Chapter Forty Five - Wulf

                                    

                                          
"Any word on Northcutt?" I ask my crew.
                          
 Brick lights up a blunt that he shares with Rod. Willy shrugs. "Hard to say," he says. "Haven't seen him."
                          
    "He's either dead or hiding," Bone offers up.
                          
    "Mmm," I nod, thinking it over.
                          
    "You gonna tell us about the trip?" Brick asks, coughing out a cloud of smoke. "You've been back for like two weeks and haven't said anything."
                          
    "Time of my life," I flick my brows and lean back in my chair.
                          
    "Yeah, I fucking bet it was," Bone gives a knowing laugh. "Your old lady's been prancing around her like a little ballerina lately."
                          
    It's weird to hear Silvie referred to by that term. She fits the criteria- she's mine, she's been claimed, she's with me every night. But she feels like so much more than that.
                          
    "Speak of the devil," a very high Rod says when she knocks on the door.
                          
    The guys shuffle out, we were done anyway. I jerk my head, nodding for her to come in. Today, she's got on low cut jeans and a loose shirt that hides her curves. What a waste.
                          
    "I have a favor to ask," she says, biting her lip.
                          
    Raising my brows, I give her a look that says, spit it out.
                          
    "I want to buy tickets to a football game," she says. "I've already been looking online for the upcoming season." I know Silvie. She's researched her whole idea. As if she's laying out a business plan and I'm the investor, she tells me everything.
                          
    She wants to get nosebleed seats, they're the cheapest, for opening day. "I want to take Dakon. And I'd like you to come if you want."
                          
    This is going to be fun. "We aren't taking him," I say, turning my attention to my computer. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her face fall.
                          
    "We aren't taking him to go sit in the nosebleeds, Silvie. If we're going, we're doing it right. Get lower level. Would he like to be near the end zone or the fifty yard line?"
                          
    She laughs. "You dick," she says, stepping between my legs.
                          
    "What's life without a little fun, baby?" I ask, planting a kiss on her.