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I shrieked wordlessly as she sauntered away, pulling and yanking on the chains in a pointless attempt to get away. My shoulder popped, sending a cascade of pain through my body that shut me up with a gasp. When Nolan’s screams picked up once more, I broke down sobbing and prayed desperately that Killian would find us—even if only to rescue Nolan.
Chapter 120
Killian
Who the fuck thought letting her out of the house alone was a good fucking idea?” I raged as I paced the kitchen, trying to call my wife and getting her voicemail all over again. Something didn’t feel right. Maybe it was all in my head, but something about her silence didn’t sit right with me. Not with everything going on.
“No one fucking let her go out,” Gabby snapped from the living room. We were on opposite attempts to get Genevieve on the phone. She’d been gone for four hours. Four fucking hours without communication. That was too fucking long. “Except this fucking idiot who was on the couch.”
“I was on the fucking couch,” Cade cut in, “sleeping. I’m allowed to fucking sleep. No one told me she wasn’t allowed to go out or that I had to follow her around. I didn’t even hear her leave.”
It was just the three of us—well, Lane was here, but he was on some kind of fucking work call. I didn’t want to involve him unless I knew I fucking needed him. The rest of my brothers were managing shit at the house. The pack was on self-imposed lockdown. Most of the families were sticking around. With one damn near begging call to Sebastian, I managed to get the pack employees at the mill time off without affecting their pay. It wasn’t much, but at least it gave us a few fucking days to figure out the next steps.
“Some fucking guard dog,” she muttered. Jesus fucking Christ. I understood she was stressed, but there was no fucking need to start a goddamn fight.
“Call me a guard dog one more time and see what fucking happens,” he threatened.
“No,” I interjected quickly, growling hard as Gabby opened her mouth to taunt him. “I don’t give a fuck what you two have going on. I want to find my wife.”
I tried calling Nolan because he was the only other one I could think of. He was Genevieve’s other safe place. The problem was that Nolan wasn’t answering either. It worried me. Maybe it was fucking nothing, but my gut didn’t agree with that notion.
“You,” I pointed to Cade, “are coming with me.”
“You should probably stay here,” Cade retorted. “You’re still hurting.”
Like hell I was staying behind. I was healing—slowly but I was. And I didn’t give a fuck about any of that. I needed to calm the fucking storm in my chest and make sure she was okay.
“Fuck you. I’m fine,” I said. “Be ready in five. Gabby, you keep fucking calling her until she answers.”
I didn’t wait for anyone to say anything as I forced myself to go change, my body pissed off the entire fucking way.
The Treehouse was closed and looked like it had been for days. It was one of two places they would’ve been. The second was Nolan’s apartment.
“Stay here,” I said to Cade as I climbed out of the car. He made a sound. I wasn’t fond of his version of the puppy squad. However, that bracelet around his wrist made him my best ally as far as wolves went. Hell, he stood a better chance than I did at this point.
At the top of the stairs, the door to Nolan’s apartment was cracked open. Red fucking flag: Nolan never left his door open. He valued his privacy too much for that shit. Only Lucas had free reign of his apartment.
Immediately, I drew my gun as I toed open the door. My stomach dropped out. The small living room was a mess of broken furniture and shattered glass. It was overkill. Nolan was harmless. There was no need to go through this shit trying to get to him—especially not when she could control his wolf.
I sucked in a deep breath and made myself sweep the tiny apartment.
Bedroom… clear.
Bathroom… clear.
I even checked the goddamn closet because I didn’t fucking trust her not to hide some stupid shit in there.
Nothing. Nolan and Genevieve weren’t there. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if Genevieve was here. It could’ve been Nolan.
A loud thunk and rustle had me whirling on my heels, gun raised. Instead of Sadie, it was one of Nolan’s fucking cats struggling to get up on the fucking counter next to me. The fat one—fuck if I remembered his name—howled at me from the countertop.
“It’s okay, fat cat,” I murmured and absentmindedly reached out to pet him. Poor shit was probably hungry, but I didn’t have a fucking clue how to feed a goddamn cat. I didn’t even like cats. I fucking tolerated them because Nolan needed them. “It’s…”
I faltered as something glinted on the ground in the late afternoon sun. What the fuck was that? Gripping my gun, I went to look.
My heart damn near stopped.
Sitting in a small pool of blood, Nolan’s glasses caught the sunlight. Laid out next to them was Genevieve’s collar. Both were broken. I crouched down, running a hand over my mouth as my mind raced. Was it Nolan’s blood? Or Genevieve’s? Both?
