Badger to the Bone (Honey Badger Chronicles, #3)

by Shelly Laurenston

When his blood-related granddaughter had come to his Pack-owned home, she’d brought her half-sisters with her and all three had become his concern. His responsibility. His problem. And, to be quite honest . . . his entertainment. Because where the three of them went—whether together or apart—trouble didn’t simply follow. It nested inside them like a parasite. The trio were the Typhoid Marys of trouble.

Then it hit him. This was not some crazy girl who happened to get her desperate hands on a knife. This . . . this was a well-trained killer. And staring at him, that well-trained killer put her blood-covered forefinger to her lips and said, “Shhhhh.”

“Why are you asking?” Max questioned. “You know we’ll just lie. We’re very good at lying.” “I’m not,” Tock admitted. “I believe in painful honesty. The kind that destroys your soul and breaks your mind.”

Most of my family lives in denial and they all seem pretty happy there.”

After I accidentally shot Mr. Longchester from down the street—when he sniffed out some cake in our cabinets one morning—we haven’t had a problem with any more break-ins.”

Keane Malone knew he was angry. He was proud of his anger. He kept it close to him; tended to it like a lover.