1642734778_punk-57-pdf

personal favor to him if you would allow the family to deal with Misha.”
I can feel Ryen tense next to me, and I wince. Shit. Yeah, I forgot about
not having told her that particular detail, too.
Will goes on, turning his head toward me, and the cop follows his gaze.
“He’s kind of the black sheep—I’m sure you can tell,” he explains to her, as
her eyes skim down my tattooed arms. “We’ll take him back to Thunder
Bay, and he will not return to Falcon’s Well. You have our word. We’ll
escort the little shit home right now.”
I grind my teeth together. Will’s eyes twinkle with laughter.
The cop regards me. “Well, the other young man is claiming he stole a
watch,” she explains, “however, he doesn’t have it on him, and we have no
witnesses. We were going to let him go anyway, but he won’t tell us where
he lives or his parents’ names.”
Will nods, straightening back up. “Trust us. We’ll take him home.”
She looks around at the three of them, seeing their perfect black suits,
clean fingers, and not a tattoo in sight, so of course they’re upstanding
gentlemen. “Alright,” she finally concedes. “Take him home, and keep him
out of trouble.”
They shake her hand and walk away from the counter, looking smug as
they head over to me.
I shoot out of the chair and stand in front of Will, staring him eye to eye
and trying to keep my voice low. “I’m the black sheep?” I challenge. “I’m
the black sheep? Did I just spend two and a half years in prison? How could
she not know who you were? Why don’t you roll up your sleeves and show
her your tattoos?”
Will adjusts his collar and cuffs, primping himself. “I told you, never let
anyone see all your cards. Didn’t I say that? I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
They have no idea what I’m capable of until it’s too late.”