Page 118 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

“That’s it though—there is no life without Izzy.”

Paper crinkles as Trick drops his head against the padded examination table. He stares at the ceiling, the thoughts warring in his mind playing across his face.

When he finally speaks, it’s this dejected, flat tone that I’ve never heard from him.

“I’m protecting her as much as us. The circus right now... knowing we caused it is killing me.”

“Then we make it up to her.”

“She’s made her choice, Mase.”

“Has she? Or is she panicked and scared, hiding away from the world? I wouldn’t blame her. We told her she’d be safe with us, and now she’s running for her life, alone.”

“There’s nothing we can do about that.”

“Yes, there is,” I say. “We get her back.”

“Exactly,” Mason adds with the snap of his fingers.

“You assume she wants that.”

“Only one way to find out.”

“We don’t know where she is.”

“Which is why we’re missing the game. We have other priorities.”

“The team is our priority.”

“The pack is our priority,” I insist. “Mason and I both want this. We outvote you.”

Trick eyes us. The calculating gaze narrows.

“You really think she’ll come back?”

Mason crosses his arms and grins. He knows as well as I do what that question really means.

“I’ll bring knee pads to make it easier on you to beg, old man,” I say.

The realization that we’re serious flows over him like a tidal wave.

His face relaxes for the first time in two weeks, his jaundiced skin flushing a healthy, dusty pink.

“Alright,” he says. “You both know what we have to do.”

“We do,” Mason says.

“Good. Let’s go get our girl.”

* * *

Izzy

The Admin’s therapist chews on the end of her pen as she reads through my survey answers. Maybe it’s the perfectly coiffed helmet hair or the starched black button-down, but I am absolutely certain this woman would pass the fuck out if I told her how I truly felt.

“Your score is within the acceptable range, but I’m still worried about you, Isabelle.”

“Izzy,” I correct then smile apologetically.

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