Fuck it! I started ramming my fist into the wall until Ben grabbed my shoulders.
“That’s enough, son.” He pushed me back and stepped in front of me. “We’ll get out of here and find Taryn, but you’ve got to keep a clear head if we’re going to do that.”
I took a deep breath. “Sorry.”
He was right, but I needed my Taryn safe, and I needed her safe yesterday.
I could survive anything as long as she was by my side.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
TARYN
Something wet touched my hand, and I jerked awake.
For a second, I didn’t know where I was.
The room spun slowly around me. The dim lamp in the corner cast long shadows across the stained walls of the clubhouse bedroom.
Then I felt the weight on my lap.
Maximus.
The big pit mix lifted his head and looked up at me, his scarred face creased in concern.
“Hey,” I whispered.
My voice sounded rough. Like I’d swallowed sand.
Max’s tail thumped weakly against the floor.
I tried to sit up, but the movement sent a spike of pain through my skull.
“God,” I muttered, holding a hand to my head.
It felt like my head had been stuffed with cotton and then set on fire.
My skin was hot.
Too hot.
I pressed the back of my hand to my forehead. I was definitely running a fever.
Great.
I glanced toward the bed. Beck hadn’t moved an inch. He lay on his side exactly the way I’d left him, one arm hanging over the edge of the mattress. Sweat soaked through his shirt and darkened the pillow beneath his head.
Sweating when running a fever was usually a good sign, showing that your fever had broken. Whatever this was, it didn’t seem to work that way.
I leaned in closer. His breathing was shallow but steady. I exhaled softly, relieved that he was still breathing.
“Hang on, Beck,” I murmured.
No matter what I’d said to him, the fear of Beck changing filled me with dread. The thought of having to kill this beautiful man was more than I could bear. I didn’t know if what I felt was love, but it was damn close.
Max followed me as I pushed myself to my feet.
I grabbed a bottle of water and forced a few drops between Beck’s dry, cracked lips. Most of it ran back down his chin, but his throat moved as he swallowed a small amount.
