“Ellen,” she paused. “Is my baby safe?”
Ellen sat back on her chair, her peculiar gaze settling on Jessa’s stomach. “I’d like to say yes, girl. But with Cyrus, there are no guarantees. We’ll just have to wait and see.” She patted Jessa’s thigh again, stood, and stepped out of the room.
Jessa closed her eyes, digging deep for strength. She sat up, pushing off the table and crossing to the door. She opened it slowly, holding her breath as she peered outside. Byron stood across the hall, his arms crossed over the wall of his chest. He cocked one thick eyebrow at her and shook his head. For the first time, she wished Finn hadn’t just made her his mate. She wished he’d made her a wolf. Then she’d have a fighting chance.
She didn’t see much else before Ellen appeared, walking her back inside the room and closing the door behind them.
“Here ya go,” Ellen said, unperturbed by Jessa’s curiosity. She offered her a bottle of water. “Need to stay hydrated. Especially considering what you’ve been through. Finish up and I’ll get the glass out of your hands.”
Ellen busied herself opening the medical packets she’d brought with her into the room.
Jessa took a sip of the water, praying Ellen’s intentions were good. She gulped down the cold water, not realizing just how thirsty she was. But once the bottle was empty, she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Water wasn’t the only thing in the bottle.
“Shit” Ellen’s voice. “Byron! Did you put something in her water? You stupid sonofabitch!”
…
Finn stared at the small grocery store, his heart in his throat. He could smell her—faintly. An old scent trail, but it was Jessa. She’d been here.
He choked off his motorcycle and went inside, his eyes sweeping the store. It was late. The clerk was red-
eyed, reading a local newspaper. A couple of teenagers were shoving candy in their pants. An old woman was reading the packages of adult diapers.
He grabbed a bottle of water and some gum and headed to the counter.
“Anything else?” the clerk asked.
“I’m looking for them,” he said, pulling the photos of Brown and Jessa from his pocket, adding a hundred-dollar bill beneath the pictures.
The clerk eyed the money and tucked it into his pocket, nodding. “Here last night. Cute couple. Probably headed off somewhere to celebrate.”
“Celebrate?” Finn asked.
“You don’t buy two pregnancy tests if you get a negative the first time around. She was in the bathroom with one. He came up five minutes later to buy another one.”
Finn stared at the man, blood roaring in his ears. “These two? You’re sure?”
The clerk nodded. “She’s prettier than the average three a.m. customers.”
Finn nodded, willing his focus onto one thing—finding them. He stared down at the picture of Jessa. “Which way did they go?”
“East, I think.” The clerk shrugged.
Finn nodded, pushed through the doors, and climbed onto his bike. His lungs struggled to find air. Jessa was pregnant? He stared at her picture. Harry had given it to him. She was smiling, almost laughing. She was the most beautiful thing in his world. He needed her to come home. To be at his side, with Oscar. And their new baby? His heart constricted tightly, the pain blinding. Where are you?
This was his fucking fault. All of it. He’d lost control, given in to his weakness, and now she was pregnant, which was probably why Cyrus took her. He couldn’t lose her. He drew in a deep breath, drained the water bottle, and pocketed the gum, all while working through his options. Sitting there doing shit wasn’t one of them.
With a final look at the drugstore, he walked into the tall trees behind the building and stripped. He stored his clothes beneath a towering pine, and let his wolf take over. He didn’t have time to register pain—the shift was quick—before he was off and running. The wolf didn’t give a shit about pain. All it knew was Jessa was missing, gone. And it couldn’t deal with that.
Fuck it. He couldn’t deal. When it came to Jessa, he and the wolf were the same. They needed her like they needed air.
Ten hours. Ten hours with no word, no returned phone calls, no texts, nothing but silence. And he and his wolf were close to losing their shit.
He ran, his paws silent on the fallen needles and damp moss covering the ground. He sifted through the heavy earth, the clean, fresh odor of the forest—dirt, plants, animals. Beyond the green, growing things was the highway. Jessa. He drew her deep into his lungs, tracking her scent along the side of the highway. Around a hundred miles from the drugstore, the scents changed. Metal. Oil. Rubber. Smoke. Flames. Blood. Lots of blood. Metal. Brown. Jessa. Unfamiliar. But they ended. Cut short by the sting of bleach. Someone had covered their scents.
Someone who’d know to cover their scents.
He ran across the road, his nose working overtime now. Jessa had been here. Her scent was strong. Unlike the rest of the ground, the leaves and dirt were displaced—as if someone had fallen. Jessa had fallen. The scent of her blood filled his nostrils and clamped down on his heart. He spun, sifting through the leaves for more. There was a trail, there had to be.