Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 107670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“What did she say?” Harley didn’t realize she was edging closer to the reporter until Jesse’s arm shot out, acting as a protective barrier.
“That you came here for sanctuary because extremists rigged your car with a bomb and some of your relatives are now hunting them.”
“Motherfucker,” Jesse bit out.
Gabrielle continued speaking to Harley. “She also said that, from the little you’ve spoken of Clive to the pack, you don’t appear to have any regard for him or to know if he heads The Movement. I must admit, I found that rather disappointing. She also stated that you’ll soon own the club you were performing at. I don’t know her name; she didn’t say.”
“Kim,” guessed Bracken, expression glum.
“It might not be her,” Shaya told the enforcer but didn’t appear convinced.
“She sounded young,” said Gabrielle. “And very bitter.”
Bracken nodded. “Kim.”
Harley felt bad for him. His sister had fed his pack’s business to a reporter, betraying all of them—including him. When he turned to Harley, his face apologetic, she clipped, “Don’t you dare apologize. You are not to blame for anything another person does or doesn’t do.”
“If it was made public that you’ll soon own that club, the extremists would probably wreck it out of spite,” he pointed out.
“I know,” she said. “But you are not to blame, so you have no need to apologize.”
Eli patted Bracken’s back. “She’s right.”
“Why come to us with this?” Nick asked Gabrielle, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Gabrielle tugged at her blouse. “I said I wouldn’t write anymore articles about Harley. I won’t. But I thought you might be interested to know that someone close to you has betrayed you, especially since she’ll probably go to another reporter if I don’t write an article.” She swallowed. “I didn’t have to come to you with news.”
“So you want something in return,” Jesse guessed.
“Only what I’ve always wanted: an exclusive from Harley.” Gabrielle turned to her. “Even if you don’t know whether or not your father is connected to The Movement, you can still tell me about him.”
Jesse growled. “You’re not getting a story from Harley.”
“But we can give you another story,” Nick said. “A story I think you’ll find just as interesting; one I’m sure hasn’t been told before.”
A smile on her lips, Gabrielle turned to the Alpha. “I’m listening.”
That was when, shocking the shit out of Harley, Nick told Gabrielle all about Hector; the guy’s love of acquiring shifter territories, his habit of blackmailing shifters who refuse to sell, that he’d killed a lone kestrel shifter, and that terrible accusations had once been made against him.
“I ask that you don’t mention our pack in your article,” said Nick. “You can easily check how many of his properties are situated on land that once belonged to shifters. Talk about ‘sources,’ but don’t mention my name.”
“You don’t want the attention,” guessed Gabrielle. “Fair enough.”
Shaya lifted a single brow. “You’re agreeing that easily?”
“As a shifter, I can sympathize,” said Gabrielle. “As a woman, I feel for Jenny. I will write this article if for no other reason than Hector Flynt should be exposed for the bastard he is.”
As Zander escorted Gabrielle back to her car, Eli stuffed his hands in his pockets. “You sure that was the right idea, Nick?”
The Alpha sighed. “No, but I don’t see what else we can really do but damage control. When we refuse to leave, he’s going to release the testimonies. Gabrielle’s article will clearly state that he gathers ‘false material,’ which means we’ve discredited him before he even releases our story.”
“This won’t really hit him where it hurts, though,” said Harley. “He’s not going to care much about the article, although I do think it was better to get out our story before he releases the testimonies. Hector’s weak spot is his success. We can’t destroy his career, but we can destroy symbols of his success.”
Jesse’s lips pursed. “I heard the guy has a lot of homes.”
Eli nodded. “It would be a shame if they started exploding, one by one. The properties are no doubt filled with antique furnishings, expensive rugs, genuine art, and safes—maybe even blackmail materials. Hector would lose his shit if they were all destroyed. Then he’d know what it felt like to have someone threaten his home.”
“You have the contacts to make that happen, Nick,” said Derren. “I think they’d happily do it once they hear what the bastard’s done.”
Nick was quiet for a moment. “I admit, I like the idea. But he might take it as a declaration of war.”
“Like Eli said, we can’t really avoid one unless we give up our territory,” Derren pointed out. “I don’t want war any more than you do, but I don’t want to be anybody’s prey either. That’s what he’s made us.”
Nick inhaled deeply as a hard fierceness gathered behind his eyes. “Then let’s change that.”