Page 42 of All That We Keep
I understand trying to get us to safety but he’s hurt and someone should look at his wounds.
Worse than that, the pain that keeps rolling through my stomach isn’t normal. I’ve read up enough to know that they’re contractions but they’re getting closer together. They're not regular yet, but they're definitely there, a tightening sensation that makes me catch my breath and worry about the babies.
I don’t have another week or even days. At this point, I might havehours.
I also just don’t really know what's going on or why we're being kept in this sterile little room instead of being allowed to go home. Hudson broke in but he’s not working with anyone other than the buyer. We all know that. The house is probably the safest place for me now that Hudson is kind of… incapacitated.
The door opens, and Ward steps inside with an expression of concern that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "I am so sorry about all of that," he says, settling into the chair across from us. "We've been looking for Hudson for a while and haven't been able to find him. I heard some officers brought him in and then let him slip right through their fingers again. To know that he's been lurking around your house, that's unacceptable."
His concern seems fake but I refrain from calling him out. "I tried to call the police when it was happening," I tell him, studying his face for any sign of deception.
"And I'm glad you did," Ward replies, "because I'm not sure what would have happened if it had gone on any longer."
But something about his response doesn't sit right with me. "My Alpha had it handled though. Hudson was unconscious when you arrived, and I didn't actually get through to anyone. You guys just showed up."
Grayson straightens beside me, his brows furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean you didn't call him?"
"I tried, but I couldn't get through," I explain. "It was like somebody jammed the phone lines or blocked access orsomething. I couldn't even use my cell phone. The landline was completely dead, and my cell had no service at all."
Ward's expression doesn't change, but something flickers behind his eyes. "I'm guessing something got through somehow, because that's how I knew to show up. However, we're currently assessing the situation and trying to figure out how Hudson knew where you were located, as well as how he got out of custody. Whoever was in charge of detaining him will be dealt with."
He launches into a detailed explanation about jurisdictional issues and problems with the other county's handling of Hudson's case, his voice taking on that official tone that police officers use when they want to sound authoritative and reassuring. But the more he talks, the less convinced I become that any of this is legitimate.
"The other county was supposed to take care of this, and we're really sorry about the breakdown in communication," Ward continues. "There was also an issue with the protective order that we're still trying to sort out."
"I just don't understand why all these issues are coming up almost a month after we were told that everything was wrapped up," I say, my frustration bleeding into my voice. "We were supposed to be safe. We were supposed to be done with all of this."
"I can't tell you everything because I only have so much reach within the system," Ward says with what sounds like practiced regret. He folds his hands onto the table, a smile spreading across his lips but it feels as fake as his words. "However, I do know that we're doing everything we can to make sure this doesn't happen again."
"That just sounds like more empty promises," I snap back at him, my protective instincts flaring as another contractiontightens across my belly. "I'm about to have these babies, and I want to know that they're coming into a safe world."
Ward's expression grows more serious. "I'm doing what I can. I'll be right back - I need to get some paperwork for you to fill out. But don't worry, I've got you covered."
As he leaves the room, something about his parting words sends a chill down my spine. There was something possessive in his tone, something that reminded me uncomfortably of how Hudson used to talk about having control over situations.
My phone vibrates against my leg, and I pull it out to see Maceo's name on the screen. Several missed calls sit in my notification as relief floods through me and I answer immediately. "Hi," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Where the fuck are you?" Maceo's voice comes through the earpiece.
A flood of my other mates’ emotions hits me all at once but I don’t know why they would be on edge like that. "We're at the police station," I tell him. "Hudson got into the house, but Grayson fought him off. Ward brought us here afterward."
"Which police station? Who else is there?" The questions come rapid-fire, and I can hear the sound of a car engine in the background.
"Well, Ward brought us in. I think we're at the main downtown station, but I'm not entirely sure. Why? What's wrong?"
"You need to get the fuck out of there," Maceo says, his voice carrying an edge of desperation I've never heard before. "Ward is the buyer, or at least one of the main donors to Hearthstone. He owns the fucking house, Luca."
I struggle to process what he's telling me. "That's not possible. He's been helping us, investigating Hudson and Hearthstone." Even as I say those words, though, I know in some part that I’ve always known Ward was suspicious.
"Luca, listen to me very carefully," Maceo continues, his voice growing more urgent. "I need you to get out of that building right now. Find an exit, get to somewhere public, do whatever you have to do."
"We're in a police station," I protest weakly. "There's no way for us to just leave. We're in an interrogation room, and there are officers everywhere." I look around, only seeing the one entrance and exit to the room that then leads to the main part of the station.
Grayson has been listening to my side of the conversation, his face gone pale as he pieces together what's happening. "Luca said that he didn't call the police but Ward showed up within minutes of me knocking Hudson unconscious."
"Lock the door," Maceo instructs immediately. "Lock it right now. Barricade it with whatever you can find. Do not let Ward get back to you."
Grayson jumps up and turns the lock on the interrogation room door, before grabbing one of the metal chairs and wedging it under the handle for extra security. The scraping sound as he positions it makes my heart race even faster.
