She sat up. “Was anyone hurt?”
“No, it was the middle of the night. Lizzie’s still pulling surveillance footage to figure out who did it.” He yanked a shirt over his head and shoved his feet into his boots.
“Was it Garret?”
“Has to be. He’s cunning and smarter than most people give him credit for. Once he sets his mind to something, he doesn’t stop.” He grabbed his jacket off the chair. “I need to go. I have to talk to Sloane.”
“I’m coming with?—”
“Stay here.” He stopped at the door, turning to face her. His expression was completely closed off. The Eli she’d made love to moments ago, the one who laughed with her disappeared, leaving only the man who had suffered under Garret McCall for fifteen years. “He doesn’t know we’re here. Just stay in the room. I’ll be back.” He pivoted and stormed out before she could protest.
Olivia sat in the silence, the knot in her chest tightening. First, he wouldn’t let her in, and now he was locking her out. That door he refused to open for her remained shut and dead bolted for good measure. She understood the danger, she wasn’t stupid. But being told to stay like she a fragile doll that needed to be tucked away made her want to throw something at the wall.
Her stomach growled, loud enough to fill the room.
Of course.
She glanced out the window. Across the street, the neon OPEN sign of the diner glowed in the morning light.
She grabbed her clothes.
Granny’s was a quintessential American diner, with its stainless steel exterior, black and white floor tiles, and a wraparound bar just outside the steamy kitchen. Olivia slid intoone of the Formica booths along the wall, the worn red leather of the seat squeaking as she scooted to the middle.
“What can I get ya, honey?” the waitress asked in her thick native Boston accent.
They’d eaten here three days in a row, so Olivia knew what she wanted. “One All-Day breakfast with bacon, eggs over easy and an extra order of sausages. A stack of pancakes, French toast, and fried chicken steak.” She paused. “And an extra basket of fries.”
The waitress didn’t even bat an eyebrow. “Sure thing, honey. Coffee?”
Olivia wasn’t sure if that was safe for the baby, even if it was a True Mates one. “No, thank you. Just apple juice?”
“Gotcha. Be back with your drink.”
Uneasiness grew within her, about Garret escaping and possibly breaking into Lone Wolf. The fight with Eli didn’t help either. Did she push too hard? She thought that in the last couple of days, they had grown closer, not just in the physical sense. Both she and her wolf had never felt so safe around anyone. The harshness of his words had begun to fade and now she worried that she shouldn’t have forced the issue. What he had gone through during his days in the Boston Clan had been atrocious. Perhaps what happened before had been equally or more so and locking it away and never speaking of it was the only way he could survive the mental anguish.
I need to apologize.
On instinct, she took her phone out of her purse. She took a breath and unlocked the screen, her thumb immediate going to the texting icon. As she began to compose her message, she paused.
Oh crap, I don’t have his number.
She didn’t think to ask for his?—
Bang! Bang! Bang!
A scream pierced the air just as a pain exploded in Olivia’s chest, temple and stomach, making her jolt upright. A dark blurry figure dashed away from her, so fast that a normal human wouldn’t have seen it, but with her own Lycan senses, she just barely perceived its presence.
There was another scream and a crash, this time, from the waitress as she stood over Olivia, shards of glass and spilled juice at her feet, empty hand frozen as her eyes bulged out of the sockets. “You … you….”
Liquid trickled down her forehead and into the corner of her eye. She swiped at, then gasped as something red and sticky came away. Slowly, she lowered her head to look down at her own torso. Two bright red spots bloomed on her white T-Shirt, one on the left side of her chest and the other in her stomach.
She’d been shot.
“Help,” she cried out, the excruciating pain ripping at her. Her hands swiped at her chest, ripping the shirt down in half. Two angry bullet holes pierced her flesh, but to her surprise, they slowly began to close up. The magic of her True Mate pregnancy was protecting her.
Olivia held the edges of the table in an effort to bear the pain, waiting for the wounds to completely heal. However, right before the tissue closed up, it stopped and burst open again, blood spilling out.
What the hell?
