Page 24 of Rescue Me

Ezra doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even look at him. It’s like Ethan doesn’t exist, and the rage I feel bubbling in my chest is barely containable. He doesn’t deserve a second of Ethan’s attention, but Ethan—sweet, big-hearted Ethan—still gives it to him.

I nudge Ethan gently toward the door, balancing the boxes in my arms. “Come on, baby,” I murmur, my tone softer now. “Let’s go.”

Ethan follows me out, distress radiating off him, even as I load the boxes into the car. By the time I slide into the driver’s seat and pull us out of the driveway, he’s hunched over in his seat, his hands clenched in his lap, his whole body coiled like a spring.

“I’ve got you, baby,” I purr, my thumb brushing small circles against the fabric of his jeans. “You don’t have to go back there. Not ever.”

He nods, but his eyes stay fixed on the road ahead, unfocused and distant. A tear slips down his cheek, and he swipes at it quickly, like he’s ashamed to cry. “I’m cutting him off. I thought I could make him see but it’s been three months. He’s never reached out. He hates you for taking me away from him because you aren’t the Alpha he chose. I can’t do this anymore, waiting for him to show up, to talk, to want to be part of my life just to turn around and spew all that garbage. I’m done.” Ethan scrambles for his phone and hurriedly swipes through a few screens before leaning back in his chair.

I don’t have to ask to know that he just blocked Ezra’s number. It takes me a few moments to realize why this visit has hurt more than the rest. The stress of everything happening right now is pushing him toward his heat, heightening his emotions and his reactions. “How are you feeling, baby?” I thread my fingers into his curls, massaging his head as a source of comfort.

His cheeks flush, just the faintest hint of pink, but he doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. I know the signs by now—the way his scent shifts, the way his emotions feel just a little closer to the surface. And with everything going on—with Reid—he’s barely holding it together.

And then his composure cracks. Another tear slides down his cheek and this time he doesn’t bother to wipe it away. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Zana,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “It hurts.”

I don’t even try to hide the anger that flares in my chest—not at Ethan, but at everything that’s hurting him. At Ezra. At the Wilhelms. At this whole broken system that’s put him in this position. I pull into our driveway, cutting the engine, and turn to face him fully.

“Listen to me.” I reach for his hand, holding it tightly between both of mine. “We’re going to get our Beta. I don’t care what it takes. I don’t care how long it takes. We’ll bring Reid home. You hear me? You’re not doing this alone.”

His lip trembles, and for a second, I think he’s going to break down completely. But instead, he nods, leaning into my touch like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. “You said our. Alpha, he’s yours too, isn’t he? Fuck, I knew it. Promise me you’ll bring him home.” he whispers.

“I promise,” I purr, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. “We’re going to fix this, Ethan. I’ll fight for him. For you. For us.”

He sags against me, his head resting against my shoulder, and I hold him close, letting him breathe, letting him feel. Whatever it takes, I’ll keep that promise. For Ethan. For Reid. For all of us.

Chapter sixteen

ETHAN

I feel like I’m dying.

Not in some dramatic, heart-clutching way, but slow. Constant. Like something’s burrowing into me, hollowing me out from the inside. It’s been three days since the diner when I saw him—my beautiful Beta—and it feels like I’ve been dragging myself through quicksand ever since. The harder I try to claw my way out, the deeper I sink.

I thought maybe work would help. Or fiddling with my nest, rearranging pillows and blankets like some kind of frantic bird. But nothing sticks. The ache is relentless. Every breath feels heavy, every second stretches out too long. I can’t shake this ghost of him, of his scent, of those hazel eyes that looked so... tired.

The bedroom is dark, the curtains pulled tight against the daylight. My laptop screen glows faintly, but it’s more for show than anything. I haven’t done anything productive in hours. I’m curled up in the middle of the nest, blankets wrapped tight around me like they might hold me together. They don’t. My body aches, my head throbs, and the hollow pit in my chest? It’s swallowing me whole.

Zana left for work this morning. I tried to act fine, tried to keep the panic off my face when I handed her the coffee I made. She didn’t buy it, not for a second.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said, her hand lingering on my cheek, her sharp eyes soft in that way only she manages. I told her I’d be fine, lying through my teeth, trying to be strong.

She hesitated—her Alpha instincts screaming at her not to leave—but I waved her off. She’s doing so much already, pulling strings, navigating the hellscape of legal loopholes surrounding the Wilhelms and Reid. She doesn’t need to babysit me, even though I know she would in a heartbeat.

The second she left, I climbed into the nest and stayed there. I told myself it’d help, being surrounded by our scents, by the safe, familiar chaos we built together. But even that isn’t enough. Not without him.

Reid.

How is it possible to miss someone you barely know? To crave someone you’ve only seen once? My body aches for him, my chest tightens at the thought of him, and none of it makes sense. He’s just a stranger. But also, he’s not. Not anymore.

I try to distract myself—opening tabs, starting emails I’ll never send, scrolling through design templates—but nothing sticks. My hands tremble when I type, my thoughts scattering before they can land on anything useful. Eventually, I give up and just sit there, scrolling endlessly through my socials to find something that might catch my attention.

Nothing does.

Most of the content there is for my freelance work and what little happiness shows through pictures are ones with my Alpha or moments at college when I felt free. And then I see it, a lingering notification. My brows furrow as I stare at it. It’s not from an account I recognize but as soon as I click it, the notification disappears.

I don’t know how I know but it’s Reid. He found me.

I try looking up the account but it’s private, no picture, and no information. The realization just makes my heart hurt more. I roll over, curling into myself as I hold my phone against my chest.

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