Page 93 of Broken Dreams

I have no idea when Hudson will be back.

A low moan from the back of the house has Duncan and I drawing our weapons and storming toward it. I didn’t see Hudson’s vehicle, but that doesn’t mean much since there’s a garage. Ayla said he wasn’t home, yet there’s so many possibilities in which she’d be forced to lie.

We rushed over here and into a potential trap on her fucking word. If she gets us killed, I’ll haunt her ass.

My knees nearly buckle for the second time tonight as I see Ayla unconscious on the ground, a bottle of Hudson’s expensive scotch clearly having chased the pills spilled out adjacent to it.

“Ayla,” I rasp, dropping to crawl to her. “Fuck. You can’t have been so stupid. We were on our way!”

“She could have done this before she called,” Duncan says numbly, crouching down beside her. Resolutely he pulls away the bottle and moves his fingers to her pulse.

“You’re a selfish twat,” he says as he turns her onto her side and holds her hair firmly. “This’ll be messy. You should move, Callum.”

That’s my only warning but I know him well enough to crab walk as far away as I can without being ridiculous. Duncan firmly shoves two fingers down Ayla’s throat, his eyes hard and determined.

“I will not tell Quinn that I got here too late,” he growls. “Puke that shit up Ayla!”

Duncan alpha barks at her, and I swear she begins to gag immediately. A moment later her body convulses, and he removes his fingers quickly in time for her to begin projectile vomiting. My brother rubs her back as he keeps her hair out of her face, though his snarl says he’s pissed off at her.

Frankly, so am I.

My chest is heaving with emotion and adrenaline as I watch them, deciding I need to get someone to pick up Linus and Quinn from work. Ugh, tonight is becoming a shit show. Pulling out my phone, I quickly call Jed for help.

Ayla is crying and apologizing, but Duncan looks as if he’s at a loss for words. I mean, what do we do next with her? Does she need to go to the hospital? Hudson will find her in two seconds.

“Hey,” Jed answers on the second ring. “What’s going on?”

“A lot,” I sigh. “I’m tied up at the Hughes home. Linus and Quinn are working at Club Serenity right now and need to be picked up. Do you think you could get them?”

“Quinn,” Ayla rasps out, even as she coughs.

Yeah, you need to get cleaned up before you see her.

“That sounds complicated,”Jed says. “Tell me what’s going on there exactly.”

It’s a demand, but he’s not being an asshole about it so I cave. He’s doing me a favor by getting my omegas from work so I can deal with all of this.

“Quinn’s mother swallowed a ton of pills and washed it down with alcohol. Duncan got her to puke some of it up, but it definitely looks like a suicide attempt,” I explain.

“I’ll send Morris,”Jed says simply. “What time do Quinn and Linus get off work? You know what, it doesn't matter. I’ll leave now with Adira. Where do you want Morris to meet you?”

“My house please. We need to get the fuck out of here before we’re caught. Thanks, man,” I say, knowing not to say more. Any conversation about owing him one will get me smacked by Adira.

“No worries. I’ll text you when I have Linus and Quinn,” Jed says, hanging up without fanfare.

“Get up, Ayla,” I say, pocketing my phone as I stand. I know I sound harsh, but this was the last thing I thought she’d do.

Or maybe it explains my feelings of dread perfectly.

“Time to go,” Duncan says, helping her up. “Quick trip to the bathroom to wash your face and then we’re getting out of here. No time to take anything. Understood?”

He’s already escorting her to the bathroom as she tries to process what’s happening. That’s not our problem, we need to get out of here before her husband catches us. Fuck, that sounded terrible. It doesn’t make it any less true.

Duncan stands just inside the door as Ayla washes her face and rinses her mouth out with what looks like a mouthwash. Rolling my eyes at myself as I see puke staining her shirt, I find my feet moving in the direction of her room. Hudson and Ayla don’t sleep in the same space, and it’s been like that since we were kids.

Her room is on the bottom floor, so I walk quickly inside to grab her a change of shirt. Spread across the bed are papers, piquing my interest. Finding a bag open with clothing, I pick it up and add the papers to it, zipping it closed. I lied, we’ll take whatever is in here.

Snagging a shirt from the half open dresser, I can see that she was in a hurry. She planned to leave, so why the damn pills? I don’t understand.

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