Page 17 of Chasing Secrets
“You should try one,” Jalen said, taking another bite of his sandwich. Marshmallow and peanut butter squished out the sides, and he closed his eyes in bliss.
“Maybe later,” Chase said, moving to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. He placed it in front of Jalen. “Drink this. You’ll thank me later.”
Jalen accepted the water with exaggerated gratitude. “You’re so thoughtful. Has anyone ever told you that? So thoughtful. And tall. Really tall.”
Chase leaned against the counter, watching as Jalen attempted to lick marshmallow from his own nose, failing spectacularly.
“Anyone seen Zeppelin?” Preston asked, clearly trying to change the subject.
“He’s on his way back,” Chase said. “There was a situation at the bakery.”
“What kind of situation?” Quinn asked, immediately alert.
“Vaughn’s missing,” Chase said simply. “We think demons might be involved.”
That sobered the room quickly. Even Jalen seemed to sense the shift in atmosphere, his smile dimming as he looked between their faces.
“Demons?” he repeated, blinking slowly. “Like... actual demons? With horns and pitchforks and stuff?”
“Not exactly,” Chase replied, watching as Jalen’s sandwich tilted precariously in his hand. “It’s complicated.”
“Everything’s complicated,” Jalen muttered, taking another bite. Peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth, making his next words even more garbled. “Vampires, wolves, demons. What’s next? Unicorns?”
“No unicorns,” Quinn said with a smirk. “They went extinct in the 1700s.”
Preston snorted. “And here I thought they were assholes who spread glitter everywhere.”
Jalen giggled, took another bite of his sandwich, and moaned in a way that should’ve been illegal.
Preston just blinked at him. “Dude, whatever you’re on, if it makes food that good, you need to share,” he teased. “I’m just kidding. Cinnamon rolls are my downfall.”
“I thought it was fruit,” Quinn said.
Chase watched his mate stand. Jalen tried to shove his hand into his front pocket, with difficulty. Not because his jeans were tight but because he was trying to jam his fist into it.
“Maybe after your sandwich you should go sleep it off, buddy.” Preston grinned.
Chase planned on taking his mate upstairs. First, he’d have to wash Jalen’s face then put him under the covers to let him snooze for however long he needed.
“There!” Jalen slammed his hand down on the table, the sound echoing in the otherwise quiet kitchen. He sat back down, eating the last of the oozing concoction.
“What in the hell are those?” Chase gestured toward the table with a low growl. He’d thought Jalen had simply smoked some weed, but he’d been wrong.
Quinn leaned forward, brows furrowed.
“Looks like pills to me.” Preston stood, taking his empty glass to the sink.
Just like any small town—especially one as isolated as Crimson Hollow—had its fair share of other drugs. The pack shut down any small-time operation that dealt with the heavier stuff, but it was like playing whack-a-mole.
Shut one down and another instantly popped up to take its place.
Had Jalen bought them off a dealer, or were they a legit prescription?
“What are those, Jalen?” Chase asked a little more firmly.
“Come on, Preston.” Quinn joined him at the sink to deposit his coffee mug. “Let’s go find your mate. I think these two need some privacy.”
When they were alone, Jalen twisted in his chair to face Chase, staring defiantly like he dared Chase to say a single word.
