Bad Girl (Alphahole Roommates 3)

I point at her. “I’m up to speed on your situation, and I’m not pleased you kept this from me. What the fuck were you thinkin’? Thaddeus Steele is a fuckin’ monster and he’s not gettin’ his hands on you.”

Ally’s mouth drops open. “How… you… what did you do?”

I’m seething.

“We’re going to my place where there’s a security system and cameras more sophisticated than a fifty-dollar stuffed bear to keep an eye on everything, to keep you safe, and it’s where I keep my fucking guns in case this shit blows up. You’re coming with me and we’re meeting a cop buddy of mine who’s comin’ to my place to get your statement.”

“Jude…”

“I am not fucking around with this shit, Alyssa. Get movin’.”

She bites her lip.

“Now, baby,” I warn, “or I throw you over my shoulder, take you to my place and you have nothing for clothes but what’s on your back, which is fine by me. Or pack. You have ten minutes. I’ll deal with the cat stuff.”

She inhales big, then blows out angry words. “Listen, I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking to, but…”

“Pack!” I yell.

She rears back.

“So help me, woman.”

“Do you know something I don’t?” she asks, clutching her throat. “Have they found me? Has he-”

“I know a fuckuva lot that you either don’t know or are stupidly ignoring, like how dangerous Steele is. That fucker’s calling card is that when his victims are found, they usually look like they’ve been put through a woodchipper. Move your ass, now, baby, or we’re leaving without your shit.”

“You’re scaring me.”

“You should be scared. The chick you worked with to get your fake identification and jobs got wind of who you’re hiding from and now she’s goin’ into hiding too.”

“What?”

“Talk more at my place.” I head out to the kitchen to pack up the cat food and the cat’s dishes as well as to grab a trash bag for the litter box.

“You need to tell me what you know and how you know, Jude.”

Ally is right behind me. “And you think I don’t know that this situation is scary as fuck? You maybe think that’s why I’m trying to keep everyone out of it?”

I scoop the cat off the couch and put her into the carrier.

“Get a move on,” I order.

33

Ally

My hands are shaking the entire time I’m throwing together a bag. In less than ten minutes, I have a suitcase and backpack with some clothes, shoes, and bathroom essentials.

I mentally attempt to consider if I’ve got enough of each type of clothing I might need for a couple days or not, but my brain is mush. Whatever I’ve got is gonna have to be good enough for now.

I set my bags down by Georgie’s stuff beside the door and see Jude’s back. He’s standing at the window by the TV, talking on the phone.

“Yeah man. Leaving now. Okay, see you there.”

Georgie lets out a sad little meow from her carrier that sounds like a question. The poor baby wants to know if she has to go on another car ride.

“I’m sorry, Georgie-girl,” I whisper, squatting and sticking my fingertips through the bars to scratch her head.

What in the world does Jude know? He’s ticked. Furious.

And how does he know all this?

And how does Tori know who I’m hiding from when she made it crystal clear she didn’t ever want to know? And beyond that, how does Jude know about Tori? I’m terrified, suddenly, because if she knows who I’m hiding from, does that mean Thad and Jonah are close to catching up with me?

“Let’s go,” Jude demands, heading toward me. His body language has me ready to crab-crawl away. He looks dangerously angry. He lifts the cat carrier and the bags into one hand and slings his duffle bag over his shoulder before opening the door and gesturing into the hall, face like stone.

Well, I guess I finally got my wish – Jude’s moving out of my apartment. But unfortunately for me, he’s taking me with him.

I lock both locks and carrying what’s left of the bags, head down the hall.

When I get to the elevators, he’s waiting in one with the door open. Inside are a couple, Mr. and Mrs. French who I’ve chatted with a lot in the past few months. They stand there looking like they’re afraid of Jude. No wonder. The energy rolling off him is tense.

I try to smile but they still look freaked.

The elevator takes us to the underground and once I’m inside his SUV I say, “So, I think it’s time to start talking.”

He puts the cat carrier on my lap, shuts the passenger door and rounds the hood.

“Meow?”

“Sorry kitty girl. It’s not my fault. Or… it is, but I’m sorry.”

“Well?” I ask as he shuts his door.

“The time for you to start talking was months ago.”