“Yeah, and don’t worry. I’ve got a plan.”
“Okay. But hurry. Afterglow doesn’t last long with these guys.”
“As soon as I can.” Frankie thumbed off the phone, dropped it in her lap, and looked at Ryan.
“You don’t have a plan,” he said. More a statement than a question.
She shook her head slowly.
“And you can’t do the alpha thing again.”
Again, she shook her head. Then she took a deep breath, gave him a quick, very abrupt kiss, and started to get dressed.
“What are you doing?” He knew the answer before she said it.
“I’m going over there.”
He nodded and started grabbing clothes for himself. Fortunately, the Griz kept lots of XXXL sweats around for just this kind of thing.
“You’re going to confront your brother.” It wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway. A shallow dip of her chin. “A dominance fight.” He swallowed. “Can you win that?”
He was watching her closely and so he knew that she didn’t answer by even the smallest movement. She’d locked down everything—thoughts, feelings, even panic—under a stoic mask of determination.
He touched her arm, pulling her gently so that they faced each other. “We’ll fight this together.”
“Dominance fights are one on one. You can’t help.” Her voice was tight, and he read despair in her face. “I’ll have to kill my brother.”
After everything Raoul had done, she still wanted to save him. His heart swelled in pride for her fierce love. Especially since he’d just become part of her family. “We need a different option,” he said.
She nodded slowly, and he felt her rigid mask soften. He felthersoften. “Okay, so that’s the plan.”
“What?”
“To figure out a plan on the way there.”
Chapter 23
Frankie had butterflies in her stomach and knots in her neck, shoulders, and back. She had her phone in her pocket right next to their entire plan: a hypodermic needle with the anti-serum. Dr. Cecilia Lu had made it clear that it wouldn’t reverse any brain damage, but it did noticeably decrease aggression. So the plan was to get close enough to her brother to inject him. If nothing else, it would ease off his push to drive the pack into war and hopefully allow her to reach the sweet boy he’d once been.
Not much of a plan as those things went, but it was all she had. Plus Ryan at her back and the Griz waiting nearby. The cops were aware in a general sense and on standby if things turned ugly. That was the best she could hope for as she turned the corner to head to the front door of the community center.
“Frankie—” Ryan said, his voice low.
“You can’t talk me out of this,” she interrupted. “Anyway, it’s too late to turn around now.” They’d been spotted by the wolf stretched across the front step.
“I was going to say that I’ve got your back. No matter what.”
Her step hitched and she winced at her own stupidity. Of course, he was going to say something supportive. That was who he was. He served and protected, and right now that meant he stood behind her when she knew he really wanted to be in front shielding her from her own kind. But this was a wolf matter and a bear could only make it worse. Unless, of course, he was quiet, smart, and waited for her signal to go all grizzly. “Um, yeah. Thanks.”
Talk about a lame response. That wasn’t even remotely what she wanted to say. She ought to be saying that she felt him deep inside. He was a calm presence that gave her hope for a future that—a day ago—had seemed impossible. That right now it was taking everything in her not to grab his hand and run away. It didn’t have to be far. Hell, they could get lost in Chicago and live happily ever after. That was only a short five-hour drive. And most of all, she wanted to say the words that she’d been holding back for a while now.
I love you.
She hadn’t said it and neither had he, but that’s what she felt for him. But how could she say that to him when she might very well die in the next few minutes? The odds of her winning in a straight fight against her brother were slim to none. Then again, how could she not say it? It might be her very last chance.
And then she ran out of time. That’s what happened when she dithered. The wolf guarding the front door raised its hackles and growled menacingly.
“Get out of the way, Stark,” she snapped. That wasn’t the wolf’s real name, but he’d started styling himself after the brilliant superhero when he’d gotten a B in high school chemistry. “I’m here to put an end to this nonsense.”
