Gillian awakened early that morning from a bad dream with a nasty feeling tugging at her gut. Grabbing her phone from where it lay charging on her nightstand, mixed emotions hit her when she realized she didn’t have any calls or texts from Peyton.
Goddammit.
She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, fitfully dozing but waking at every slight noise.
Finally, she gave up around four a.m. and sat up. The baby was still sound asleep in her bassinet. Gillian stared at the empty space next to her in the bed, her hand coming to rest on his pillow.
Pulling it into her arms, she buried her face in it and deeply inhaled Peyton’s scent.
Why should I feel guilty for being angry with him for leaving?
It wasn’t the first and wouldn’t be the last time their personal lives took a backseat to pressing pack business, but this was by far the worst incident.
She grabbed her phone and, before she lost her nerve, shot off another angry text to Peyton.
I hope you realize how pissed off I am at you. This is total bullshit and you know it. You crawl up Dewi’s ass over working too hard, and your FIRST CHILD WAS JUST BORN and you fly off to Europe. We will have a serious talk when you get home about realigning your priorities. It’s not your little sister with the issue—it’s YOU.
Send.
It didn’t make her feel better to send it, but at least it helped release some of the mental pressure building inside her.
Deciding to let the baby sleep, she pulled on her bathrobe and padded out to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Ken wasn’t even there yet it was so early.
As she waited for the pot to brew, she leaned against the counter and stared at Peyton’s mug where it sat in its usual place. On the oversized ceramic mug that held about three cups of coffee was a cartoon wolf with its tongue hanging out and the words LEAD DOG emblazoned in neon pink letters.
Dewi bought it for him when she was eleven, the last Christmas she lived in Idaho before moving to Florida.
He used it every day.
Normally.
Through the kitchen window, movement caught her eye, and she spotted Ken exiting their cabin and heading across the backyard to the kitchen door.
“Oh, good morning,” he said when he spotted her there as he set his laptop case on the counter. “You’re up early.”
“I got you a mug out already.”
“Thanks,” he said. “The baby wake you up?”
“No. Have you heard from Peyton lately?” One of the bad things about being the wife and mate of the Pack Alpha was knowing there were only a few people she could vent to about certain personal…issues. Because she didn’t want her husband bad-mouthed around the pack, or to show any hint of weakness.
Ken, however, was family, as well as deep within the inner circle of pack leadership. Although most people didn’t know that last fact about him.
He smirked but it looked playful, not obnoxious. “Still giving him the silent treatment?”
“Tell me the truth—am I wrong to feel upset?”
“Not at all. I know he felt badly he had to leave, if that’s any consolation. He told me as much.”
She poured herself a mug of coffee. “Not to put you in the middle of our bullshit, and I won’t blame you or get upset if you say no, but would you mind texting him for me and checking on him?”
“I can do that.” She sipped her coffee while he pulled his phone from his back pocket and fired off a text. “I’ll let you know as soon as he gets back to me. But from what I understand, the area they’re searching is pretty remote. Wouldn’t surprise me if they lose cell signal.”
“Thanks.”
“I wouldn’t worry. He did tell me he might be out of contact for several days. Besides, we would’ve heard long before now if there was something to worry about.”
“True.” Although that didn’t feel…right. Not in this case.
