“Shewason something.” The memory crashed into me—her scent changing. The near-misses, the flashes of heat under her skin. The way she started avoiding the locker room, keeping distance, making excuses not to get too close.
Like she was trying tohidefrom us.
From me.
From all of it.
I stopped pacing. “What if that photo? The one with Beckett in the owner’s box? What ifheknew?”
His stare sharpened. “You think he was trying to stake a claim?”
“He was scenting the air near her when we passed him in the hall.” My voice went flat. “I thought he was just being gross.”
Shoulders tense, Jay stood a little straighter. “If he picked up on something we didn’t…”
“He’d go after her.” I didn’t hesitate. “Especially if he thought she was going to go into heat and wouldn’t have anyone around to stop him.”
All at once, Jay’s voice dropped into something far colder and far more dangerous. “Do you think Marchand knew?”
“I think he didn’t care,” I growled. The man only ever cared about his bottom line and the reputation of the team. Even the latter was negotiable. “Or worse—he saw the leverage and wanted to use it.”
He went still again. Thinking. Calculating.
But I was already halfway back to the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I don’t care if it’s a long shot—I’m going to find her. I’ll drive every icy road from here to Alaska if I have to.”
Jay followed me into the hall. “Rhett.”
I turned back.
“If you go rogue, you might spook her. Make it worse.”
“I’d rather her be pissed at me than alone in a cabin with someferal assholecircling her like prey.”
He didn’t argue, because he knew I was right. All he said was, “Then we do this smart. I’ll keep digging. You check the highway cams. Look for traffic logs, gas receipts. Roan might have something soon, and if he doesn't—he'll come looking too.”
I swallowed hard.
Everything inside me was howling now. Not just anger.
Need.
Fear.
Somethingolder.
She’s in heat.
She’s alone.
She’sours.
“Okay,” I said. “Okay.”
But I was already moving.
