Stalked (Predators MC 4)

Zoey pulled her blanket off before looking at Penni. “I’m sure I have before.”

Penni sat down on the bottom of her bed, glancing around the tiny bedroom that only had a twin bed and a secondhand dresser that she bought at a Goodwill store. “No, you haven’t. You’re a private person. Ginny and you both have a lot in common where that’s concerned. You both let people get only so close, and then back away or change the subject.”

“Penni….”

“Don’t worry; I’m not going to pry. Your private life is your own business. I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk, I’m here. Okay?”

“Okay.” Zoey felt a lump in her throat at the heartfelt offer.

Penni gave her foot a brief pat before rising from the bed. “I placed a bottled water on your nightstand. You need anything else? Can I get you something to eat?”

“No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“I won’t disturb you tonight in case you’re sleeping, but I expect a call in the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll lock the door on the way out… and Zoey, I haven’t forgotten about that note Jackal showed me, but I’ll wait until you feel better before I ask about it.” Penni left with the warning still ringing in her ear.

She should have known Penni wouldn’t have left without mentioning it.

Reaching underneath her pillow, she pulled out the worn rabbit, holding it close to her chest and drawing comfort from the inanimate childhood toy.

“What should I do? Should I tell her?”

Zoey didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one. She mulled over the few options open to her, none of which she could do without shedding light on her past, which she wasn’t willing to do.

Every time she thought of her father, it brought to mind the oxymoron, pretty yet cruel. His good looks hid the wealth of cruelty he held inside. He had been able to hide his behavior when they moved to a new town, portraying a loving, concerned father and successful businessman. The longer they stayed, though, the ground beneath them would begin to crumble. Everyone eventually found out that the emotional manipulations he engineered had a direct effect on their bank balances spiraling out of control.

Stump might not be the most likable man she had ever met, nor would he be considered handsome enough to turn women’s heads—his features were too rough and rugged for that description—but he didn’t make any pretenses either. His personality matched the hard exterior. Also, both times Hannibal had run away, Stump had gone after the dog, which was more than she could say her father would do.

Setting the stuffed rabbit down, she reached for her phone, rescheduling her appointments and returning Patrick’s call that had gone to voicemail. She assured him she was fine and didn’t need help. Before hanging up, she talked to him for several minutes before his mother’s demands in the background had them promising to get together for lunch the next day.

Yawning, she placed the cell phone back on her nightstand. Turning the light off, she carefully scooted down on the bed so she could lay flat without disturbing her knee. Closing her eyes, she gave in to the drowsiness she’d been fighting.

Nightmares plagued her throughout the night, ones of her falling down the steps, making her jerk awake. It was only when she tugged the floppy-eared rabbit into her arms did she slip into a dreamless sleep.

11

“Are you fucking serious?” Max paused to stand in front of the chair.

Stump leaned back in the recliner, lifting his feet into the air. “About what?”

“You had a vest made for that knucklehead?”

“He keeps getting out of the collar I got for him. This way, no one has to take him to the vet to find out who he belongs to—they’ll see who he belongs to.” Stump patted the back of Hannibal’s vest. The dog had let out a low growl when Max called him a knucklehead.

“You’d have to be an idiot to miss that vest. Are those spikes?”

“If a coyote or a bigger dog tries to eat him, they’ll spit him out.”

Max’s face scrunched up before he broke out in laughter. “Bro… as fast as that fucker moves, they couldn’t catch him anyway.”

“Are you making fun of my dog?” Stump pushed his feet downward, lowering his dog.

“You’re begging the brothers to make fun of you with that vest saying: Property of Stump.”

Stump stared around the crowded clubroom, standing up to go chest to chest with the laughing brother.

“I don’t see anyone laughing but you.”

“That’s because they can’t read. I can.”

Using his barreled chest, he shoved Max back for standing too close.

“You want to get an ass whipping over a dog?”

“How would you like it if one of the brothers called one of your kids a knucklehead?”

Max’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “There’s a big difference between a kid and a dog.”