“Don’t bark at me.”

“He probably walked away for two reasons.” Annie Jo cut in. “One, because he didn’t have condoms. Bubba Smith beat into every one of his sons the condom, condom, condom rule. He made sure they had condoms in their trucks, in their school bags, stuck in books. Any place he could think of, and Lord love ya, but you better use ’em. Bubba didn’t want a bunch of grandkids running around since he knew his sons would breed a ton once they were mated. Unfortunately, the Wilsons just didn’t have that same philosophy. “

“And what, pray tell, is the second reason?”

Annie Jo smiled. “The second reason is, you were special, Jessie Ann. Everybody in town knew that. Why you think the She-pups kept coming after you? But none of that is here or there. Y’all can work that out yourselves because one of my students will be here in about five more minutes.”

Smitty nodded. “Where is he, Annie Jo?”

“The Bronx.” She stood and opened one of the kitchen drawers, extracting a pad. She tore off the top sheet. “Here. Take it. I don’t want that boy back here. But let me tell you something, Jessie Ann. The best thing Walt Junior probably ever did was throw that little Maylin away. Wilson’s mate, she can’t be more than late twenties, early thirties. But damn if she don’t look closer to mid-forties. They ride their females hard and put ’em up wet, with very little payoff.”

“She’s married now,” Jess said with true pride. “And her husband loves her and their daughter.”

“There you go. That’s all that matters.”

The doorbell rang and Annie Jo stood. “All right, y’all. Time to go.”

She couldn’t hustle them to the door fast enough. But when Jess saw Annie Jo’s “student” she could see why.

Jess didn’t know a lot of virile-looking twenty-five-year-old males who went for piano lessons in the middle of a suburb.

“Curtis, why don’t you go on in the living room and wait for me there. I’ll be right in.”

Devouring the woman with his eyes, he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

Annie Jo walked them out to Smitty’s truck. “Now, if y’all need anything else from me, you just let me know. And of course, y’all can stop by anytime.”

She kissed and hugged Smitty, then kissed and hugged Jess. But before they could get in the truck and drive away, she added, “And you be careful, Bobby Ray. That boy is a lot like his daddy, and you can say what you want about Bubba Smith, he fights fair. I can’t say that for the Wilsons. But don’t you forget they’re family.” She pointed at Jess. “And she ain’t.”

“Thanks, Annie Jo.”

“You’re very welcome. Y’all get on now. Good luck.”

Chapter 27

After parking a couple blocks away from the rundown hotelWilson and his Pack stayed in, Smitty asked, “Should I bother telling you to stay out here until I’m done?”

Jessie shrugged, dug into her backpack, and pulled out a book, settling back into her seat. “Sure. I’ll wait.”

He grinned. “Now most females of my Pack would be itching to go up there with me.”

“Because they look for a fight. I don’t. I’m more than happy to keep my wild-dog butt right down here until you’re done. Unless we’re talking about a sword fight. Or a fight to the death in the Roman Coliseum.”

“And you just lost me.”

“Like that’s new.”

Smitty gripped her chin, lifting her face so he could kiss her.

“Smitty—”

He didn’t let her finish, kissing her hard, demanding her tongue come out to play. When he finally pulled back they were both panting and Jessie had her eyes closed.

“When we get this done, you and I are going to talk.”

He stepped out of the truck and he heard her mutter, “Great. More talking.”

“What?”

She opened her book. “I said good luck.”

Walt Davis Wilson, Jr., was tired of the bullshit. Tired of the wait. Playing caring daddy to that cheery little snot-nose brat did nothing but wear on his nerves. He already had seven kids—pure wolves, not freaky tiny half-breeds—and he didn’t need an eighth.

But he’d run out of patience and time. He had bears watching his house back home, wanting their goddamn money, and he needed to get it to them sooner rather than later. So he’d pushed it with that wild dog. He had no choice. Especially when the kid stopped returning his phone calls. Usually she responded to his messages right away, meeting him all over the city for dinners mostly. But she’d missed their last dinner date and he hadn’t heard from her since. Bad sign. So he’d put his call in to that Alpha Female, letting her experience a little fear. He hoped she’d pay him off outright. But if she didn’t, he’d take the kid back to Alabama. They’d never follow him into Smithburg. They couldn’t be that stupid. The Smiths protected their own, that was a fact, and the Wilsons were connected to them by blood. In the end, they’d be better off paying him what he wanted so they could get the little brat back.

That money would change everything for him.

Once he paid off his debt and used whatever money was left—he had every intention of asking for way more money than he actually needed to pay off the bears—to start a business, he’d have wolves from all over Alabama itching to join his Pack. He planned to make the Wilson Pack as big as them snobby Van Holtzs or trash-talkin’ Magnus bastards. And he’d definitely make his Pack more important than any Smith. He’d show ’em all. Show ’em all just how powerful he was.