his chest. “Came to see you, my little sweet tart.”
Sweet tart?
Why was there a drunken wolf in her apartment? How did he even get in? The only way to the second entrance to her apartment was to get over the Pack house fence and cut through their backyard.
A house full of dogs and no one scented a wolf wandering by? A drunk wolf?
“I thought we said all that needed to be said this afternoon.”
“Nah.” He spotted Johnny over her shoulder. “Boy.”
“Idiot.”
Smitty took a step forward and Jess pushed Johnny out the door. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
The concern on Johnny’s face warmed her heart. “Jess, are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fine.”
He didn’t look happy about it, but he left anyway.
Jess closed the door and turned around to find Smitty standing mere inches away from her.
“You look real pretty tonight.”
“Thanks.”
“I missed you something horrible.”
“It’s been eight hours.”
“That’s too long!”
“Ssssh.” Jess pushed Smitty away from the door. “Keep it down.”
“I want to stay here with you tonight.”
“No.”
“Why not? Don’t you care about me at all?”
“Smitty, this isn’t fair.”
“All’s fair in love and fucking.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not the exact quote. How did you even get here?” Christ, she hoped he hadn’t been driving.
“Sissy shoved me into a cab. She said we should talk. So I’m here to talk.”
Damn that woman!
“You pushed me away, Smitty. That’s the second time. There won’t be a third.”
“Okay,” he said way too calmly. Then added, “So you’ll let me stay?”
Jess gritted her teeth. “No, I’ll call you a cab.”
“Fine. Be evil.” He took her arm and pulled her into his body. “At least give me a kiss, evil woman.”
“Smitty—”
“Kiss. Me. Now.”
“You’ll leave quietly if I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
Resigned and kind of wanting to anyway, Jess slid her hand behind Smitty’s neck and pulled him down so she could kiss him. He tasted like tequila, the wolf drink of choice. But, truly, tequila never tasted so damn good. His hands stroked her neck, his tongue making lazy circles around hers. The kiss seemed endless and she wished it could be. When Smitty kissed her, she could forget nearly everything else.
His hands slipped from her neck and reached for her breasts. She caught them and pulled away.
“That’s enough.”
Smitty licked his lips. “I knew it.”
“Knew what?”
“You’re not over me.”
Jess took a deep breath, looking around for something to throw at that big head when Smitty’s next words stopped her in her tracks.
“Don’t feel bad,” he said, wandering into the bedroom, “I’m never gettin’ over you.”
Jess followed after him, her heart soaring. “What?”
“You’re dug in... like a tic.”
Running her hands through her hair, she asked, “You’re comparing me to a parasite?”
“That’s a negative way to see it.”
She snatched the cordless phone off her chest of drawers. “I’m calling you a cab.”
“Okay.” Smitty stumbled to the bed. “I’ll just lay down until the cab comes.”
“No, no. Don’t—”
Too late. As she knew, as soon as his big fat head hit her mattress he was out like a light. She hung up the phone. She would not force a cabbie to endure pouring a Smith into the back of his vehicle.
Giving up, Jess turned off all the lights in her apartment and kicked off her sneakers. Fully dressed, she got into bed beside Smitty. As soon as the bed dipped, his arm reached out and pulled her close to his body.
“Let me go.”
He muttered something and went back to snoring.
“Trifling,” she growled. “Absolutely trifling.”
CHAPTER 22
He sensed the danger before he fully awoke. Could feel it running up to him, flying at him. All he could do was brace himself for impact... and then bam!
“Wake up! Wake up!”
“He’s pretty. When I grow up I want one just like him.”
“He smells like Uncle Petey after Thanksgiving dinner.”
“He looks mean.”
“Waaaake uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuupppp!”
Smitty raised his head and looked at the six pups crawling all over his back and legs. Jessie Ann would definitely go down in history as the meanest woman to ever walk the planet.
A tiny fist banged against his forehead, causing immeasurable pain. “Auntie Jess wanted us to tell you to get your butt out of bed.” The little girl grinned now that she’d delivered her message.
Smitty cleared his throat. “Thank you. I’m on it.”
“Great!” she yelled, causing his head to split open and all the contents to fall out. Or so it felt like.
“There’s waffles waiting. But you better come on. Once the older kids start feeding, forget it.”
“Any chance you’ll go away while I get up?”
“No,” they all answered in unison.
“Of course.”
“Auntie Jess wants us to make sure you get up. But you need to hurry because we’re leaving soon.”
Yawning, Smitty forced himself up. “Leaving?”
“Yup, for the weekend.” She gave him that pretty smile again. “It’s Johnny’s birthday. So you need to go. After you eat. Because we’re leaving. And no one seems to like you.”
Smitty stared at the little blond girl. “Your momma’s Sabina, isn’t she?”
“How did you know?”
“Wild guess.”
Jess finished her waffle and took her plate to the sink. She’d filled the adults in on the entire Walt Wilson situation, including everything she’d learned since the day before. Once done they’d gone on to pack and get their kids ready. From the main four, she’d gotten the reactions she’d learn to expect over the years. Sabina wanted to stalk and decimate the entire Wilson Pack. May took full responsibility for something that wasn’t her fault. Danny saw doom. And Phil said nothing, which meant he’d already plotted and planned the violent death of Walt Wilson.That’s the thing about the Kuznetsov Pack that many didn’t understand. They weren’t a sweet dog Pack who had grown up among their own kind. Nearly every one of them was a street dog. Pit fighters who’d kept their Pack together and alive by doing whatever necessary. They were survivors and they protected their own.
“What do you want us to do?” Phil asked.
“I want him tracked down. Smitty’s got someone on it, but call in some of our old buddies.” She turned from the sink and faced her friends. “If he really just wants to see his daughter, I won’t stop him. But if he’s just using her—all bets are off. Understand me?”
Her Pack nodded, even though she could see May on the verge of tears. Jess walked over to her, stroked her hair, and kissed the top of her head. “Don’t cry, May. We’ll handle this.”
“I don’t want any of you to go to prison, and y’all are plotting something that will send you to prison.”
Jess grinned, knowing May was right. “We’ll worry about all that next week, sweetie. We’ve got plans this weekend. And Kristan will be with us. Safe. So let’s get to it. We’ve gotta get these bratty-brats dressed, packed, and buckled up before we can even think about getting on the road. And pack enough for after the weekend. Don’t forget we’re not coming straight home. Mace’s team will be setting up den security next week.”
As they all stood Smitty wandered into the kitchen, pups hanging off him like monkeys.
He glared at her with bloodshot eyes. “Jessie Ann.” Her name had never been filled with such accusation before.
All sweetness, “Morning, Bobby Ray.”
“Think you can help me out here?”
“But you look like you’re handling it so well.”
“Jessie Ann,” he snarled through clenched teeth, making the pups giggle.
May and Danny removed the children from Smitty’s body and sent them to their rooms to start packing. Sabina sat Smitty down at the kitchen table while Phil pulled waffles out of the warmer. May filled up two glasses, one with milk and one with orange juice. Sabina brought him coffee.
“Kind of got this down to a science,” Smitty noted as he clung to the coffee mug like his life depended on it.
“So many kids,” Jess said, “we have no choice.”
Jess poured herself a mug of coffee, and as she placed the pot back in the machine, she said, “I’m going upstairs to pack. When I come down, you’ll be gone.” She patted his cheek. “See ya.”
One stubby Russian finger poked him in the head. “How did you screw up? Are you slow?”
“Don’t poke my head.”
“Don’t pick on him.” May topped off his coffee. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”