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Crouching down, Colt curled his fingers into Eric’s shirtfront, a deep growl rumbling in his chest. “What my brother is trying to say is we know you took your violent temper out on Milo. I’m going to pack his things while the mountain behind me babysits you. Make one move to stop us and we’ll do to you what you did to your nephew, only you won’t survive.”
The need to beat Eric bloody rode Colt hard, but he had to get Milo’s things. He stepped over the jaguar shifter and headed into the kitchen, looking around for trash bags. He found a box on top of the fridge and grabbed it before heading to Milo’s bedroom. He didn’t have to guess. Milo had been very specific which room was his.
As Colt stepped into the bedroom, he noticed the lack of personal belongings. The room was sparsely furnished with only a bed, nightstand, and dresser in sight. The walls were bare, devoid of any decorations or personal touches that might make the bedroom feel like a home.
As he opened the closet, his eyes landed on the empty top shelf and the few clothes hanging limply on hangers. Colt grabbed the clothes and the photo album off the floor, using a trash bag to store them.
When he went to the dresser, he saw that more than half of the drawers were empty. Only two held a small amount of clothing inside. It was clear that his mate didn’t have much in terms of possessions, and it tugged at Colt’s heartstrings to see such a simple and barren living space.
Fuck if it wasn’t the same scenario as Colt had when he lived with his mom.
The only difference was that Milo couldn’t afford to buy himself things while Colt’s mother refused to give her children anything beyond the bare necessities.
He carefully lifted the jewelry box up and sat on top of the dresser and then pulled the list from his pocket. There was no way Colt could miss anything since there wasn’t much in the room to begin with, but he scanned the list, nonetheless.
With everything checked off, Colt grabbed the half-full bag and walked back to the living room. He set the bag on the porch before he went back inside. Eric was now seated on the couch, a can of beer in his hand. The guy must like the taste because nonhumans couldn’t get drunk from it.
His gaze fell on something sitting on the end table. The dark red bottle had a slender neck that led to a wide base. It was Red Spanking, alcohol that was made specifically for preternatural who wanted to get wasted.
How many times had Colt consumed the liquor just to forget his past? What pissed him off was the fact that Eric left it out in the open, uncaring that Milo might have helped himself to some.
If Colt’s mate had drunk any, the potency would have killed him.
Crossing the room, Colt lifted the bottle and threw it against the wall, smashing it into a million pieces as the liquid splashed everywhere.
Eric shot off the couch with a low yowl. “Do you know how much that cost me?”
“Do you know what that would have cost Milo if he’d drank any of it?” Colt snarled as his canines descended.
“He’s not coming back here anyway.” Eric narrowed his eyes. “He owes me money. I might have let you come in here and grab his shit, but if he doesn’t give me what he owes me, I’ll—”
Colt whipped his arm out, grabbing Eric around the throat. “You’ll what?” he growled. “Fuck it.” Colt threw Erick to the floor so hard the room slightly shook. The guy shifted into his jaguar, twisted free, and leapt at him, claws out.
With a menacing growl, Colt dodged left then curled his arms around the cat, slamming Eric back down to the floor. Then Colt unleashed on him, driving his fists into the jaguar’s side, still not satisfied when he heard ribs crack.
Eric shifted back into his human form and tried to swing at Colt.
“You want to beat on a helpless human?” Colt’s head filled with red haze as he released his dark side. “I’ll show you what a true fucking monster can do.”
He wasn’t sure how long he knelt there driving his fists into Eric, but hands gripped him and pulled him back. “He’s dead, Colt. Enough!”
Colt’s chest heaved as he stared down at the bloody mess. He drove his clawed hand into Eric’s chest and ripped out his heart. “I hope you rot in hell, you son of a bitch.”
He spat at Eric’s lifeless body before he stormed out, grabbing the bag from the porch where he’d left it, making sure to keep his blood-soaked hand away from the plastic.
Then Colt went to the side of the house and found a spigot. After turning it on, he washed as much of the blood away as possible. Drying his hands on his shirt, he called Cannon and told the deputy what just happened and gave him the address.
When Colt hung up, he grabbed the bag again and hopped into his truck. He tore from the driveway, leaving behind a large cloud of dust.
“You need to shift and run,” Kellen said from beside him. “You can’t go back to your mate like this. Milo doesn’t need to see this side of you.”
Colt’s wolf still wanted to fight, still not satisfied after he’d killed the jaguar. He blew out a few breaths and nodded. “When we get home, I’ll go for a run in the forest behind the house.”
He wasn’t sure if a run would help with the way he felt, but Kellen was right. Colt didn’t want Milo to see the monster that had broken free.
* * * *
“Wait, wait, wait.” Milo held up his hands, palms out. “You’re telling me vampires are real and one tried to kill you?”
