Keeping Secret (Secret McQueen) - By Sierra Dean Page 0,63

he believed in a Christian God, so he knew he’d be getting his in the end. There was a level in Hell for liars and murderers. I hoped it involved lots of flaying.

Holden was leaning against the driver’s side, his hands on the roof and his chin resting on top of them. Eugenia watched with open-mouthed horror. She was probably reconsidering her decision to come with me, now.

“Hell hath no fury like a Secret screwed over,” Holden muttered.

I put the gas back in the trunk. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. I never want to see a goddamn swamp again for as long as I live.”

One of my greatest skills has to be my ability to make one hell of an entrance.

The whole pack—minus two kings—was at The Den when we returned. You could have heard a pin drop when I walked through the door, mud-caked and bloody.

Hank was the first person to speak, and I was ever so happy he was.

“Looks like someone’s been out in the woods rolling around with some nig—”

I punched him so hard he crumpled like a house of playing cards.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the first moment you opened your mouth, you stupid son of a bitch.” I stepped over him and up to the bar. Jackson, who’d been across the room, was suddenly at my side and looked ready to take on the world if anyone tried to avenge Hank. No one made a move until the pack’s sole African-American member came up to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, beaming.

“Thank you.”

Giving him a tight smile, I said, “You can thank me by bringing Their Majesties here.”

He nodded, clapping me on the shoulder another few times before he went to get Callum and Lucas. I accepted the scotch offered to me by tonight’s acting bartender and told Jackson he could stand down. It didn’t escape my notice that Morgan hadn’t moved from her seat once. Not that I would have made any great effort to defend her either, mind you.

Magnolia—showing an impressive display of strength—dragged Hank back to his table and gave him a dirty dishcloth to staunch the bleeding. “Serves you right, stirring up shit,” she told him.

He kept giving me the stink eye, but I wasn’t having it. Hank didn’t scare me.

“Are you planning to hide out on the porch all night?” I hollered to my hidden mystery guest.

Eyes pivoted from me to the door. Amelia was the first to react, with a gasped, “My God.” Ben was the next, staggering to his feet and sending his chair skittering back across the hardwood as he cleared the room in a heartbeat and lifted his sister off the floor in a crushing hug.

“You’re home,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I’m home.” Eugenia buried her face in his neck, her cheeks wet with emotion as she hugged him back. “I’ve missed you so much.”

The room was far from quiet now. Newer pack members asked who the girl was, and others were just excited to have Eugenia home. She and I were the only two out of the loop on our relationship. Before Callum had told me I had siblings, I’d assumed Ben was either Callum’s own son, or my Aunt Savannah’s. Savannah, as it turned out, was out west shacked up with a prince there.

Now a huge chunk of family was back together, and everyone in the room was treating it like a damned reunion. Beer flowed as freely as water, and people were toasting Eugenia’s return when Callum and Lucas walked in a few minutes later.

Callum went to Eugenia and held her at arm’s length, getting a good look at her. His eyes glistened, but no tears fell. Kings don’t cry. They did hug, though, because Callum pulled her in for a hug so fierce it put our brother’s to shame.

Lucas couldn’t care less about Eugenia’s triumphant return to the fold. He cleared the room in a heartbeat and lifted me off the floor and up onto the bar, wrapping his arms around me as he kissed the breath right out of my lungs.

My vision swam. His fingers slid under my shirt, clawlike, trying to pull me closer to him than a human body could go. I returned his fevered kiss, then, begrudgingly, pushed him away. “Baby, we have an audience.”

He released me with a growl, telling me he didn’t give a hoot who could see us.

Callum, with one arm around Eugenia and another around Ben, beamed