I pocketed the phone and forced a calm I didn’t feel. “I better get going.”
Parker nodded, reading the situation perfectly. “Tell her I said hi.”
On the drive over, I had a death grip on the wheel. Every few seconds, I checked my phone in its dash cradle, waiting for Brie to reply with something that made sense. She didn’t. The mate bond still vibrated in my head, a tuning fork stuck on anxious. My pulse wouldn’t slow.
Ten miles out from Dairyville, my phone buzzed. Not a text, but a call. Bronc’s name flashed on the screen, all-caps, no bullshit. I considered letting it roll to voicemail. But he’d know I saw it. And you didn’t ghost the Alpha, not unless you wanted him at your front door with coffee and an awkward lecture about pack accountability.
I thumbed the speaker button, kept my eyes on the long, empty road. “Hey, Bronc.”
He was in full leader mode, not wasting time. “You okay, Gunner? You been quiet since that little talk we had.”
I grinned tight. “Just working. Brie’s gallery opening is in a few days. She’s running on caffeine and fumes. I’m wrangling cattle and playing support.”
“Hell of a support job, son. I heard about the incident with the scaffold.” Bronc’s voice was like old whiskey—burned on the way down, but left you warmer for it. “I’m glad she’s okay.”
“Yeah.” I let the word linger, the way you did when there was something else underneath.
Bronc wasn’t fooled. “You wanna tell me what’s eating you?”
I flexed my hands on the wheel, watched the town’s water tower loom up through the drizzle. “Brie’s been having nightmares. Bad ones. Couple nights ago it got damn bad.”
“Post-trauma?” he asked.
I hesitated. “Don’t know. At first, I thought it was just nerves. But it’s more than that now. I can feel her fear through the bond.” I left out the metallic smell. That part sounded crazy even to me.
Bronc was quiet for a beat. “She ever had nightmares before?”
“Not that I’m aware. The damnedest fucking thing is that she can’t remember anything about them after she’s awake. Which based on how she wakes up screaming and thrashing like hell itself is on her tail; I guess it’s a good thing.”
“Shit.” He exhaled slow. “Listen. Opening night, there’ll be a dozen of us in the crowd, not to mention extra security. Even Menace and Savannah are flying down for it. You got a full-court press on your side. And if it gets out of hand, you call me or Juliet. We’ll sort it out.”
I bit my cheek. “Juliet’s coming? Even this closeto…?”
He snorted. “She’s seven months pregnant, Finn. Not dead. She bought some kind of fancy sequined maternity evening gown. And I’ll be dressed up like a dignified Alpha. You gonna let me outshine you?”
I laughed finally. “Maybe I’ll find a bolo tie and make you look underdressed.”
“Now you’re talking.” He paused, the mood lightening. “You and Brie need anything, you call. Day or night.”
I meant to say thanks. Instead I blurted, “Bronc?”
“Yeah?”
“Did this happen to you? I mean the mate bond going off like a fire alarm?”
Bronc didn’t answer right away. “When she disappeared last year. After I got her back and re-established our bond, one night she came up missing.” He paused as though the memory had assaulted him. “She’d wandered out into the woods behind the house. She was still so fucking traumatized she got turned around and had no idea where she was. I felt her fear like a bolt of lightning through the bond and took off, letting that feeling guide me.” He gave a small laugh. “She wasn’t far from the house, but I’d never been so goddamn glad to see anyone when I saw her small frame sitting on a log bawling her eyes out. If you’re feeling Brie’s anxiety, it’s because she needs you; and you’ll be there for her too.”
That hit deep, the way good advice does.
We hung up with a promise to see each other at the opening, and I turned onto Main. The gallery was the only building for three blocks lit up like a UFO landing. The entire town was dark—power outages were common in Dairyville when the rain got biblical—but Brie wisely had a backup generator installed just in case, and the place blazed with every bulb on the circuit.
I parked half on the curb and jogged to the front door. I used my key and opened the door. Inside, the warmth and light were almost enough to make me forget why I’d rushed over.
Almost.
Brie stood in the entryway, arms crossed over her chest, pacing a rut into the rain-protected hardwoods. Her eyes were red-rimmed, mascara smudged from earlier tears. The minute she saw me, she ran straight into my arms, burrowing her face in my chest.
“Hey, hey,” I murmured. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
