The Pack (The Pack 1)

“Is your dad okay?” Dominic’s question threw me and it took a second for me to nod. I hadn’t expected him to ask about my dad.

“He wasn’t with me when I ran into her,” I admitted and he arched his eyebrow in question. I heaved out a breath, knowing he wouldn’t let it go. “I was getting feminine products,” I answered him, begging my face not to give me away with a blush. He didn’t seem to care at all, nodding as his gaze became unfocused.

“Was she okay?”

I nodded, unable to speak as I witnessed the emotion on his face as he asked about her. He nodded again and wiped his face of all emotion as Caleb came closer. “Don’t mention this.”

I’d barely nodded when he lifted me by the waist and set me inside the Jeep, his thumb rubbing against the exposed skin where my shirt had drifted up.

“Also, don’t go anywhere without one of us.” His warning was barely audible but I heard. A minute later, Anna was sliding into the seat next to me, her smile telling me she was on cloud nine from her short conversation with Caleb. My own pulse was pounding and I knew it was from more than my conversation with Dominic, as the skin that his hand had brushed continued to tingle.

Hours later, I struggled to concentrate on the English essay of two thousand words that was due tomorrow. I’d planned to start it over the weekend but that had been a failure and after the run in with Dominic’s sister, and I was pretty sure it was his sister, I hadn’t written a word the night before. After several more minutes staring that the screen blankly, I slammed the laptop screen down.

“Whoa, what did it ever do to you, Bunny? You act like it stole the last cookie, which I didn’t by the way, in case you were looking and that’s why you’re angry. I totally didn’t take it,” Dad said as he rambled into the apartment right during my fit of frustration.

“So, to be clear, you didn’t eat the last cookie? Of the cookies we just bought yesterday?” I verified, fighting back a smile. It never failed that Dad could make me smile, no matter how pissed off I was.

“Right,” he confirmed with a head bop. “And these are in no way replacement cookies so you won’t know I ate the whole box of original cookies.” He waved the box he’d had hidden behind his back at me like a white flag. “These are back up cookies in case we run out during an outbreak of famine or you know, emergencies like now when the laptop cusses you out.” He nodded to my closed laptop and the grin I’d been fighting came out. His smile widened and he offered me the box of cookies. “You look like you need these.” I accepted the peace offering with a nod.

“Maybe,” I admitted, grabbing a fistful of cookies and simultaneously stuffing one in my mouth. Dad raised his eyebrows slightly but kept his mouth shut. “You shouldn’t expect to get any,” I told him around a mouthful of crumbs and he nodded.

“Noted.” He glanced at the stove and back to me. “Should I bother to cook dinner or just win the award for worst father and let you eat cookies for supper?”

“Some might say worst father, I say best father,” I answered and he nodded as he went to the fridge. He proceeded to pour a glass of milk and hand it to me. When I gave him a questioning stare, he shrugged, “At least I can say, I filled one of the food groups.”

“Chocolate isn’t a food group?” I questioned, biting another cookie.

“I’m seriously concerned about your education now,” he said in response and I snorted into my milk, making bubbles.

“Drink it, don’t inhale it,” he reminded me gently, before adding sotto voice, “Maybe she’s not ready for college.”

“Dad!”

“Bunny!” He rejoined, matching my tone exactly. I was about to respond when the sound of snarling interrupted us. I jumped up and raced to the door, but Dad slammed his hand against it before I could yank it open.

“Nope, too dangerous,” he grunted and for a second I thought he was talking about it was too dangerous for me outside because of the Hanleys, then I realized he was talking about the actual fighting outside our door. Once he determined I wasn’t going to open the door, he moved to the window and I followed him. The lights in the parking lot lit the area, but we didn’t see anything. Another yip and then a howl had us moving to the windows facing the back of the motel. A blur of black and white was all I could make out as we peered out the window. A few more snarls and deep-throated growls pierced the air before fading off.