Page 5 of Jesse
My hand hovered over a bag of frozen peas when something caught my eye.
A hand.
My breath caught. A hand, pale and rigid, was sticking out from under the frozen packs.
The freezer door slammed shut as I stumbled back, my knees threatening to give out. This couldn’t be real. I didn’t just see that. It had to be some trick of the light, right?
I forced myself to look away, my breath coming in sharp bursts.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head as if I could make it all disappear. “No, no, no.”
A groan from Preston snapped me out of it. His eyelids fluttered and his breathing grew shallow, like he was fading fast.
My hands were shaking as I grabbed my phone from my pocket and fumbled to dial the number.
“Jackson,” I said as soon as he picked up, my voice barely holding steady. “Help.”
Chapter 2
Jesse
I tossedanother fry into my mouth, savoring the crispy, golden perfection as I strolled back toward the Brisket Delight food truck like I hadn’t just committed mild sabotage.
Okay, maybe telling the customers behind me in the queue that the other truck’s brisket was dry was a little much.
It wasn’t even that dry, to be honest. Just… lacking soul. And flavor. And everything else that made brisket sing.
If that truck was serving that brisket in the food truck competition, I didn’t have anything to worry about.
Colton raised an eyebrow as I leaned one hip against the counter, eyeing my half-finished basket of fries like he was seconds from stealing a handful.
He didn’t even try to be subtle.
He reached over and grabbed the receipt I was holding. His eyes flicked to the name at the top.
“Who’s Jay?” he asked.
I grinned and popped the last fry into my mouth. “Me. Just checking out what the competition’s selling.”
Colton’s expression didn’t shift, but I felt the judgment radiating off him like heat from a grill.
He was still wearing that stupid ‘I’m responsible now’ face that had gotten worse ever since he and Remy mated. Weren’t newly bonded wolves supposed to be chill?
Colton crossed his arms. “I hope you’re not stirring up any trouble.”
I held up both hands innocently. “Of course not. You should try these fries, cousin. Best part of the day.”
Before he could launch into his usual lecture about how important this festival was for the Briggs brand, about not alienating potential customers, about blah blah Jesse, take things seriously for once in your life—I spotted a familiar figure charging through the crowd.
Familiar and pissed.
Ah, hell.
I ducked.
“What are you doing now?” Colton asked, already sounding exasperated.
“If anyone asks for me, tell them I’m not here,” I muttered, crouching behind the fryer station.
