Page 41 of Pack Plus Three

My open apartment door.

“Did you forget to close your door?” Jeremy asked, his voice overly calm.

“I’m pretty sure I locked it. I knew that if you came home before me and found my door unlocked, you would have been unhappy with me, so I triple checked!” The only reason I had actually remembered was because I hadn’t wanted to displease him.

So, the fact that my door was wide open was more than slightly disconcerting.

“Stay here,” he instructed, slowly putting the shopping bags down before heading forward.

Part of me wanted to follow him, but I got the distinct impression he would not be happy with me if I did that.

“I probably just forgot,” I admitted with a grimace.

“Considering I can see your doorjamb is broken from here, I don't think that's the case,” Jeremy said in a low voice. His hand reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out his keys, and without even looking at me, he handed them back to me. “Go wait in my apartment.”

“But—”

“Do it. Please.”

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, gently taking the keys out of his hands and turning toward his door. His doorway was untouched. There wasn't even a scuff mark on it. It was clear from the outside that it was a very well-sealed door. The door was thick and sturdy, and there were several obvious locks.

It took me a moment to open both locks, especially with my hands shaking. I was trying to convince myself that I’d just had a pregnancy brain moment and forgotten to lock the door and left it open. The damaged doorframe made it painfully obvious that wasn't the case, though.

Gilbert greeted me excitedly at the door, and I quickly pushed him into the apartment, giving him a quick pet as I made my way toward Jeremy's living room.

Unsure what to do with myself, I sat down on the sofa for a moment. Should I have been calling the police? The neighborhood was so bad, I reasoned there was probably no point in calling the police because it would take them half a day to even answer the call.

When Jeremy didn't return in ten minutes, I couldn't stay still any longer and opted to get up and start pacing his kitchen, pulling out any baking ingredients I could find. At least I could fill my time with something useful, like baking apple pie cookies.

He had mentioned he'd been having a craving for apple pie. As if he could feel my stress, Gilbert stayed glued to my side. Even while I was baking, he refused to leave my heels, staring up at me with those big puppy-dog eyes, like he could tell my insides were churning violently. There had been a brief moment when I’d first moved into my apartment when I had considered getting a dog for safety. Then I realized how expensive it was to feed a dog and concluded that it wasn’t a viable option.

Even though Gilbert wasn't exactly a guard dog, he was still good company, especially when I was feeling stressed.

I was putting the first batch of cookies in the oven when Jeremy came in, his lips turned down in a frown.

“I'm guessing I didn't just forget to lock the door?”

“No, someone broke into your apartment,” he growled. “The place has been ransacked. I'm so sorry, sweet girl. There's no way in hell you're going back there tonight.”

“Where else would I go?” I asked, bewildered. I had admitted to Jeremy a long time ago just how bad my family situation was. There was no one I could go and seek sanctuary with.

“You're staying with me,” he declared.

“I thought this place only had one bedroom?” Though I wouldn't be opposed to staying with Jeremy—I was quite fond of his apartment—I felt like it would be a massive imposition.

“Not here. You're coming back with me to the packhouse. Tonight.”

I stuttered, trying to find the right words. He wanted me to go to his packhouse with him. Where his pack lived? What sane alpha would bring a random pregnant omega back to their packhouse?

“Jeremy, I . . .”

“It's not safe here—they trashed the place. I spoke to some of the neighbors, and a few other places were broken into. It's only sheer luck that this place wasn't, because I installed some good security, but that doesn't mean I think the security is good enough for you. The packhouse is far more secure. We've got plenty of space. And we have a whole omega suite.”

“I can't just encroach on your pack’s space!” I cried.

“It's not encroaching. I'm inviting you.”

“Well, I'm turning down your invitation,” I said haughtily, tilting my head up.

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