Trax and Dante couldn’t have been more different. Comparing them in other ways would serve no purpose. She stepped back into the living room and called his name again. Her stomach grumbled. She’d eat first, then figure out what the hell was going on.
Next to her plate sat a neatly penned note. Going to capture Couch. Wish me luck.
“Aw.” The last sentence was such a cute endearment.
It took her no time to inhale her meal even with only one hand. Once she was finished, she washed her dishes and placed them on the counter to dry knowing Trax would be upset if she left the place dirty. Touching their things connected her to them in an intangible way. Perhaps the act of doing housework allowed her to pretend she was part of a family.
Since she figured it would take Trax some time to find Couch, she wanted to call her friend. Poor Chelsea must be terribly worried. Liz punched in the number.
“Oh my God. Where are you? I’ve been in a panic.”
She inhaled. Telling Chelsea all the details would take a while, so she laid back on the bed and spent the next ten minutes describing all that had happened. Discussing the reason for her mom’s suicide had been the hardest to retell.
“Holy fuck, Liz. Are you telling me that in the last twenty-four hours, you tried to kill the man who raped your mom, were chased down an alley by two wolves who turned into men, and made love with a hot protector?”
Even she couldn’t believe it. “That about sums it up.”
Chelsea whistled. “So now what happens?”
She loved that her best friend didn’t lecture her on the attempted murder or the subsequent sex. “I have to wait here until Trax captures Couch.”
“And if he doesn’t succeed?”
Her breath hitched. “I’ll be spending the rest of my life cooped up in a fabulous loft apartment making love to two hot men?” Even though it was a joke, juices dampened her panties and her heart skipped a beat. She feared she’d just spoken her secret desire out loud, and that was so not good.
Chapter Eight
Trax didn’t want anything to go wrong with the operation. Tons of reasons existed why he wanted to succeed, none more important than him returning Liz home. Having her in his house fucked with his head too much.
Christ. Did he have to kiss her? What was he? A horny teenager? He never lost control. Until now.
She’s our mate. Dante’s words came back to him. Whether it was true or not, and he suspected it was, he couldn’t afford the distraction.
“Can’t see any movement inside, Trax.” Drake Stanton pressed his lips together but kept the binoculars glued to his face.
He and Kurt had spent as many hours as he had watching Couch, while Clay Demmers and Dirk Tilton uncovered the drug connection. All of them had a stake in bringing down this Colter.
Dirk had informed him of some scuttle from the cops about Couch. If their group didn’t neutralize him soon and the cops got involved, the shit would hit the fan.
“Wait a sec.” Drake focused on the front window. “I see a help wanted sign.”
“That makes sense since Liz never showed up to work today.”
Clay moved next to him. “What do you want us to do?”
If Couch wasn’t there, they didn’t need to be wasting any more time staking out his office. “Let’s go in through the back.”
With their handguns loaded with wolf-poisoning bullets, they moved to the alley. Trax tested the steel door that led to Au Pairs for U. No surprise, it was locked. He pulled out his lock picks and, in seconds, opened the door. If he’d failed, they would have used a battering ram, and that would have made too much noise, something they couldn’t afford. While no one was in the alley, they didn’t need to draw any spectators.
Trax held up his hand to silence the four men. He led the way but slowed when he didn’t sense the Colter nearby. He motioned for Kurt to check the office and for Clay to look in the other room. Ten seconds later, they reappeared.
“Nothing,” Clay said.
“Me neither,” Kurt announced. “I didn’t see his laptop or much of anything. It looks like he’s gone.”
“Fuck.” Trax stabbed a hand over his head. “Grab the computer Liz used. Maybe there’s something useful on it.”
Drake unplugged then gathered the laptop. “Now what?”
“Let’s check out his house.”
Clay stepped over to the coffee cup full of coffee and touched it. “It’s still warm.”
That meant they missed the bastard by minutes. “I’ll see if headquarters can get a lock on his phone’s GPS.” He doubted they’d be successful, as Couch would know that would be the first thing the Pack would check.