No one seems to be following me. No guards running after me, no gunshots, no sirens.
I think I did it.
Now comes the tough part: Finding the police station and turning in the evidence.
I wander the streets, jumping at every loud noise, before I see a cop car parked at a gas station. They’re probably just getting some donuts or something. Hopefully, they don’t object too much to a massive trafficking scam getting dropped in their laps while they’re on break.
Who knows? Maybe they’ll be grateful. Maybe this case will be the one that gets someone promoted to detective. That’s how it works on TV, right?
The patrol car doors are, of course, locked. Windows are shut, so there’s no sliding the envelope inside for the officers to discover. Maybe I can just stick it under a windshield wiper blade …
“Hey! What the fuck are you doing?”
Busted.
Chapter 24
Mags
It isn’t the police-assisted federal raid that sends me spiraling into panic.
It isn’t watching the Langleys carted away in chains.
It isn’t being escorted to an unmarked building for questioning.
It’s the fact that, in all that, I can’t find Kaden.
Kip was with me in the omegas’ rooms when the raid went down. Nik was on guard duty, and the feds reunited us within minutes once he explained that I was his pregnant mate. But Kaden wasn’t with us.
He wasn’t in the throng of confused servants and staff outside.
He wasn’t anywhere.
Confusion reigns as the officers and agents round us all up and sort us into neat little groups. They allow bonded packs like us to stick together, but the poor unbonded servants have to undergo questioning on their own. I’d feel sorry for them, but my mind won’t let me focus on anything but finding Kaden.
I ask every cop and federal agent who will listen, but no one is telling me anything. The second I mention Kaden’s name, they shut down and tell me to “Please sit down, Ms. O’Neil.”
Except I wasn’t Ms. O’Neil in this con. I was Ms. O’Bryan.
There’s only one way they could have my real name.
Nik does the best he can to console me, but my brain just feeds me constant worst-case scenarios no matter what he does. Kip insists that Kaden’s alive, that he’d know if his twin was hurt or injured, but that’s all he knows. Kaden seems to have taken a page from my book and hidden himself from the pack bondandthe twin bond, so none of us have any idea where he is.
I don’t know how or why, but the three of us aren’t arrested. Once the feds take our statements, they bid usadieu, but not before reminding us not to leave town.
How can we leave town when Kaden might be locked up somewhere?
The news outlets aren’t much help. They report an anonymous tipster who notified the authorities of the trafficking ring that the Langleys were part of, but no one is saying where that tipster went. Is he arrested? In witness protection? Where is my third mate?
The only thing I know for certain is that anxiety and morning sickness do not mix. I can barely force anything down, and what little I do eat comes right back up.
For some reason, the only thing that I can stomach is red licorice. Nik says that’s probably the baby at work, but I want to tell the kid that I can’t survive on licorice alone, so if he, she, or they could kindly allow me to consume something with more substance, that would be great.
We’ve been back home for three days now. Three days without news, three days without Kaden.
I have to give it to Nik and Kip; they’re trying to keep my spirits up. Nik has gone from aloof alpha with a sizeable chip onhis shoulder, to the most loving, cuddly guy I’ve ever met. He even worked with Kip to spruce up my nest, which I suppose I should appreciate more than I do.
The mattresses are now spread across the floor of Nik’s room, providing wall-to-wall softness. Kip procured some oversized suede couch cushions—where from is anyone’s guess, though they seem brand new—to line the sides of the nest, and they both spent hours hanging ethereal pink curtains around the room, with matching pink sheets, pillows, and comforters. My mini fridge from the closet-nest has been replaced with a full-sized refrigerator, complete with freezer drawer and dispenser for fresh water and ice. They even added bookshelves full of the smuttiest of smut and soft mood lighting.
