Chapter Seven

Thorn

I kick my motorcycle into high gear. Faster. Faster. So fast I can't even entertain the idea of turning around.

It was hard enough to take any jobs before Eve got pregnant, but now I know she's back at Maddox Den, growing our pup inside her, driving away feels practically sacrilegious. I have no idea how Marcus does it all the time.

It doesn't help that my work feels trivial next to his. At least, at St Mercy's, he's keeping his skills sharp. Learning and practicing new ways to take care of Eve.

Meanwhile, all I'm doing is taking photos of a cheating head alpha. Trying to catch him red-handed with an outer-city omega. If one of his fellow alphas had requested I take the shots, I probably would've turned them down, but the fact that it was his omega—mother to their three pups, no less—made me reconsider.

Money's good. Any chance to taken down a scumbag head alpha is also good. Two birds and all that.

Baxter's right. I need to be busy, need to be contributing—both to our pack, and to this train wreck we call ‘high pack society'.

I'll stake out the outer-city omega's den for a while. He's still living with his family, as far as I can tell. God knows how he got roped into this affair.

Remembering Eve's words—a disgraced omega might as well give up altogether—I make a mental note to keep any distinguishing features out of the pictures.

As I speed along, following the freeway down between the tall trees, I'm surprised to note a van speeding in the opposite direction. It's moving too fast to make out many details before it blurs past me, but one thing's for certain: it's unmarked.

Without another thought, I swerve to the side of the road. Tugging my helmet off with one hand and grabbing my phone with the other, I dial Baxter.

He answers on the second ring. "That didn't take long."

"There was a van," I tell him, ignoring the taunt. "Black. Heading south towards the den."

He pauses, possibly moving to another room, then says, "Other cars are allowed to be on the road, Thorn. We get moving trucks out here all the time, going interstate."

"Not unmarked."

Another pause, considering. Paranoid fuck that I am, Baxter's almost just as bad, and it doesn't take him long to assess the potential threat. "Did you catch the plates?"

"It was too fast. Just wanted to give you the heads up."

"Alright. Our heads are up. Thanks for letting me know."

Sensing the conversation coming to an end, I blurt out, "Eve. How's she doing?"

"You mean, in the full hour you've been gone?"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah."

"She's good. Red's taking care of her as we speak."

Jealousy spikes through me. I'm only gone an hour, and Red's already got his dick in my omega? The way Marcus gets all twitchy whenever things start to heat up, I wasn't even sure we were supposed to be having sex right now. What if it hurts the pup?

"Easy," Baxter says, making me aware of the growl in my breath. "Trust me, he's got it handled."

"Gently handled, I hope."

"Haven't heard any complaints."

Eavesdropping? I almost taunt, but think better of it.

He tells me to stay safe and promises to keep an eye out for any vans before hanging up. I'm surprised to find my tension lifted. Content I've done my job as second, and trusting Baxter to do his as pack head.

I get back on my motorcycle and travel further, faster. The sooner I get there, get the damn pictures taken, the sooner I can get home to Eve.

About a half-hour away from the omega's family den—perched right on the outskirts of the city—I stash my bike so I can take the rest of the route on foot. If I cut through the trees, I'll shorten my trek, and keep myself hidden.

Stealth and efficiency. My specialties.

I check my phone one last time before taking out the SIM card, making sure I can't be traced. Two missed messages.

BAXTER

Found your mystery van.

My heart jolts.

BAXTER

Don't worry. Just a delivery for Eve.

I scowl, wanting to demand more information, but hold back. If Baxter says not to worry, that should be good enough for me.

I text back a single thumbs up before dismantling my phone, leaving it locked in the bike.

Already counting the minutes until I'm home.