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He snarled, deep and violent.
Sterling took one step forward. “Touch her, and you’re going through that window.”
“Not this time, half-breed,” Jerron snarled.
Sterling grinned. “Marcella isn’t here to save you this time, pup.”
“Tell that to your arm.”
“Take it outside,” Bill said, voice wavering a bit. “Or I’m going to call the sheriff.”
The sheriff was probably fifty miles away. I shot Jerron a grin and stepped around him. “Time for me to go. For good this time.”
Sterling followed.
As we got to the truck, Jerron’s voice reached like a hand on my shoulder. “I guess Anais didn’t tell you everything.”
My brother rarely succeeded in sounding quite so competently malevolent. Sterling said, “I almost think you have something interesting to say.”
Jerron grinned and ran his hand through his hair, the very picture of boyish devilry. “Since the box didn’t have anything I want, we really don’t have anything to talk about. But you should call MaryAnne. She might be more forthcoming.”
“About?” Sterling asked.
“I’m not surprised Anais didn’t tell you. I wonder if she told the EarthSpine. Maybe. I guess they wouldn’t have told you. You’d have probably left her with me and they’d have had to go crawling to someone else.” Jerron dangled the information in front of us like meat.
I was not in the mood. “You’re an idiot for menacing her.”
He ignored my snark. “Dad forgot to file some important paperwork. Anais left before she could convince me it would be in my best interests to sign it. If she’d given me the key she could have convinced me, but just as well she didn’t. Mom must have been hitting the pain meds pretty hard.”
“You’re disgusting.” He still acted like Mom’s illness was some inconvenience. Like she’d done it on purpose. Like fuck that bitch, thank Gaia she’s gone and out of the way.
Jerron smirked. “I am Alpha, and you aren’t as clever as you think. Nice try, though.”
“You’re a painful idiot.” I got into the truck and slammed the door behind me. He waggled his fingers at his head in the classic call me gesture.
“What was that about?” Sterling put the truck into reverse.
I slid down in my seat, grateful I wasn’t driving. I was ready for a bath and nap and maybe somewhere in there some food. Something about pilot duty hours were going to keep us in Montana until five the next morning, but a free continental breakfast at a truckstop motel sounded fine. “I think he thinks we aren’t officially mates?”
Sterling huffed a laugh. “Really. Did someone hit him in the head?”
“You hit him in the head, dear.”
“So I did.” He pretended to remember.
“We have better things to worry about than my incompetent megalomaniac brother.” I slid lower. “Someone tell me why Daniel and Arnold suffer him as Alpha. He shouldn’t even be let out into public unattended.”
Sterling reflected, then said, “You know a lot of things you shouldn’t. Perhaps Jerron has information that keeps Daniel and Arnold in line. When he decides to use his brain, he’s not stupid.”
“Then I guess I should call MaryAnne,” I said. “Because the Jerron that made that threat wasn’t the fool.”
Jerron 1, Winter 0
Our motel sat on the northern edge of town along the eastbound lane of the interstate. It had a tiny pool and a green hot tub, and shared a spread of asphalt with a gas station, a seedy casino, and a greasy diner. As far as motels went, it was respectable. Any farther west or east of town and the only “motel” you’d find would be a room above someone’s store, or the very sketchy place that rented rooms by the hour.
The bedspread was hideous brown-orange, and there was ghastly box-framed watercolor landscapes strapped to the walls. The carpet had a brown-and-gold-green swirly pattern clearly inspired by vomit.
“I’m going to shave,” Sterling said, scratching his scruff.
