Chapter Eighteen

Clay

I squirmed in my seat, squeezing my thighs together. "Come on, little one," I whispered, pressing my hands against my belly. "Please stop kicking Daddy's bladder. Please."

The mission had begun less than a minute ago, and I was already getting to the point where I wasn't sure I was going to be able to hold on. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to come with them. Maybe I should've stayed home. But my prideful bear kept nagging at me. I needed to stop feeling like I wasn't being productive and the only way to do that was to become productive. And sure, my accounting was a job, but it took very little time once I got them organized, and it wasn't directly helping people. I wanted to help.

When my mate saved me, I wasn't even really there—my bear had taken over. He pushed me down, protected me from things as they unfolded. And why did he do that? Because I was scared and would have been even more frightened had I known all that was going to happen.

But I got over it. I've been surrounded by some of the strongest omegas and alphas I'd ever met. They gave me courage—strength.

I was strong.

I could do this.

Only, right now, all of that was a lie. I was being thwarted—by my fucking bladder. Ugg.

"What?" Jack whispered.

Crap. I'd been too loud. So much for hiding my needs for even a full minute.

"Jack, I gotta pee. Is there a cup or something in here?" As gross as that was, I was willing to do anything about now.

He looked at me like I had five heads. He'd been pregnant before. How could this be confusing to him? Because people who can't stay out of the bathroom for five minutes didn't go on missions, that was why.

"Listen, the baby just moved. He's sitting on my bladder. Either I'm gonna pee now, or I'm gonna pee now." And really, there were worse things than peeing in a van, right?

"Just—" He rubbed his heel against his forehead. "Let's go outside the van for a second."

That didn't sound like a good idea, and I began to tell him as much when he cut me off with a hand.

"Just go fast. They can't have gotten far, which means no one knows we're here. Yet." Yet being the operative word.

That sounded true. It really did. Or maybe I wanted it to be true badly enough to convince myself it was. In any case, five seconds later, I was working my way out of the van.

Once I was outside, all the others who were there guarded me while I drained my bladder. I felt a thousand times better for about two seconds. And as brave and strong as I thought I was, my bear did it fucking again. He pushed me down before it even registered that anything was happening around me.

I heard muffled cries then what I was pretty sure was a bone snapping in the distance. The messed-up part was that I wasn't aware enough to know it if it was mine or not.

The more I struggled with my bear, the harder he pushed me down until suddenly everything was black. Not hard-to-see darkness. No, it was full-on black.

And the smell… I nearly puked. It was rancid, like burlap that had gotten moldy, stuck out in a barn somewhere for goddess knew how long. Struggling to keep from hurling while at the same time attempting to take back my body, I found myself buried deeper than I ever had been before. I didn't know if I was standing or sitting or swimming or falling or on fire. I didn't even know if I was still alive.

Why, bear? Why? I needed to come out, to be safe for my mate, to protect my mate and our baby. Only, when I finally pushed through and squashed my beast, I was someplace I didn't recognize. And the stench was so much worse.

I cracked my eyes open and figured out why it was so black and stinky—my head was completely covered, and I was enveloped in the horrific scent, and my arms were bound.

Normally, I wouldn't let that get in my way. I'd shift and break through it all and bleed whoever was there dry…or at least my bear would. But I was very pregnant, could no longer shift, and was sitting flat on the floor. There was zero chance I was going to be able to get up without my arms and, if I did, what was I going to do? Waddle away? That hardly felt like an escape plan.

A rustle close by confirmed I wasn't alone. Not that I had assumed I would be.

"Who are you?" The burlap made it impossible for me to tell if they were human or in their animal form.

"Fuck you, vermin," the voice said, and I recognized it instantly. He worked side by side with my boss back at the mansion.

Fuck.

"Take this off me."

Don't push me down again. I've got this.

Silence.

"It's not like me seeing anything is going to make a difference, is it?"

"You think I want to look at you? All I care about is the price I'm going to get for you and your baby."

He wanted my baby. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. Not on my watch. Half an idea formed, and I acted, crossing my fingers the other half would materialize. I didn't exactly have time to play the planning game.

I fell back. It hurt my arms, pressing them tightly against my back and shooting pain up my spine. I breathed deep and heavy, exaggerating every one of them.

"What are you doing?"

I made my breath sound more labored, holding back the vomit that threatened to escape as I sucked in the spores from what was growing on the fabric covering my head.

"What's going on?" He sounded worried enough this time that I risked "hearing" him.

"Allergic. Something. Allergic. Can't breathe." I let my breath get more and more labored until, finally, he pulled the burlap off of me. I slowed my breathing down just a little.

"Better. Better…" I rasped.

"You're such trash." He spit in my face as he talked, but as gross as that was, it was worth it when he pulled me back up to sit, blocking my view of wherever we were. "If it were up to me, you'd be in a cage. But we have to keep that baby safe, don't we? It'll help us fetch double, maybe triple the money for you."

I closed my eyes, not wanting to get him more riled up and praying to the goddess that someone would come and find me, would get me out of here. I didn't even care about myself. I cared about my baby. I refused to let them grow up as someone's purchase. Fuck that noise.

Please. Please, please, let Jeremy be coming.

I hated how selfish I felt, wanting him—of all people—to come rescue me. But I did.

And then I heard him in my mind. I'm on my way.

Was it really him? Was it my imagination? I didn't care. It gave me hope, and that was all that mattered.