Page 71 of Pack Baines

“Juniper?” the man clutching me in place asks, voice firm but soft enough that I’m not sent running with a scream of terror.

My head raises and a pair of honey-gold eyes peer down at me, pretty eyes filled with worry, his eyebrows drawn down in afrown. Coffee-colored hair sits atop his head, a faux mohawk styled messily but stylishly, and there are a couple of scents that cling to his clothes that I instantly recognize. It’s those scents that relax me, and my voice comes out strained and panicked when I finally manage to rasp, “Pace?”

“Yeah, hon. Are you okay? What the hell happened there?” the fifth member and alpha of Munro’s pack asks, rubbing his hands up and down my arms as I continue to shiver, those warm eyes watching me like he’s just caught a terrified kitten being chased by a rabid dog.

Clearing my throat and gripping the guy I’ve only just met around the wrists, I damn near wheeze, “I’m pretty sure there’s someone following me. Back there, between the trees near the building with the large bay windows.”

Pace Larsen peers over my shoulder, keeping his hold on me much to my relief, because there is no doubt in my mind that I would simply collapse if he let me go. I watch his face as those pretty eyes darken, his entire face changing from warm and comforting to intimidating and dangerous so fast that I almost get whiplash. “I see him. Come on, let’s get you out of here. Now.”

I nod, my heart rate picking up a rapid pace that makes me dizzy and light headed. It’s why I let the guy lead me to my truck, holding his hand out for the keys that I willingly hand over, trusting the man as much as I trust Munro, Aero, Haze, and Rage.

With very little effort, Pace gets me in the truck and climbs into the driver’s side, asking, “Where to?”

“Gabby’s,” I answer instantly, knowing that’s where the guys will expect to find me, even if a single text could get them to meet me at home. Pretty sure I’m shaking too much to actually pull my cellphone out of my pocket again, so Pace simply nods and drives us to the diner without uttering a word.

By the time we pull up outside of the diner, my heart no longer feels like it’s about to burst free of my ribcage, but my nerves are absolutely shot to shit and my mind is reeling a mile a minute.

Larsen turns the truck off and turns to face me, a seriousness that is vastly different to the guys’ expression painted over his face, and he asks, “Do you know who that was back there?”

I shake my head.

“Seen him before?”

I’m shaking my head once more, lost for words and trying to calm my mind enough to think straight.

“Do you think you’re up to working tonight? Because, let me tell you hon, you look shaken up worse than a cola bottle after it’s been dropped on the floor,” he tells me, and I snort in surprise at the analogy.

“I have no idea what the hell I should be doing right now. My brain resembles a scrambled egg, I can’t stop shaking, and I need to text my pack,” I blurt in a hurry, words almost blending together until it’s almost impossible to decipher the words I’m spitting.

Pace nods, smiling slightly as if to soothe me, and it strangely works much like a smile from the rest of his pack would. I don’t feel so on edge, and I appreciate the vibes he’s emanating and the gut feeling I have about the guy is enough that I can breathe a little easier around him. “Alright, then let’s call your pack first, and get you inside second. I’ll call the police when we’re inside, and I’ll stay with you until your shift ends and drive you home.”

I’m nodding, already scooping my cell out of my pocket, when I explain, “The guys are meeting me here, but I really appreciate you stepping in like you did.”

“Of course. Pretty sure Munro would kill me if I let his unbiological twin come into harm's way, anyways,” he jokes, lips twitching and making a dent in the serious expression Pace has worn since leaving the school grounds.

“That checks out,” I choke out with a slightly haggard laugh, feeling strung out and wired all at once.

Revealing a warm smile, Pace pats my knee and says, “Come on. Let’s get you inside and we can get the ball rolling on the phone calls and such.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” I agree, taking a deep, steady breath before climbing out of the car before following after the alpha into the diner.

The moment Gabby sees me, all movement stops, and her mama face is plastered over her face faster than it takes to blink. She points at me with a notepad, pen tucked behind her ear where her copper hair curls around it, and demands, “You, sit right there before you fall over with a gust of wind. I’ll get you a hot chocolate and you can tell me what put the fear of Gods in those eyes and why there’s a handsome man I’ve never seen before escorting you to work.”

So, without any fuss, complaints, or objection, I go about doing exactly as I’m told. And the whole time, Pace sits beside me, helping me fill in the blanks and offering support like any close friend would.

Chapter 27

Leylan

I damn near take the door off its hinges as I burst into the diner, frantic eyes scanning for my omega before I’ve even stepped a full foot inside. After receiving a phone call from Creek explaining what happened, I decided there were enough bodies in the lab to clean up after the mess another student made. I didn’t even stop to shower, the scent of flowers clinging to me so strongly that it gives me a headache. All I could think of was getting to Juniper as soon as I could, the need to check for myself that she really was okay overriding any other rational thought I might have conjured.

Juniper sits beside a guy I recognize, a cup of hot liquid steaming between her small fingers, her face turned toward the doorway as the bell rings to announce my arrival.

“Leylan,” she breathes in a painfully relieved sigh, causing my chest to ache at the sound.

I’m moving toward her before I can fully comprehend the action, my arms banding tightly around her still trembling body, tucking her as close as I can get her to my chest. Her scent tickles my nose, piña colada infected with the sour notes of stress and anxiety, and I press a kiss to the top of her head and keep my lips pressed to her for a long moment.

“I’m okay, Ley. I’m alright,” she breathes, releasing a hand from her cup in order to wrap it around my bicep banded around her chest like a seatbelt.