Stalked (Predators MC 4)

Grace didn’t let him escape so easily.

“Stump, if Hannibal gets away from you again, that dog will be back in my house for good.”

“You can’t take my dog—”

“If you can’t take care of him the way I want, I will find someone who can, and I won’t have to search long and hard to find that person.” The chill in her words showed just how serious she was.

“I’ll… I’ll….”

“You’ll do what, Stump?” Ice replied coldly, straightening from leaning over Grace’s desk and turning toward him.

Stump wasn’t stupid.

“Nothing. I have taken good care of my dog. He slipped away from me once. It won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.”

He made his escape quickly before he ended up in a fight with Ice for telling his old lady exactly what he thought of her threats.

It took him getting off the elevator before he realized he had his bike. Frustrated at trying to figure out how to get to the club with Hannibal, he was tempted to take the dog back inside and give him to Grace. At least he was before he glanced down and saw Hannibal wag his tail at him.

“Now you’re happy to see me? You couldn’t have shown some enthusiasm when I was having my ass chewed off by those crazy women?”

Hannibal’s tail wagged harder as he brought his paws to Stump’s leg as if he wanted to play.

“He’s happy to be back with his daddy.”

Stump turned at the feminine voice that was coming from behind him. “Huh?”

His puzzlement had Zoey’s musical laughter filling the foyer.

“I meant you,” she explained. “You look like you have a problem.”

“Not a problem I can’t deal with. I need to call one of the brothers to bring me a car.”

“I can see your predicament. I don’t see Hannibal as a back warmer, and he’s definitely too heavy to carry under your arm.”

His brow rose at the term she used. “You know what a back warmer is?”

“Yes, one of my clients used to belong to a motorcycle club.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know. He never told me, and I didn’t ask.”

“You should have asked. Some clubs can have some mean bastards.”

“He wasn’t. He was very sweet.”

“Then he didn’t belong to one I would know,” he said contemptuously.

Stump watched as she raised a delicate hand to sweep her hair behind her ear. Every move Zoey made was dainty and graceful, which was a contrast to her size. She wasn’t large, but she wasn’t small either. Most women her size would shy away from wearing such brightly colored or patterned clothes.

People would call her chunky, but he would call her sexy as fuck. He hated fucking women who were so thin their hipbones poked you when they fucked you back. Zoey was soft enough he would sink down on her—

He cut off his raging hormones by reminding himself of the trouble she stirred between him and Grace. Plus, he had no intention of getting involved with a fruitcake, even if it were only for a few months that he usually took up with a woman. The only other brother who went through women as fast as he did was Max, and that brother was tied down with so many kids he was never going to be able to come up for air. He had held onto the hope that Jackal would get fed up with Penni with the hell she was constantly giving him, but the brother let him down by marrying her, using the excuse that he’d done it because he didn’t want to be target practice for her brother Shade.

“My client texted me that she needed to reschedule. I could follow you with Hannibal,” she offered.

Stump felt like shit that he had been rude to her.

Grace was right; he had been trying to offset Grace’s anger at Ice and himself for trying to sneak one by her.

“I have someone I can call. There’s no need to put yourself out.”

“I don’t mind. I’ll enjoy the ride and spending the extra time with Hannibal. I must confess I have an ulterior motive. If you ever need me to dog-sit, it will be easier to drive there if I know the way. I tend to get lost when I drive through the city.”

“It’s a ten-minute drive.”

“I don’t have another appointment until twelve.”

The woman wanted to be helpful; why should he complain? It made life easier for him, and he was all about making life easier for himself.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged, handing her the leash. “But don’t get high hopes about the dog-sitting.” Hannibal was his little shadow, and he liked things just the way they were.

“The offer is there if you ever need it. I’m just putting the suggestion out there in case you ever do.”

The woman wasn’t getting his message. Hannibal was his, and he wasn’t sharing.

“Where’s your car?” he asked shortly, done trying to get his point across.