My hands curl tighter. “Seizure?” I grind out.
“S’okay,” Jack says weakly. “He knows now.”
Mateo mutters something aboutHIPAAandthis damn family. It’s mostly in Spanish, and mine isn’t good enough to follow along completely. Finally, he sighs. “After she left the mayor’s, she went into full-blown heat in the car. Tony called us. We called their mom. We think her fever spiked high enough to cause a seizure. I got it under control and pushed back the worst of it, so like I said, she was sleeping in the nest when I left.”
“Maybe she went to a clinic,” Jack says quietly.
Rage detonates in my chest, and I have to place my palms on the dining table and breathe through it.
“She seemed really adamant that a clinic was not an option,” Mateo says carefully, eyeing me with apprehension. “But I guess if the pain got bad enough…”
“Why didn’t shetellme?” The words rip out of me. I want to tear the apartment apart. Tear through the city. No one touches her.
Only, isn’t this exactly how Ava operates? She walls herself off. Handles everything alone, even when it hurts her. Especially when it hurts her. I can absolutely see her choosing a clinic over honesty and vulnerability.
My alpha is already pulling me toward the door. “I’m going to go downstairs and talk to the front desk. I can’t sit here and do nothing.”
I take the other elevator, the one that drops straight to the main floor. The doors slide shut, and the sudden quiet surrounds me, making the noise in my head seem ten times louder. I press my forehead against the cool wood paneling and breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth, trying to get a handle on myself.
I’m overwhelmed. Every interaction we’ve ever had now makes more sense when viewed in a different light. Yet I also have more questions than ever before.
Did she know we were mates this entire time and chose to keep it buried?
The elevator opens, and I turn immediately, crossing the lobby in long, purposeful strides. An older man with neatly combed white hair looks up from the desk, his expression calm, almost expectant.
“Good evening, Mr. Taylor,” he says smoothly.
I slow, caught off guard. “Hello. I’m sorry, do we know each other?”
“Ah, my apologies,” he replies. “I know you from the papers, of course. And,” he adds, gesturing toward a monitor on the desk, “from our security system.”
The screen shows a split feed of the main and service elevators. Not the first time he’s seen me enter Ava’s penthouse, then.
I nod once. “Right. Well, then you understand why I’m asking. I’m looking for Ms. Kendrick. She isn’t well, and she left earlier. Did you happen to see her?”
“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “She buzzed down and told me she couldn’t locate her phone and asked if I could call her a car.”
I perk up. “Did you call her normal driver?”
“No,” he answers sheepishly. “She couldn’t recall the number, and unfortunately, I didn’t have it on file. An oversight that will be corrected, I assure you.” He hesitates, clearly choosing his words. “She requested a… particular kind of car service. Which I procured.”
For a second I don’t understand, but then it clicks. Omega emergency transport. They only employ vetted betas and advertise discretion. I’ve seen their commercials late at night when I can’t sleep.
They typically provide transport to heat clinics.
I let out a sharp breath. “Do you know where she asked to be taken?”
He shakes his head. “I escorted her to the vehicle, but there was an alpha approaching, and I prioritized getting her secured inside. I didn’t hear the destination. Though I assumed—”
“I know,” I cut in, rubbing at my jaw. “Yeah.”
I force myself to straighten up. “Could you buzz her apartment and let her brother know that information? So they’re not left guessing.”
“Of course, sir.”
I turn toward the front doors, my steps slowing as I reach them.
I have no idea what to do now. My mate is gone. In heat and alone. I have no clue where to possibly even start looking, and worse yet, she chose to go to a clinic instead of letting me help her.
