Her Alphas [Wolf Packs of Fate: Garrett Pack 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Wolf Packs of Fate: Garrett Pack 1

  Her Alphas

  Laney Sugarfield will do anything for her brother, including running off with his gang’s drugs. But now that she’s gotten away with the illegal goods, what’s she supposed to do with them?

  Werewolves Brady, Dart, and Ethan Rann are members of the Garrett Pack of Fate. Not that they’re proud of that. In fact, once they achieve primary alpha ranking, they’re going to change things within the pack. They’re ready to make their move when suddenly the desirable Laney shows up in Fate.

  Can they take their mate even if that means she becomes part of a pack they no longer want?

  Laney’s beautiful and everything they want, but she comes with baggage. Can they help her brother while keeping her safe? Will their pack keep them from claiming her? They’re caught in the middle. Will it be love or the pack?

  Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves

  Length: 38,628 words

  HER ALPHAS

  Wolf Packs of Fate: Garrett Pack 1

  Jane Jamison

  MENAGE EVERLASTING

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting

  HER ALPHAS

  Copyright © 2016 by Jane Jamison

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-68295-517-8

  First E-book Publication: October 2016

  Cover design by Les Byerley

  All art and logo copyright © 2016 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter to Readers

  Dear Readers,

  If you have purchased this copy of Her Alphas by Jane Jamison from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

  The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

  This is Jane Jamison’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Jane Jamison’s right to earn a living from her work.

  Amanda Hilton, Publisher

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  www.BookStrand.com

  DEDICATION

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome back to Fate. Thank you for once again purchasing my book. I couldn’t write without your continued support.

  Yours,

  Jane Jamison

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  HER ALPHAS

  Wolf Packs of Fate: Garrett Pack 1

  JANE JAMISON

  Copyright © 2016

  Chapter One

  “Damn it, Harlen, don’t lie to me. I know exactly what you and those assholes have been doing.”

  Laney Sugarfield had promised herself that she wouldn’t lose her temper. Although her brother was only three years younger than her twenty-six years, sometimes he acted as though they were light-years apart. She often thought she should kick him to the curb, but every time she got close to doing exactly that, he’d give her a pitiful hangdog look with his sorrowful light green eyes, which were so much like her own, and she’d feel guilty all over again. Not that she had any reason to feel guilty. After all, she’d taken him in after their parents had done what she couldn’t. But she didn’t blame them, either. They’d already sent him to several rehabs, taking him back into their Nashville mansion once he was pronounced “clean,” but he always ended up where he’d started. Hanging with a gang that dealt in the very drugs that had him hooked like a red snapper on the end of a fishing pole. She’d hoped letting him stay with her in her small Atlanta apartment would give him a fresh start, but it hadn’t. He’d merely exchanged one gang for another.

  “Sis, it’s not what you think. They’re just a bunch of guys.” Harlen stretched his long, lean body over the length of her short loveseat, his attention never once leaving the television.

  She snatched up the remote and clicked off the talk show giving some loser a paternity test. As though the kid would be any better knowing that said loser was his father. “Get your lazy ass off the couch and listen to me. I’ve had it. Either you straighten up or you get the hell out of my home.”

  “Home?” Harlen snorted and glanced around derisively. “You call this a home?”

  Her place was a small one-bedroom apartment, but in Atlanta, that meant a fair share of her salary as a marketing assistant went to pay for her run-down apartment. “Well, forgive me. If it doesn’t meet your standards, feel free to find a job and get your own place.”

  He shut up as he always did. Still, he’d almost gotten her off the real topic. “Those so-called friends of yours are dealing drugs. Don’t try and tell me anything different.” She let him in on her secret. “I’ve been tailing you for the past few days.”

  That got his attention. “You’ve been following me?”

  “I sure have.” She drew in a hard breath. Getting angry wouldn’t help. “I saw you on the corner. I saw you taking money and handing over the drugs. There’s no denying it, Harlen. Don’t even try.”

  He shrugged as though she’d accused him of leaving an empty milk carton in the fridge again. “At least I’m pulling in some cash.”

  Yeah. Although I’ve never seen any of it. Shit. As if I want dirty money.

  “You have to stop. I don’t want to see you get into
trouble. Either with the law or using again.” Asking was so damn hard even when she already knew the answer. “You’re using again, aren’t you?”

  He grew sullen, which was as good as a yes. Suddenly, he bolted off the loveseat. “Get the fuck off my back, sis. I got enough of that shit from Mom and Dad.”

  She followed him, the four inch difference in their heights making it difficult to catch up with him. “Where are they? Where’d you hide the drugs?” He had to have stashed the drugs in her apartment. Not having a car of his own left him with very few options for hiding places.

  “Fuck off, Laney!” He yanked open the door and barreled into the hallway, almost taking Mr. Hiromah along with him. The elderly Chinese man managed to sidestep her careless brother just in time.

  What else could she do but stand in her doorway and watch as her brother headed for the stairway? Beg him to come back? Tackle him? “I’m sorry, Mr. H. I don’t know what got into him.” It was a boldface lie that the old man saw through, but it was a game they played. Most of the residents of the small building were in on Harlen’s “activities.”

  “Don’t worry about it, dear.” His kind eyes, wrinkles making them seem even nicer, made her feel slightly better until he swept his gaze to where Harlen had just disappeared around the corner. “You’re doing the best you can.”

  Tears burned in her eyes. “I am, but it’s not enough.”

  “Sometimes it’s not, no matter how much you do.” He opened his door then turned back to her. “Sometimes those we love have to find themselves without our help.”

  Suddenly, she needed to lean on someone for a little support. “But what if he doesn’t? What if…?” Her throat closed, making it impossible for her to voice her real fears. What if Harlen overdosed? What if she hadn’t done enough to keep him from hitting rock bottom?

  “What will be, will be. You can’t force fate to do anything else.”

  So much for the support. Yet she gave him a faltering smile, knowing he was trying to help. “I know. Thanks.”

  He reached out, his hand sliding gently along her arm. “Take care of yourself, Laney. If you don’t, you won’t be able to be there for him when he really needs you.”

  “I understand.” She smiled again then stepped back into her apartment. Leaning against the door, she thought about Mr. H’s words. Yet it wasn’t in her nature to simply sit back, wait, and hope. Instead, she wiped away a tear and gave her tiny apartment a look through new eyes.

  Where would he hide them?

  After following him a few times, she’d realized that Harlen didn’t go to the gang every day for a new supply of drugs. Meaning that, for now, he had to have enough drugs on him to sell. Which meant, as she’d already assumed, that he had to be hiding the drugs in her apartment. He’d been carrying a small duffel bag yesterday. Had it been filled with drugs?

  Do headlights mesmerize a deer? Duh.

  She had to find them, but what then? Should she turn them over to the police? Yet, if she did, she’d have to tell them where she’d gotten them, thus implicating her brother. She wasn’t sure whether to hope he’d hidden the drugs, therefore giving her a chance to find them, or to hope that she wouldn’t find any.

  Her gaze skimmed over the room, going slowly, peering at every possible place he could’ve hidden the bag. Under the loveseat? No. She’d vacuumed under there just this morning. Behind the chest? Again, no. There weren’t many places to hide things in her small home. So where were they? Frustrated, she plopped down on the loveseat and slumped into the cushions. Then promptly sat up.

  The vent.

  The vent wasn’t large, but it was big enough to cram a small duffel bag into the shaft. Grabbing a nearby chair, she headed for the first vent. It took a little maneuvering to get it off, but once it came loose, she pulled her phone out of her back pocket, turned on the flashlight option, and sent the beam down the shaft.

  Nothing.

  But there were more vents to check.

  One by one, she went to each vent. By the time she’d taken the cover off the third vent, she dared to hope that maybe, for once, her brother had told her the truth. She shone the light down the vent and peered inside.

  Her heart dropped to her stomach.

  Shit.

  The small duffel bag was crammed into the vent shaft.

  Why couldn’t I have been wrong?

  Grabbing hold of the strap, she jerked it out so hard that she almost fell off the chair. With her stomach tightening even more, she returned to the loveseat and unzipped the bag.

  She’d expected to find drugs, bags of marijuana as well as cocaine and more. Yet what she found threw her. The bag was filled with baggies of prescription medications.

  A search on the Internet identified some of the drugs as Xanax, Hydrocodone, and Tramadol, but she couldn’t find any information or pill identification images for many of the others. Not that it mattered. They were all illegal.

  Shit, Harlen. Why couldn’t you have stuck with selling pot?

  Letting out an exasperated breath, she sat back. So selling pot would be better? Selling pot was almost as bad, even if it was legalized in many states. To think that way, however, was alarming. Had her thinking been messed up after living with her brother and his illegal activities far too long?

  What do I do now?

  She couldn’t return the bag to the vent, but going to the police was out of the question, too. Even if she believed doing some jail time might do him some good, she couldn’t take the risk. Too many people went into jail and came out even worse than before.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  She’d been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t heard Harlen come back into the apartment.

  “Give it to me.” His lip curved into a snarl.

  “No.” She got to her feet and clutched the bag tightly to her chest.

  “Damn it, sis. Stay out of this.”

  “No. I won’t.”

  He moved closer, his face set with determination, his pupils huge. “What are you going to do? Turn me in?”

  “No.” She clutched the bag tighter. “But I’m not giving them back, either.”

  “Don’t you get it? They’re not mine. If I don’t sell that shit, the gang’s going to come after me.”

  “Then we’ll leave.” The answer had fallen out of her mouth before she’d had time to think. Yet didn’t it make sense? Wasn’t that their only real choice?

  “Leave? And go where? Back to our parents’ house?”

  As if that were possible. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.”

  He moved closer. “Just give them to me and forget you ever saw them.”

  “No.” Inching her way around the couch, she kept her distance. “You’re using again, aren’t you? And selling drugs to pay for your own habit. I’m right. Tell me.”

  His lips parted and he blinked—a habit he always did right before spouting a lie—and her suspicions were confirmed. She backed up again. “Don’t lie to me, Harlen.”

  “Give. Me. The. Bag.”

  “No.”

  He lunged toward her, but she was ready. If he hadn’t been high, he might’ve caught her. Instead, she dashed around him, scooping up her purse, and was out the door. His calls for her to stop changed from demanding to pleading. She bounded down the stairs, sensing he was hot on her heels. She shoved her shoulder against the door leading to the parking lot in the back and broke out into the sunlight. Just as she slid behind the wheel of her 1978 Honda, her brother half tumbled, half ran out of the door.

  “Laney, get back here!”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she threw the bag of pills onto the passenger seat then turned the ignition. The back wheels threw dirt into the air as the car sped out of the parking lot.

  Glancing back once, she let out a low curse as Harlen still ran after her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She maneuvered the car around the next corner, leaving him behind.

  Slowly easing
her foot off the accelerator, she tried catching her breath. “Where the hell do I go now?”

  She couldn’t go to her parents. They’d turn Harlen in and blame her for letting him get back on drugs.

  She couldn’t go to any of her friends. Involving them in an illegal situation wouldn’t be right.

  I have to get away. But where?

  Her gaze checked the traffic on I-85 then jumped to the signage along the roadside. One sign caught her eye.

  FATE Unlimited

  Trust Your Inner Self

  Guided Meditation and Spiritual Guidance

  Your FATE is in your hands.

  Call 1-800-For-Fate

  Fate. Where had she heard about Fate recently? Not as in the usual, whatever-happens-in-the-future-kind of way but as the name of something.

  Hadn’t an acquaintance mentioned something about moving to a small town called Fate? Maddie Connor had left Atlanta a few months earlier. She and Maddie weren’t close friends, but they’d met on more than one occasion at a club at Atlantic Station.

  She struggled, trying to remember where the town had been located. Maddie had told her it was a few miles off the highway headed north. And that most people wouldn’t even notice the small sign noting the turn-off onto a two-lane road that led into town.

  What better place to hide out than in a small town?

  She didn’t have anything but the clothes on her back, her purse, and a wallet with enough cash to get her by for a few days. Still, she could stop by a bank ATM on the way. Until she could figure out what to do in the long run, she’d hide out in Fate.