Page 95 of Brandon’s Mate

What she was going to do after that was anybody’s guess. She’d gotten rid of Caleb, but her bar was in ruins.

But that was tomorrow’s problem.

Jason, who’d taken the opportunity to shower while Kitty and Colt were tending to Callie, came in and flung himself on Remy’s bed. “Hey, crow,” Remy yelled from the other room. “Who said you could have my bed?”

“The alpha.”

“I did not,” Brandon called out. “I said you couldn’t have my bed.”

“I’m a refugee,” Jason said, not moving. “Refugees get first dibs. And I’ll keep an eye on Callie. I don’t suppose there’s any food?”

“Is there?” Remy asked. “Kitty?”

Kitty replied, “My Martha Stewart veejay says no. You and Colt ate it all earlier, and nobody’s been shopping.”

The twins looked at each other. “All night truckstop by the highway?”

“Yesss.” They bumped fists and headed for the truck.

“You could at least wipe the blood off!” Brandon called after them.

“It’s a truck stop,” Colt said over his shoulder.

“They have showers,” added Remy.

“Shit,” Brandon muttered. “People are going to think they’re axe murderers.”

“At least they put pants on,” Kitty said. “That’s something. I just hope nobody realizes the truck is stolen.”

Brandon yelled out the window, “If you get yourselves arrested I’m not bailing you out. And bring back some more sleeping bags!”

“And snack cakes!” Kitty yelled.

It was almost dawn before Brandon managed to get a shower. Kitty had already taken hers, and when he came out of the bathroom she was stretched out on the bed, wearing her ninja unicorn pajamas.

He sat down next to her, lifted the hem of her top and kissed her belly. “Do these pajamas mean you’re not feeling sexy?”

She looked down at herself. “Are you saying I don’t look sexy?”

“You always look sexy.”

“Good answer.”

He leaned in for a real kiss. He’d come so close to losing her tonight. So close to losing everything. And he’d gained everything instead.

A crew.

And a couple of extras, but he’d deal with that in the morning. Right now he wanted to be with his mate. He needed to be with her.

He ran his hand up under her pajama top. “I’m thinking we should lose the unicorns,” he said. “And I should finish the process of your ruination.”

“Okay. But first I want to give you this.” She held out an old, creased envelope. He turned it over and saw Flynn’s handwriting on the outside.

It was the note from the duffel bag.

Brandon sucked in his breath. This had been in his secret compartment with his other papers. “You took this out of my stash?”

“Yup. And I read it. Not sorry.”