Page 56 of Not Ready

“I haven’t picked up any of them on the active feeds in DC. They’re excellent at disappearing.” Merrick hums. “I’m guessing they realized they had someone on to them when Hargrove and Merryweather pulled the cameras. That, or when you found the trackers.”

“You have no idea where they are?” Bishop growls.

“I’m doing my thing, but it takes time. They’ll eventually surface, and the closest team can clean house,” Merrick says, like Bishop isn’t about to blow a fucking fuse. “My software is constantly scanning for any hits on facial recognition. I’m sending the gate an updated package with all the photos I’ve got of Price and his team, both current and past versions. As well as all their known aliases and general descriptions. If he comes looking for her, it’ll be handled. Look at the bright side.”

“Yeah,” Bishop grunts, grabbing the signed pack-marriage paperwork and stomping out.

The door slams behind him.

“Just me and you?” Merrick asks.

“Yup.”

“Take me off speakerphone. I learned my lesson with that once before.”

I don’t know what he means, but I shove off the wall and snatch up the phone. “We’re good.”

“Listen, this is going to be a lot. I know you assholes think I have no tact, but I kept it as mild as possible because I knew she was listening.” Merrick sighs heavily.

“Speak,” I growl, swiping my hand over my face.

My stomach feels like someone is twisting my intestines in knots. I just need him to lay it out there, so I know what the fuck we’re dealing with.

“Price—Andrew Landis—whatever the fuck you want to call him, was in her life longer than she realizes. I caught him for the first time on the video surveillance footage of the ATM I mentioned, and that was a solid few months before I could find him on the club feeds. How pregnant is she, exactly?”

“What?” I hiss. “Why?”

“Just answer the fucking question, Holton.”

He never calls me by my full first name, and it puts the fear of God into me.

“I don’t know. Like thirty-four weeks? That’s what she said at the doctor’s office.”

“He was in the picture then,” Merrick says slowly. He always does that shit when he’s thinking something through.

“Why does that matter? The baby’s father was a one-night stand gone wrong. She would’ve recognized him if they were the same person.” Apparently, I have no idea what he’s insinuating.

“Maybe,” Merrick agrees. “Or maybe he was planted in her life too.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I whisper. My knees seem to give out, and I toss myself down onto the closest chair. “You’re saying they purposely tried to get her pregnant? She’s an omega, and she wasn’t in heat.”

Except, Dr. Garza specifically mentioned omegas are getting pregnant outside of heats more and more these days.

“Yeah, there’s every possibility that I’m completely off base. The other line my thought process took me down is actually more disturbing than that, if you can believe it,” he says, sounding disgusted.

“Fucking tell me,” I say, shaking my head.

Merrick is stupidly fucking smart, but more than that, he’s excellent at profiling perps.

“The other possibility is the baby doesn’t belong to the one-night stand at all.”

That thought turns my stomach so violently that I actually bend in half, putting my head near my knees. My hand shakes as I hold the phone to my ear. The nausea doesn’t get better, but I take a few breaths, and that lightheaded feeling that comes before passing out goes away.

It’s a severe reaction.

I’ve seen some shit in my lifetime.

The military was a certain kind of hell, but the garbage we deal with now is different. I’ve never once faced it with anything less than the necessary emotional distance it requires to stay professional.

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