Page 85 of Pack Baines

“What? What do you mean?” he asks, placing the book down after tucking a bookmark between the appropriate pages.

“She called. Said something about a crash, saidit was them, and called for help. She isn’t talking and I don’t know where she is, but she sounded hurt, Ley. We need to find her,” I rush to explain, right before I leave his room in search ofthe others.

I find them all congregated near the front door, each of them wearing matching expressions of dread, agitation and horror, all things I’m feeling very strongly.

Creek is the first to speak, Evron looking sick to his stomach while Geo scowls and wrings his hands awkwardly. “Something’s wrong. There’s something wrong with Juno. We felt her fear, and it only stopped a few seconds ago.”

“Car crash,” I tell them bluntly, bypassing them all to find a pair of shoes and my keys. “She called me and said there was a crash, but she’s gone quiet. If it was bad, she’s likely passed out, so I don’t know how hurt she is. But we need to find her. She said something like itbeing them. I don’t know who they are, but she was scared and in pain, I could hear it in her voice just like I did when we were kids.”

They all nod before running into action, each of them stuffing their feet into whatever shoes they can find. Just as I find my keys on the coffee table, Leylan comes rushing in and asks for my phone. “Here, she has an app on her phone I made her download after the first time she saw that creep who knew her name. If her phone is still working, then we can track it and find her faster.”

Nodding, I watch as my twin downloads an app to my phone and puts his details into the login section. The app comes to life the moment he’s done, and it takes very little time to find Juniper’s picture on the tiny map that spans the whole screen.

“There. She’s there. Come on, let’s go,” he says, handing my cell over before snatching my keys from my hand.

We’re all following closely after him as Leylan runs to his car, taking the driver’s side while I claim the passenger’s side. The others clamber into the back, a tight squeeze, but they don’t once complain. There’s too much to worry about without adding a cramped space to the equation.

In a very un-Leylan-like move, he puts his foot down and demands, “Give me directions.”

So, I do, telling him where to turn and when, clinging to the ‘oh-shit’ handle when he takes a turn too sharply. It takes less thanfive minutes before we’re skidding to a stop at a crash between a truck that doesn’t belong to Juniper, and a couple of cars.

Pace stands outside of his truck, nodding to a police officer while he clutches his arm to his stomach, his shoulder looking a little out of place. There’s a bandage on his head, dry blood on his jaw, and there’s a severity to his face that sets my teeth on edge.

Diving out of the car before Leylan has come to a full stop, I sprint over to Pace just as the police officer tucks his notepad away and rushes to his patrol car, yelling, “Where is she?”

Pace looks over, guilt and agony painted over his features. “They fucking hit her, man. They ran her off the road. The truck went tumbling down the banking over there.”

Pace points in the direction where there’s debris and glass shards, a broken rail painted with the horrible color of Juniper’s old truck, and skid marks stained across the concrete road.

“I tried to stop it, man. I really did. But there was another car and it blocked me before I could get between Juno and the fucker that ran her over. The other car sent me into the other lane and I got hit by two oncoming cars. She was gone by the time I managed to get the fucking door unstuck enough to chase after her,” he explains quickly, voice strained like his throat is tight with emotion. His eyes look haunted, eyes filled with despair, and I know he’s kicking himself over the whole fucking thing as it is.

“Are the cops looking for her truck?” I rush out, gaze darting back in the direction she veered off.

Pace nods and winces, his shoulder moving awkwardly, likely a dislocation. “That officer over there is calling for backup. Too much shit happened for just one cop.”

Biting my lip, a sense of urgency boiling me from the inside out, I nod only once before telling him, “I’m going to look for her. Let the police know.”

Pace nods rapidly in understanding, so I leave him the honor of talking to the cops, running to Leylan’s car. All of my packmates have crowded in front of the car, questioning looks on each of theirfaces, so I quickly explain what happened, pointing in the direction where Juno’s truck disappeared. “She’s down there. Or, her truck will be. If we find her truck, we’ll find Juno.”

They all nod, Creek muttering, “Let’s go find our girl.”

So, as a unit, we all rush toward the banking that slopes steeply, taking cautious, but quick, steps until we’re almost sliding down the whole thing when the mud bests us.

It doesn’t take long to find Juno’s truck, the metal monstrosity wrapped around a thick, tall tree. The windows are all busted, the doors all dented to fuck, and smoke billows from beneath the hood.

“Juno?” Evron shouts, slipping and sliding toward the truck in his haste to reach the truck. “Sweetheart?”

We all follow suit, scrambling around until we’re surrounding the truck. The driver’s side door is already wrenched open, so I peer inside the cabin and curse. “She’s not here. Fuck. Where the hell could she be?”

Just as I pose the question, a hair-raising scream echoes through the forest, bouncing off the trees and sinks beneath my flesh and to my bones. Worse is just as the scream sounds out, it’s cut off abruptly, setting off my anxiety and terror until it’s all I can think of, because there isn’t a single doubt in my mind that the scream belongs to my omega.

“Fuck!” I spit, right before my feet start moving, my mind catching up straight after I find myself bolting through the forest in search of my omega.

A stampede of footsteps follow after me, shouts of Juno’s name reverberating all around us, but I don’t slow down. There’s one thing on my mind, and one thing only, and that’s getting to Juniper as fast as I can possibly carry myself.

Just as panic begins to override every rational thought in my mind, when I begin to wonder if I’m even running in the right fucking direction, we break through an opening of trees, skidding toa stop when we almost stumble right into the lake that runs the length of the road Juniper drove off.

And there, right on the bank of the lake, sunken to her knees in the wet mud, is my omega. Her hair is clutched in the hands of a dead man as he yanks her head from the water, her pained gasps for air and chokes on water breaking my heart and fueling an atom-deep fury within me.

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