Silently, I make her a promise.
Just hold on, sweetheart. Just a few minutes longer.
I hit the button for the eighth floor. Adrenaline licks at my spine as I move in the direction of the pharmacy. I lean against the wall by the bathrooms, fiddling with my phone. My white coat affords me a few smiles as staff walk past, but all I can manage is a grimace. Checking the time on my phone, I wait.
Every day, at 12.15, the pharmacist goes on break.
It’s a little habit I’ve picked up from my lunchtime walks.
Bang on 12.15, the door swings open and the short, stocky pharmacist exits. He glances at me, and down to my coat, before he moves past me with a nod.
I wait for him to turn the corner before I move.
I walk into his pharmacy, not bothering to hide my identity. Scanning the cupboards packed full with medication, I look for Leah’s insulin first. Spotting it, I pull the bag open and sweep the contents in, leaving two packs behind. I follow it up with a few other medications we might need, listening out in case the pharmacist comes back earlier than he usually does. All the while, Ava’s screams ring inside my ears.
Gritting my teeth and pulling the duffel bag closed, I listen at the door for anyone walking past and ease myself out. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I head down the corridor and open the door to the stairwell, jogging down concrete flights of steps until I hit the bustle of the ground floor reception area.
I don’t bother signing out – I won’t be coming back. Instead, I move away from the main doors and head towards a corridor reaching off the main room. Checking the time, I curse and pick up the pace. I’ve only got a few minutes.
Reaching the set of double exit doors, I push one open slowly and check down the narrow alleyway.
A set of vehicle lights flash back at me and a large ambulance with blacked-out windows rolls down the alley, coming to a stop as I go for the rear doors. Before I can get them open, they swing out and a hand pulls me into the interior.
ChapterSixteen
Lucien
“Fuck, I missed you,” I push the words out past the lump in my throat as I wrap my arms around Max. His familiar apple pie scent wraps around me and I take a second to just breathe him in.
He holds onto me just as tightly. “Same, Luc.” He sounds a little choked, and we both clear our throats as we break apart.
“Cute,” A deep voice drawls from the front. “You gonna get it on back there? We don’t have long, so make it quick.”
Max’s hackles rise at the unfamiliar alpha and I shake my head. “Ignore him.”
Devlin Winter snorts. We’ve been in this ambulance for four hours now, and the one thing I can say without question is that this guy still embraces sarcasm as an art form.
Max eyes the hand that snakes between the seats before shaking it once. “Max,” he says gruffly.
“Devlin.”
* * *
“Devlin, it’s Lucien Grey. I need to talk to you.”
“I’ll call you back.”
The line goes dead, and I stare at the phone in my hand with disbelief.
“That was anticlimactic,” Bastien runs his hand over his hair in frustration. We’ve been discussing how to approach this for the last few hours. Guess it’ll be a few more.
We settle in to wait, but it only takes a few minutes for the screen to light up in my hand.
“Sorry.” The voice is marginally warmer, but not exactly what I’d call friendly. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you, Luc. Thought you’d moved away.”
“We need your help.” I don’t waste any time, and he barks a half-surprised laugh in my ear.
“Mine? How exactly do you think I can help you?”
