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I laughed, not offended since she spoke the truth. “You mind if I leave my clothes here?” I asked her, planning to shift for my run back to the motel.
“It’s your house,” she stated, rolling her eyes. “If you’re asking me to wash them that’s totally different.”
Her words reminded me of how I’d felt coming over. “It’s your house, Sam.” She glanced at me in surprise and I nodded. “I mean it. It belongs to you and Nicky. You decide if Payne has a place or not, but you will always have a home.” Her eyes sparkled in the dim light but I knew better than to react to her tears. She wouldn’t thank me for it. “I’ll sign the deed over to you tomorrow,” I continued.
“I didn’t say I wanted it,” she countered, lifting her chin mutinously.
“I wasn’t asking if you wanted it. I’m giving it to you,” I declared as I rested my hand on her shoulder. “I need to know you’ll be here. That I want you here.”
“So you give me your house,” she huffed in exasperation. “And what’s Jess going to think of that?”
“She’ll probably be glad to know you’re not coming back to the motel,” I said honestly and Sam stared at me in shock before smiling broadly.
“There’s hope for you yet, little brother.” I grunted in reply, stripping off my shirt and handing it to her. “And then you do something like that,” she sighed. I unbuttoned my pants and yanked them off as she averted her eyes. “I don’t need to see your junk, brother of mine.”
“Then don’t look,” I retorted, tossing the pants to her as I leapt off the porch, shifting mid jump. I landed with four paws on the ground, shaking myself. I inhaled deeply, the scents of the forest flowing through me. A rabbit huddled a few yards away, sensing a sudden predator. I gave a sharp bark, startling it into hopping away, easy prey.
“Bye, Dom,” Sam said, folding my pants as I took off into the forest. I loped through the woods, most of the dense underbrush gone from the familiar path, making it easy for me. Birds took off as they heard my approach, sounding a warning to anything roaming the night floor.
Some of my tension eased as I headed toward Jess and I stretched my legs, eating up the distance between us, eager to see her.
A blast of panic surged through me and I stumbled trying to determine who the feeling came from.
Trent? I questioned, since my link to Jess was quiet. It wasn’t the Navarre Pack so it could only be Trent or Liam. Or Dylan, I added with a sigh, knowing it was more than possible after what happened earlier.
She’s missing, was the panicked response that I got. I can’t find her.
Who? I asked, my mind jumping to Wren since she’d went into the forest after Dylan.
Jess, Trent answered and my heart stopped. Jess is missing.
Chapter Five
Jess
I ignored the looks Wren kept sending my way during dinner, pretending I didn’t notice the surreptitious glances. Trent glanced between us, but didn’t say anything as he shoveled bites of steak in his mouth. Dad didn’t seem to notice as he chatted with the boys and I really wanted to ask Dom, but I could sense his distraction through the bond.
I eyed Trent, suspecting he knew why Wren kept sending me sidelong glances. I intended to ask him, but he must have read my mind because he stood as he shoved the last bite in his mouth. “I’ve got to patrol since Liam isn’t here,” he muttered around the food in his mouth. “Thanks for dinner.” He waved, ignoring my narrowed gaze that promised retribution.
I picked up his plate, not bothering to finish my own steak, having lost my appetite. Dylan’s gaze followed my plate as I stood and I offered him the remaining half of the steak on it. He took it eagerly and I heard Wren whisper, “Thank you.” I nodded, not wanting to make a big deal of it, as I took the plates to the sink.
“You cooked, we clean,” Dad quickly called after me and I didn’t protest, taking the chance to escape Wren’s gaze. I hustled back to my room, throwing myself on the bed, glad to finally be alone. I rubbed my face against my pillow, smelling the faintly musky scent that I knew was Dom. The sight of a silky black hair made me smile, as I burrowed into the blanket, wanting to pull the covers over my head and block out the entire day. Dylan sat at our kitchen table, on two legs instead of four, but every time I closed my eyes, I could see him lunging at me. My mind knew it wasn’t his fault, could even convince itself that he wouldn’t have hurt me, but my sense of self-preservation wasn’t as easily convinced. It had been difficult to sit there with him, to avoid Wren’s questioning gaze, even if I didn’t know what she was questioning, and eat as if nothing was wrong. I wasn’t even sure if Dylan realized what he’d done.
