Speed up. Speed up. Speed up.The silent chant started in my head in time with my heart pounding in my chest, and my anxiety ratcheted up again.
As we hit the middle of the bridge, right when we could see the road into town, the truck caught up to us and clipped our rear end. The contact sent us into a skid that Girard couldn’t control, and we swerved, fish-tailing, before another nudge from the front of the truck flipped us onto our side.
Charmaine screamed and Wes gripped my thigh, his fingers bony and tight as they clamped around my leg. His breathing was hard, like he’d run several miles.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he whispered.
Metal creaked as the truck nudged us again, but I couldn’t unscramble my thoughts. I was sitting the wrong way round, and something hurt.
Then we moved on our side a second time, the metal groaning against the asphalt like the car was in pain before the truck cleared us over the low guard rail. We went into free fall, plummeting into the river below.
18
PATRICK
Iglanced at the clock on my office wall when my phone pinged, further distracting me from the letter I was studying. I glanced at my phone and sighed.
It was only Jackson, letting me know that the two pack members who’d been in the lobby earlier had finished fine-tuning the installation of the new office door. A small amount of shame nudged at me, but I mostly didn’t care about the extra work or the additional expense. At least not as much as I should have.
Anything was worth protecting Jo. I’d have rebuilt the entire damn building if my anger had brought it down in ruins.
Before I could really complete my thought, my phone rang and I checked the screen. I didn’t want too many more distractions if I didn’t want to spend half the night here. It was Brody, though, so I answered.
“Got some news on that traced call?”
“No.” He was all business and far too serious, and I immediately snapped to attention. “I’ve got news about Jo.”
My chest hollowed. It was bad news. That much was clear.
“Yes?” The less I said, the quicker he’d tell me what the problem was.
“The car she was in with Girard has been attacked.”
I was already on my feet. “Where is it?”
“Patrick, it’s worse.”
I nearly sat down again, my knees suddenly weaker. “What is it?” My voice was hoarse and my heart beat fast, although such an extreme reaction made no sense.
“The car was forced into the river from a bridge. It was the shallowest part. We’re checking for nearby traffic camera footage now.”
I kept my phone clamped to my ear as I left my office, only barely remembering not to slam this door too as my wolf threatened to take control now that I knew Jo was in danger again.
Brody’s office had never felt so far away before as I made my way there, and I couldn’t hear his individual words anymore as my head filled with white noise and my wolf scrabbled inside me, demanding to be let out. I’d run to the river, find the scent of whoever had hurt Jo, and destroy them.
Or I wouldn’t. I’d do things the legal way, still find whoever had hurt Jo and ensure they suffered for it in every way Apex could manifest. But sometimes we flexed “legal” a little.
Brody’s office door stood open.
Jackson glanced up. “We were expecting you. Didn’t want you slamming anything unnecessarily.”
I didn’t respond to his joke. Now was nowhere near the time for those, but he didn’t always have appropriate boundaries.
“I’m pulling up all of the footage I can get a hold of right now.” Brody glanced over his shoulder before returning his attention to the screen and tapping a few more keys.
Jackson grabbed a remote control and turned up the television in the corner. A reporter was standing by one of the bridges that was on the way back into town.
A ticker tape ran at the bottom of the screen, declaring breaking news.