“Tell me you’re not wandering the streets again, Archer.”
I don’t answer Torin’s question. He’d know I was lying about doing something I’ve spent the better part of two weeks doing on a near-daily basis. Not that he’s any better, but I’m worse.
Torin and Callum didn’t treat Juniper the way I did.
When I close my eyes, I remember practically threatening that if she left, someone would hurt her. And I remember how, when I saw the gardener with lust in his eyes, I dragged her intothe house, fucked her against a bookcase, and left her on the floor.
I lied.
I knowexactlywhy I stopped in the middle of the road. If I don’t keep my mind occupied, it yanks me back to the unforgivable things I did to my mate, and I relive it over and fucking over again, hating myself more each time.
A cop car shrieks as it speeds down the late afternoon downtown streets, the sound giving Torin all the proof he would ever need about what I’m doing and where I’m doing it.
Torin lets out a heavy sigh. “Juniper doesn’twantto be found.”
Iknowthat. Why doesn’t he think I know that?
It’s been two weeks since we bribed a hospital porter into confirming that Juniper checked herself out of the hospital.
Two tireless weeks of prowling every goddamn street in the city. Two weeks of sticking my head into restaurants and coffee shops, of asking heat clinics if they’ve seen her, and all of it has amounted to absolutely fucking jack shit.
I’ve barely slept. There’s an itch inside of me that’s driving me crazy and has been since Juniper Harrington cut herself out of our lives.
I need to know that we didn’t chase her out of our lives with our cruelty, only to die on the streets. I need to know that she’s okay.
“She could be hurt.” I glance inside a woman’s hair salon as I pass the open door, the smell of perfume and hair products making my eyes water.
Redheads, brunettes, but no…is that her?My steps slow as my gaze lingers on a woman with blonde hair until she glances my way. Not Juniper.
I keep walking.
“Yes,” Torin says a little quieter, “she could.”
Juniper is a sheltered omega. She went from her house to Haven Academy, then to us, where we treated her so badly that she could be in an alley somewhere, determined to die in it alone instead of asking for help because she wants nothing to do with us.
“We have to fix this. We have to…” My fingers clench around my cell phone.
There are no words left to say.
No apology will come close to being good enough, but we have to try.
Wehaveto make things right.
“I have to go.” I hang up before Torin can push me to go back to the house. He’ll remind me I’m wasting my time. Then he’ll say he’s going up to bed, and the next thing, I’ll hear his car starting up outside, and I know he’s out driving aimlessly, hoping to find her, just like Callum and me.
We don’t talk about what we did, how we made her feel. Talking about the unforgivable hurts too much, so we spend all our days and our nights out searching for a girl who doesn’t want to be found.
My gaze snags on a coffee shop, and I hesitate when the scent of sweet vanilla and hazelnut drifts toward me. My stomach grumbles, and my mouth is dry.
Muffling a yawn, I glance up at the darkening sky. Late-afternoon means it’s time to head back soon, but I’m not tired enough to end my search just yet.
I push open the coffee shop door, nodding a greeting at the male server as I walk in, and scan the blackboard over his head. Breakfast—the last time I ate—was hours ago, but none of the sandwiches appeals to me.
“Just a large black coffee.”
“We have latte or?—”
“I’m good,” I cut in. “Two… uh, make that three shots. That’s it.” Just something hot and strong enough to keep me on my feet for the next couple of hours.
