Page 81 of Fae Devoted
“Stupid, stupid…Jacob, it’s me.”
Jeremiah turned off the main drag. “Son of a monkey!”
Her leg bounced as she waited for the car in front of her to make the left turn, the phone pressed against the steering wheel. “I found Jeremiah. Call me asap.”
She disconnected and ran a yellow light, exhaling in relief when she spotted his SUV a block ahead. Trembling, she punched in Samuel’s number. No answer.
Hitting end, Johnnie glanced at the digital clock. 10:07 a.m. Her clanmates would still be locked up with Remington and his people, the discussions and strategy sessions going from late evening to at least noon each day.
Afraid of losing Jeremiah but not wanting to get caught either, she kept at a discreet distance and alternated betweencalling Jacob and her Alpha. She hoped one of the two males would look at their phone sometime during the meeting and be alarmed by the number of missed messages. Or that Jacob would open the bond and feel her panic, feel her leaving the city limits.
Her male was trying so hard to respect her request for the equivalent of what would be categorized as space in human terms. He hadn’t reopened the bond once in three days. But Ferwyn males didn’t cope well with separation from their mates, let alone emotional isolation. Johnnie hoped three days was Jacob’s limit, and he’d give into the temptation to take a tiny peek.
Who else can I try? Who else?
Even if by some miracle Lady Rose and Ethan weren’t in the same room with the others, she didn’t have their contact numbers.
Who else can I trust?
Clutching her iPhone, she followed Jeremiah south onto the interstate and updated Jacob’s voicemail with her current location. She considered calling Dylan but discarded the idea. The furious shifter had been waiting in Remington’s lobby when she’d left the meeting emotionally depleted and in desperate need of a shower. In absolutely zero mood to apologize for defiling his precious Jeep or any other crimes againstalphamaledomhe decided Johnnie committed, she sent him home. The cabin was too far away for him to be of any immediate help, and Dylan was too low in Clan rank to interrupt his príoh king when in private talks with a queen. But the local Guard might be persuaded to barge in if she invented a good enough excuse. Andifshe had their number, which she didn’t.
Johnnie pressed the side button on her phone. “Call the Sault Ste. Marie Guard.”
I don’t see Sue Marie’s Garden in your contacts. Who would you like to call?
“Call the Soo Saint Mah Ree Guard.”
I found four places. Tap the one you want to call.
Glaring at the unrelated choices, Johnnie growled in frustration and tried again. The Australian male’s accent she once thought divine was getting on her last nerve.
“Call the Soo Se Aint Mah Ree Guh Ard.”
I don’t see Sue’s mom’s car in your contacts. Who would you like to call?
“Are you serious?”
Yes. I’m not allowed to be frivolous.
Johnnie burst out laughing, the situation ridiculous, then sobered as Jeremiah exited the freeway.
“Call Jacob.” Please call Jacob.
Calling Jacob.
Blowing out a breath, she waited for the clippedTuckerand left another voicemail. Next, she attempted to manually google the Guard’s number…and ran off the road.
“Oh shit!” The outside tires hit gravel, and she overcompensated, swerving the truck into oncoming traffic. She jerked back into her lane with a death-grip on the wheel, heart beating out of her chest. It took several minutes for her breathing and pulse to normalize enough that she could reach for her dropped phone without her hands shaking. Eyes wide and looking straight ahead, she felt around the floorboard and came up empty. It must have slid under the driver’s seat.
“Great, fantastic, now what?” She reduced her speed to widen the distance between her truck and Jeremiah’s, afraid he might have noticed her road gymnastics. Jacob’s big black pickup wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.
Squeezing the wheel so tightly her hands ached, she contemplated her options.
Give up and turn around.
Risk losing Jeremiah to pull over, reclaim her phone, and hope to catch up while trying to get ahold of…somebody.
Or…continue to follow him to determine his destination and then return to town with no fuss, no muss, and no physical engagement.
