She couldn’t just disappear.
He ran onto the road, sniffing the asphalt and gravel, needing answers…
Cars. Lots of traffic. More bleach. Muddying who went where.
His frustration mounted, tearing a howl from his throat as he made the run back to his bike. The run took too long, his impatience and worry making each mile stretch out before him. He pushed, mindless of his bloody paws and aching lungs, until the drugstore was in sight. Tension tightened every muscle and nerve, making his shift painful and his skin itch. His phone was ringing before he’d finished dressing.
“What’s going on? Where are you?” Dante asked. “Where’s Mal?”
“Tracking Thomas,” Finn snapped.
Dante sighed. “And you? I’m not going to sit here on my ass while you two—”
“I need your help,” he interrupted. “I think Brown and Jessa were in an accident. Call all the hospitals in the Lake Viking, Missouri area. See if a man and a woman were brought in.”
Dante paused. “Lake Viking only?”
He was reeling. “To start.”
“Keep it together, man.” Dante’s voice lowered. “Brown’s got her. She’ll be okay.”
“They bleached the road, Dante. Whoever they are, wherever they went, they knew to cover their tracks.” He could barely say the words.
“Shit.” Dante said. “We’ll find her. Keep your phone handy.”
Finn hung up, finished dressing, and headed back to his bike. He plugged in the closest trauma equipped hospital, and roared down the highway. But then a text from Anders had him turning around for a different facility. A reported three-car collision resulting in two fatalities, both men, and two in critical condition—a man and a woman
He broke all speed records as he flew down the highway. She was alive, he had to believe that. That was all he needed to know. She’d be okay, he’d make sure of that.
And Brown? The man was tough, tougher than any other human Finn knew.
And the baby…if there was a baby? The clerk could have been mistaken. He hoped he was. His dalliance with Cara had been brief, but his son was a gift he loved more every day. He was sorry for Cara’s death, but losing Jessa—he couldn’t think about it.
Hollis was still trying to determine the cause of Cara’s death. Which meant it could have been a car accident. Or it could have resulted from delivering Oscar. If it was the latter, he would do everything in his power to stop something from happening to Jessa.
First things first, he had to get to her. To touch her and tell her he loved her.
“I’m Finnegan Dean,” he said to the med tech at the reception desk.
“Oh.” The woman jumped up, nervous. “Dr. Robbins called. Follow me.”
“What rooms?” he snapped. She’d only slow him down.
“A210 and A211, but—”
Finn took the stairs, sprinting to the second floor and pushing through the door. He scanned the sign on the wall, read the room numbers, and turned left. Most of the overhead lights were dimmed—it was three in the morning.
When he reached A211, he slipped inside and stared at the bed. In it was an unfamiliar woman, unconscious and hooked up to wires.
He hurried to A210 and recognized Brown. The man’s eyes were shut, his face a patchwork of angry colors. His heart rate was strong and even.
“Brown?” he murmured.
Brown’s eyes popped open, blinking frantically.
“Where is Jessa?” Finn asked, desperate for answers.
The man’s eyes fell shut, his nostrils flaring. He sucked in a shuddering breath. “Cyrus—”