Page 112 of Pack Fever

Twenty-Eight

JASPER

Seth’s frustrated curses echo across the penthouse, tearing through the tense silence that hangs like a thick fog in the air. I’m wound tight, a coiled viper of pent-up anger, every thought centered on Danica’s whereabouts and safety. The thought that Reed might let anything happen to her sends a surge of protectiveness roaring through me, a promise of retribution if a single hair on her head is harmed.

Approaching Seth, I can barely contain the urgency in my voice. “What the hell are you doing?” I demand, my gaze fixed on his agitated movements.

He’s tapping furiously on his phone, his expression darkening with each unsuccessful attempt. “This damn tracking app on all our phones is glitching, and I can’t get a lock on Reed’s location,” he growls, his frustration furrowing his brow.

The reality of his words hits me like a ton of bricks. “Wait, you’re tracking our phones? My fucking phone?” I can’t hide the shock in my voice.

“Of course,” Seth retorts, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “How else am I supposed to keep an eye on all of you bastards, especially with fans who might pull a Misery on us?”

I’m torn between amusement at his reference to the book and a newfound appreciation for his paranoia.

“I can’t even be pissed at you, man. Your over-worrying might actually save Danica and Reed now,” I concede, a half-smile tugging at my lips.

Seth offers a wry grin in return. “Thank me later, once we find them,” he says before putting the phone back to his ear. “Yes, I need help with an urgent matter,” he states, then strides off into another room, his voice fading as he seeks assistance with the app.

Left alone in the living room, I pace restlessly, my steps eventually leading me to the doorway of my room. There, in the corner, lies the makeshift nest of our clothes, still bearing the faint scent of Danica. The sight, coupled with the indent in the mountain of clothes where she lay last, sends a sharp pang through my chest, an ache so profound, it feels like it might split me in two.

Since finding the pack, I’ve finally felt a sense of belonging, a real family. But even with that connection, we were incomplete until Danica came into our lives. The thought of losing her now, after just beginning to understand what it means to be whole, is unbearable. I’ve experienced enough loss and faced enough rejection from my real family to last a lifetime. Now that I’ve found something—someone—worth holding onto, I’ll do whatever the fuck it takes to keep her safe.

My hands fist into balls.

Nothing is too much for her.

Shaken by the depth of my emotions, I step back from the room, my throat tight with unspoken fears. Seth reenters the living room, his attention glued to his phone.

“It’s working,” he announces, a thread of hope woven through his words.

I sprint toward him, driven by a desperate need to see for myself, to find some clue to Danica’s whereabouts on that tracking app. The distance between us disappears in a heartbeat, my entire being focused on the glowing screen in Seth’s hand, on the flickering dot that might just lead us to her.

We follow the tracker’s signal deep into suburbia on the air-down photo of a part of the city that’s foreign to us. It’s marked by suburban streets and rows of houses, so starkly different from the chaos of the city. As the dot on the screen comes to a halt over a seemingly mundane neighborhood, I shoot Seth a questioning look.

“You sure that’s working right?” I ask.

“Fuck, it better be. The guy on the phone said it’s all fixed.”

The determination in his voice ignites a fire within me.

“Okay then, so let’s go down there now. I’m ready to destroy the fucker who took her and Reed from us.” My words are a vow, a promise of retribution. “And don’t bother calling the cops,” I add, the very idea leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

“Wasn’t going to,” Seth shoots back, his agreement immediate. “Nexus owns most cops, and I’m not about to let them stand in our way. Hell no.”

Without another word, we’re sweeping through the penthouse, our movements swift. In moments, we’re in the car, Seth in the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the steering wheel with a white-knuckled intensity.

I quickly punch the address into the GPS, the coordinates leading us into the heart of the unknown. Seth floors the accelerator, and the car leaps forward. Every second away from Danica feels like an eternity. The city blurs past us, the urgency a tangible force that propels us forward.

“Okay, what’s our plan?” I ask. “Just burst in there and destroy them? Maybe we should have brought the guards with us, seeing we don’t know how many we’re dealing with. And we don’t have our handguns with us on the trip. But I brought a knife with me.”

Seth’s gaze remains fixed on the road ahead, his jaw grinding. “Nah, we do this alone. In case shit goes down, no one else is involved but us.”

“Works for me.” Means more fuckers for me to obliterate.

As we speed through the streets, every fiber of my being is on edge, the fear of what we might find clashing with the burning need to get to her to ensure she’s safe. The thought of Danica in danger is spurring us on.

We’re coming, little mouse.