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Trent, let her speak, I ordered, and Trent’s mouth snapped shut, whatever he was about to say silenced.
Wren glanced around the room, and when no one spoke, she continued. “I left the room, no doubt confusing Jess, but I couldn’t believe what I saw. I thought I was mistaken.” She fiddled with her sleeves, tugging them down over her hands, her next words shocking us. “I thought she was dead all these years. Seeing her in that photo….it was like seeing a ghost.”
Trent sank back against the couch, his hands snagging on Anna’s waist as he used her as an anchor, the photo falling to the ground. Liam leaned forward, picking it up, his forehead furrowed as he studied it.
Wren glanced at Thomas, who had gone pale. “Jess’ mom, your wife –”
“Ex,” Thomas corrected automatically, “Ex-wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Wren rectified, “I knew her when we were girls. She was a few years older than me. Her name was Lucy Hanley and she died when she was fifteen.”
“Clearly, she didn’t,” Thomas stated flatly and Wren looked down. “So, you went in my daughter’s room, saw the picture and decided it was your long lost dead friend?”
She flinched at his words and I felt an involuntary surge of sympathy for her. “No,” she whispered. “I told myself it wasn’t possible, that I was mistaken, it had just been a brief glimpse, but I couldn’t forget about it. I went back to her room and knocked, but she didn’t answer.” Wren bit her lip, sucking it in as she admitted, “I opened her door and went inside without her permission.” My legs stiffened at her invasion of my mate’s space and I forced back an instinctive growl. “I just wanted to peek at the photo again, convince myself I was wrong,” she said in a rush. “But it wasn’t on the nightstand.” She glanced at Trent, who continued to glare at her. “I heard the shower and figured I had a minute. I needed to see the picture again,” she confessed, her expression beseeching, but she wasn’t getting any sympathy from the wolves. We were territorial over our space and this was an admission of invasion, and not Wren’s first time. She’d crossed our lands without permission trying to save her brother, Dylan, and we’d forgiven it, but I was less inclined to forgive her for this transgression. “I spotted it on the dresser mirror, folded and stuck in the corner, her mother hidden from view. I was reaching for it when I heard the shower cut off. I panicked and took it when I left her room.”
“If you were in there when Jess was in the shower, then her water wasn’t drugged then,” Anna said slowly, piecing things together while I still bristled over Wren being in Jess’ space without her permission.
“It must have been done earlier,” Trent concluded. None of us bothered with the idea that it might have been Wren. She would have confessed if that was the case and I didn’t get the impression she was hiding anything.
There’s always water on Jess’ nightstand, I acknowledged over the Pack link, having seen a bottle sitting there often enough. It was her habit to keep a bottle there.
“Jess keeps water by her bed,” Thomas stated, repeating my words, though he didn’t realize it. “It’s something she’s done since she was a little girl.”
“So, something her mother would know,” Trent reasoned and Thomas nodded.
“Yes, her mother would remember that,” he agreed.
“And use it to her advantage,” Trent responded with a scowl. I was ready to rip her mother apart the second we found her, the only problem was we had no idea why she’d taken her or where.
“Are you sure?” Thomas demanded, turning on Wren. “Are you sure my ex-wife is the same Lucy Hanley you knew as a girl?”
Wren opened her mouth, but Liam answered for her as he held up the photo he’d been studying. “She’s the Alpha’s sister.”
Chapter Nine
Jess
“I have to pee,” I said, unable to keep the hint of a whine from my voice. We’d been riding in silence after her startling admission. She’d managed to shock me into muteness at the realization that she cared enough to try and protect me, even if it was misguided in the extreme.
“Can’t you hold it?” She grumbled, her hands tightening around the steering wheel as she resisted my request to stop.
“I’ve been holding it,” I bit out. “For hours,” I added, unable to keep the bitterness from my tone. “Any longer and I’m going to pee on myself.”
“You always did that,” she muttered. “Drink water before bed and then have to get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve been cured of that,” I informed her and she actually had the grace to flush at my dig. “But seriously Mother, you have to stop at some point.”
