No, she wasn’t ready. But Brown was out the window before she could answer, and the noises that followed didn’t offer much comfort. She scrambled out her window, wincing as broken glass cut through the back of her shirt and embedded in her palms. By the time she was on her feet, Brown had shot one man and was staring at the woman—gun ready.
“Can you do it, Mr. Brown?” Cyrus’s voice was taunting.
Jessa huddled behind the truck, bracing her shaking arm on the bent metal frame of the vehicle they’d been driving. She wiped the wetness from her face, rubbed it on her white leggings. She gripped the gun in her hand, but her arm was shaking, going numb.
Brown’s arm fell, dropping to his knees in defeat.
“The weakness of humanity,” Cyrus said. “Now, watch her do what you couldn’t. Tess.”
The woman was staring at her, eyes narrowed, a small smile on her face. The sort of smile that caused fear to churn in the pit of her stomach.
Cyrus grabbed Brown by the hair, forcing the man to turn—to see her. “Run Jessa,” Brown called out.
That was when Jessa saw the gun in the woman’s hand. She pushed off the car, swaying on unsteady legs. Walking wasn’t easy, running was almost impossible. She tried to make it off the road and into the woods. Maybe in the trees, she could lose them.
The gun went off, and Jessa was knocked forward, a shooting pain in her right shoulder. Two more shots and she was on the ground, her nose buried in wet leaves and dirt. She couldn’t move, her limbs were too heavy…
“You killed one of mine. I killed one of yours,” Cyrus’s voice rang out. “You tell Mr. Dean what happened here. You tell him I shot her in the back and she died in the dirt. Tell him I’ll be waiting.”
Cyrus’s words echoed in her ears. This was all to get Finn. All of it.
“If he doesn’t come, his pup is next,” Cyrus continued.
Jessa sobbed, an odd numbness seeping into her limbs and weighing her down. She hurt, yes, but it was dull—fading.
She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to leave Finn or Oscar. Or the baby their love had made. Breathing became difficult, her vision blurred…
“Jessa Talbot,” Cyrus said, lifting her easily into his arms. He sniffed her temple, his cold eyes narrowing. “You smell different now.” He sniffed again, bending close to her. “Plus one?” His smile grew. “I have to give it to him. Mating is a more exciting way to build a pack than biting.”
“Am I going to die?” she forced the words through stiff lips.
He held her away from him. “Now? No. Tranquilizer darts. I still need you.” His hand tilted her head back, his pale eyes searching hers. “Until this pup is born, that is. After that, I might decide to keep you as a pet. Or I’ll kill you.” He frowned then. “You’re bleeding. Let’s wrap this up so you can rest more comfortably.”
He carried her back to the street as a black SUV pulled up and two men climbed out, immediately going through the wreckage. It was hard to keep her eyes open now but she tried. She had no idea what they were looking for.
They dumped the contents of her purse on the road, shredding the fabric and tossing it carelessly. They found the shopping bag and the pregnancy tests.
He held his hand out, taking one of the tests. “Leave the other one in plain sight,” he said.
She started crying when she saw Brown, his head bashed and bloody.
“He’s alive, Jessa.” Cyrus said. “He needs to stay alive.”
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She glanced at him, torn between tears and fury.
He smiled down at her. “Miss Talbot, let me make one thing clear. Until this pup is born, I will treat you generously. But never mistake my patience with tolerance.” He sighed. “You may disagree with my manner of doing things. You may feel anger, or fear, for me. But I will not tolerate disrespect. So, when you’re feeling especially annoyed, I recommend you keep your eyes on the ground. Or I will feel obligated to discipline you.” He gripped her chin with one hand. “And while I know I would enjoy your lessons, you, I promise, would not.”
Jessa closed her eyes, unable to fight the darkness creeping in.
“Sleep now, Jessa,” his voice was low, almost sympathetic. “You’ll need your energy.”
…
“We can take ‘em,” Mal said, pacing the rooftop.
“Her brother is inside.” Finn ran a hand through his hair, exhaustion weighing him down.