Page 146 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

The anticipation vanished the second I saw Thomas leaning against a black SUV parked beside Jackson’s truck.

I stopped walking.

For a second, the parking lot seemed to narrow around him. I studied his face in photographs for years, but this was the first time face-to-face in ten years. He looked older. Harder. Silver threaded his dark hair, lines cut deep around his mouth, but the cold authority was exactly the same. The kind of man who made the air feel thinner simply by standing there.

My cat went very still. I didn’t flinch. I didn’t react. I wasn’t thirteen anymore. I was older, taller, trained, and I had already killed three of his. The preparation held.

Ten years, and he didn’t even look at me.

Thomas’s eyes locked on Jackson with pure fury as he pushed off the SUV and stalked closer.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he hissed, voice low. He glanced at passing students, then continued tighter. “You refused Selene and cost this pack the Crescent Peak alliance. Two years of negotiations, gone. And this is why?”

Jackson didn’t move. “I made my choice.”

“Your choice?” Thomas let out a harsh breath. “You threw away the strongest alliance this pack has ever been offered so you could bond yourself to a fucking cat?”

His gaze finally flicked to me. It was dismissive and disgusted, like I was something foul stuck to his son’s shoe.

He didn’t recognize me. Good.

“Problems like this can be handled,” he said, softer now, almost conversational. The words were careful for any human ears, but the meaning was razor sharp. “Quietly and cleanly, before they cause any more damage.”

Jackson went dangerously still, protective rage flaring hot through the bond.

“Did you just threaten my mate?” His voice dropped into that low, alpha register that carried power even when it sounded human.

A few heads turned.

Thomas held his stare, fury and calculation warring on his face. Then he forced a thin, cold smile.

“We’ll discuss this at home, son.” The command sat clear underneath. “Be there tonight. No excuses.”

Jackson didn’t answer. Thomas held his stare for another long second, then stepped in close enough that only they could hear him.

“Don’t make me come find you.” His eyes flicked to me one last time, cold and assessing, before he climbed into the SUV and drove off without looking back.

Jackson watched him go, body rigid beside mine. His hand closed around mine, grip almost too tight, and he pulled me against his side. Rage still rolled through the bond.

“Come on.”

We crossed the lot together, aware of the lingering eyes. The second the truck doors closed, he let out a sharp breath and stared straight ahead.

“I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are.”

His head snapped toward me. “Harper—”

“Listen to me.” The anger pouring through the bond was almost painful. “If you disappear he’ll start digging. If you refuse outright he’ll know something’s wrong.”

“He already knows something’s wrong.”

“Not this.” I held his gaze. “We’re not ready yet.”

The words tasted bitter. Ten years, and I still wasn’t ready.

“He wants a conversation,” I said. “Give him one. Buy us time.”