Addie (Pack of Misfits #1) - Raven Kennedy Page 0,65

I’ll find out,” she says, goading us. It works, because I’m already growling.

She barely finishes her sentence before Penn is on her. She lets out a little squeal of surprise, but doesn’t stop him as he pins her against the shelf.

“What do you assholes want?” she asks, lifting her chin to Penn defiantly.

“You,” Penn says as he grips her hips and leans in to run his nose along her neck.

I see her shiver, but she makes an effort to push him back, so Penn drops his hands and steps away, even though I know it’s gotta kill him to do it. Even now, I’m just itching to get closer to her. “Me?” she asks, with a humorless laugh. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s true,” Lafe insists.

“Yeah? How’s Pack Rockhead?” she taunts. “Heard you were spotted going toward Rev’s, the biker bar that all the Rockhead’s hang out in.”

Damn. Word travels fast.

“It’s true. We were there,” Penn admits.

Her jaw grinds and her fists curl up. “Then get out.”

“Addie—”

“No! I want you to leave. Now.”

“Dammit, would you just listen?” I snap.

Her eyes flash to mine, but she’s so stunned by my outburst that she actually does stop talking and listens to me. “You were right. They’re assholes,” I tell her. “We were wrong. I was wrong. Rockhead is nothing but a pack of scumbags doing shady shit, and they attacked you,” I say, my voice nothing more than a growl.

“Now all of a sudden you believe me?” she asks, trying to sound incredulous, but I catch the slight waver of hope in her voice.

“That’s right. And if you would’ve listened earlier, I would’ve explained and apologized, but you just kept shoving shit in my hands to buy.”

She shrugs, completely remorseless. “I get paid commission on sales.”

My lip twitches. Little minx. How the fuck did I ever think that she wasn’t good enough for me? It’s one-hundred-percent the other way around. I only hope that she hasn’t realized that so that I still have a chance.

“Addie,” Penn says, drawing back her attention to him. “We were wrong, and we were disrespectful assholes to you. Herrick most of all,” he says.

I shoot him a glare. “Thanks a lot, fuckhead.”

He just shrugs and continues.

“Listen, Addie, we—” Penn’s words get cut off at the jingle of the bell above the door, and all four of our faces swivel over to an elderly human man holding a parakeet.

Lafe curses under his breath, and all three of us glower at the interruption. Bad fucking timing.

Addie quickly steps away from us and heads toward the front counter. As soon as the man spots her, he squints and starts shuffling forward.

Addie clears her throat to greet him. “How can I help you, sir?” Even though she’s wearing a smile, I can tell she’s nervous with all three of us watching her. Her fingers keep tapping against each other and her eyes dart over to us, like she needs to keep checking that we’re still here.

The old man sidles up to the counter and slams an age-spotted hand onto the glass. “This here bird won’t eat! Pickiest little prick I ever saw,” he tells her, glaring his milky eyes at the green and yellow bird.

“Oh. Okay,” Addie says, looking over the bird. “What have you been feeding him?”

“I have one thing every single day,” he says, holding up a spindly finger. “A tomato and mayo sandwich, yessir. But will Marty here eat it? Oh no. Not a shit bit. Steals my coffee sometimes, though. Found him swimming in my mug one morning, pleased as piss at himself.”

The more he talks, the less Addie focuses on us. “Wait...what?” she asks, shaking her head like she heard him wrong.

“That’s what I’m sayin’!” he explains. “Wastes perfectly good sandwiches!”

She fiddles with the suspender strap on her shoulder and gives the parakeet a commiserating glance. “Okie dokie...we will just...find some new food for you to try out. How does that sound?”

The old man grumbles something but waves her off in acceptance. Addie immediately rounds the counter and starts gathering seed treats and pellets, and then writes a list of fruits and vegetables the bird can have, too. I’m taking a guess that sandwiches and coffee are not on that list.

“All this for a damn bird,” the man gripes on his way out, bag in hand and the parakeet still hanging out on his shoulder.

Addie shakes her head as the door swings shut. “He’s lucky that bird isn’t a shifter. Probably would’ve done more than swim in his coffee.”

Lafe