Page 16 of Claimed By Two Alphas

Delvin

“What do you mean he’s not outside? Tell me you didn’t let him go out by himself.”

Joshua held up his hands. “He knows to wait for me when he takes his break. Misty said she saw him head for the door but wasn’t sure she saw him leave.”

“Get on the phone and call Ken and Jack. Tell them to take Casey to Dillon’s. Then tell them to haul ass here. Tell Mikhia to come, too.”

Someone had to stay with the pregnant males. Lucas would kill anyone who came near them. Not that Casey and Dillon were in trouble. They were already pregnant, so Nezat had no interest in them.

But Shane wasn’t. Hell, we weren’t even sure he was our mate, but hell if I was leaving him in Nezat’s hands. That could be the only reason for his disappearance. He wouldn’t have left in the middle of his shift without telling them.

As Joshua made the calls, I went to my office and pulled up the security footage. We had cameras positioned in the interior—not the bathrooms—and a few on the outside. A while back someone had been stabbed in the parking lot. No one knew who had done it, because the tourist who’d been stabbed had died a day later. No witnesses had come forward.

Since then, Joshua and I had installed security cameras, just to cover our asses for liability purposes. I felt bad that someone had died but was glad the family hadn’t sued us because it had happened on our property.

I pulled up the footage for around the time I’d told Shane to go on his break. Twenty minutes later, I saw him head for the door. But he’d paused just inside the restaurant, as if he was waiting for Joshua.

Then John Brooks walked back inside. He grabbed Shane by the arm and yanked him out. I pulled up the exterior camera footage and watched in horror as John shoved Shane into his trunk. Shane had fought like hell, but he was a lot smaller than John. The car reversed and then took off.

I was hoping like hell my instincts were right, because I was pretty certain I knew where John had taken him. What had gotten into John? Why would he take Shane? I had no clue, but I wasn’t going to leave Shane to whatever John had planned.

Turning, I grabbed my gun out of the filing cabinet behind me and stuffed it into the back of my waistband before pulling my shirt over it and walking out of the office. By the time I made it outside, everyone was there.

“John Brooks took him. We’re heading to his airboat business,” I said. “I can’t think of any other place he would take Shane.”

Jack and Ken jumped into their truck. Joshua and I, along with Mikhia, slipped into my Charger then tore from the parking lot. It took under fifteen minutes to reach the cutoff where John’s business was located. Although it was dark out, I could make out the one-story…cabin? Shack? I’d never been out here, so I was a little shocked at the sad state of his business.

The underbrush looked as if it was trying to reclaim the earth. Trees were thick, almost choking the small building between them. If it had been a nice little cabin on the bayou, I could get why John had wanted to live there. It was picturesque, but for a business, it wasn’t the smartest location.

I started to wonder if we were even in the right spot because there was no airboat in sight, but there was a large sign above the door, big yellow letters that were fading with age. Jamboree Airboat Service.

There was also a dim light on inside the place and a rowboat hitched to the dock across the water.

When I slipped out of the car, I stripped down, tossing my clothes onto the driver’s seat. “I’ll shift. The rest of you stay in human form, at least for now. Especially Jack and Ken. I don’t think that little rowboat can handle the weight of a bear, let alone two.”

Everyone agreed.

I shifted, and the scents became a hundred thousand times more potent. I stood on the rickety dock, inhaling deeply. I let out a low growl to tell Joshua that I scented Shane inside that building.

Joshua nodded. “Let’s get him back.”

* * * *

Shane

“He was supposed to be here by now.”

John looked agitated as he paced the small space of the shack. The longer I sat there, the more I noticed, like the mold growing along the walls. The smell wasn’t any better. I’d grown up in Hungry, so the town didn’t stink to me like some tourists claimed it did.

But this place? God, just awful. Like mold and fish and a dead carcass. What was that smell, and where was it coming from? Did John have a dead animal lying around somewhere? I wouldn’t doubt it. I’d thought him a nice guy, just shy. Turned out, he was five cans short of a six pack.

Several times I’d tried to make it to the door, and each time, John had stopped me.

Then the bastard had found some duct tape and bound my wrists behind me and secured my ankles together. With it being so humid, my skin was glistening with sweat. That made working the binding at my wrists a little easier, but not by much.

Whoever had invented duct tape had known what they were doing. They just probably never guessed it would be used for securing people.

And now I’d been shoved all the way back on the stained couch. I would need a year-long hot shower to get that ick off of me.

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