29. Mai

Chapter twenty-nine

Mai

R yan was sitting stiffly next to me, and I got a pulse of something through our bond. I couldn't quite work out what it was; concern, worry? I wasn't sure, and it was gone before I could work it out.

With the story told, Camille had sent a reluctant Tucker to say sorry to Henry, and Michael turned his attention back to us, his gaze flickering between Ryan and me. "So, what are your plans now? How do you intend to proceed with this information about Brock?"

Ryan shrugged. "First, we're going to Ronnie's. We made a deal with him, and he ought to know what's happening. Plus, he's proven resourceful in the past; he might have insights that could help us piece together more of what Brock's up to."

Shya's eyes widened, a determined glint entering her green irises. "I'll go with you."

The response was immediate and unanimous. "Absolutely not," Michael and Mason said in unison, their voices ringing with authority.

Shya whirled on Mason, her auburn curls bouncing with the sudden movement. "You have no say in this, Mason. It's my decision. "

Before Mason could respond, Michael interjected, his tone firm. "Ronnie is too dangerous, Shya. I can't allow it."

Mason folded his arms with a smug look on his face. I almost shook my head at him. He still had a lot to learn about women. If Ryan had done that to me, I'd find inventive ways to wipe that look off his face, probably with a swift kick to his jaw. But Shya wasn't backing down. She faced her father, chin lifted defiantly. "Dad, if you're really grooming me to take over the Bridgetown Pack someday, you have to let me do things like this. I have unfinished business with Ronnie. I need to see this through."

I could see the struggle in Michael's eyes—the desire to protect his daughter warring with the knowledge that she needed to learn and grow as a future Alpha.

Finally, Michael sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Fine."

Mason opened his mouth to argue, but Ryan shook his head and he closed it with a loud click. He was not happy.

Michael fixed Mason with a stern look. "Protect her at all costs."

Mason's face was stony as he replied, "Of course."

Interesting. As the Alphas, it was me and Ryan that Michael should ask to keep Shya safe, not Mason. Michael might not approve of Mason's feelings for his daughter, but he seemed quite happy to take advantage of them to ensure she was protected.

The rumble of the engine filled the tense silence as we drove, leaving the territory of the Bridgetown Pack behind. Ryan's eyes were firmly on the winding road ahead. Mason sat in the passenger seat, his gaze alternating between the side-view mirror and the road, his fingers busy rolling a tennis ball between his hands. Shya and I were in the back, an awkward silence hanging in the air.

I stared out of the window, trying not to think about Jem, about Brock, or about ripple and the danger it posed to Shifters. For some reason, I kept coming back to the idea of kids. Did I want them? I'd never given it any thought. After Ryan rejected me four years ago, I never even considered it. What about Ryan? I had no idea if he wanted them, either. With everything that had happened since I got back, it wasn't a conversation that had come up. My phone buzzed. I glanced down to see a text from Sofia.

Hey chickie, u okay? Did u reach 36 yet today?

I shook my head, smiling as I swiped the notification away.

Another buzz. This time from Wally.

Girl, let me know if u need anything! Here for u no matter what xoxo

Sofia waited exactly two minutes before she sent the next one.

So what did u decide? To pup or not to pup?

I silenced my phone, but knew I wouldn't get away with it for long. Both Sofia and Wally were going to bug me until I talked to them. I don't know why they'd picked now, with everything going on right now, to start asking about babies of all things. But maybe that was it, with everything that was going on right now, they needed something like this as a distraction.

I stole a glance at Shya. I bet she didn't get asked about babies. Not yet, anyway. No, she was on a mission today, that much was clear. She had gotten in the car with a small package wrapped in brown paper and ignored all Mason's questions as to what was in it.

"So, Edmond, huh?" I asked, ever so casually.

Shay slid her eyes to me. "I don't want to talk about it."

I held up my hands. "Sure, no problem."

I took my cue from Sofia and waited exactly two minutes. "So, is he nice? Smart? Big muscles?" I lowered my voice, "A hot-rod in bed?"

A loud bang came from the front. I leaned forward to see Mason drop pieces of an exploded tennis ball on the floor of the car. Fuck me, he'd popped the tennis ball with his bare hands!

"I know you all suspect that Mason is my fated mate," Shya sighed, "but at one stage, Tristan had me convinced that he was. I may have feelings for Mason, but I can't trust them. I won't trust my judgement in this. So, I will do as my parents think best. Edmond is a good match for the future of our Pack."

"Shya—" Mason growled as he turned in his seat.

"This is not the time to talk about it. You had your say, Mason. And no matter how growly your voice gets, how perfect your ass is, or how many contractions in my pussy it causes, I am not changing my mind!"

Okay, then.

I leaned over to her and whispered, "So exactly how many contractions in your pussy does Mason's ass cause? "

"Oh, fucking hell!" she said stiffly as she closed her eyes. Shya's face had gone bright red. "I can't believe I just said that! If you could never mention it again, that would be much appreciated."

I grinned at her. "Sure. It'll cost you a girls' night out when this thing with Brock is finished, though."

"Done."

"I'm going to mention it again. Many, many times," Mason drawled from the front seat.

"I hate you, Mason Shaw."

"Yes, but your pussy doesn't hate me. If I have to win you over one body part at a time, I will."

Shya growled next to me, crossed her arms and with a glower on her face, turned to look outside.

The buildings of Haxton emerged up ahead, the sprawling town unfurling before us. Ryan navigated the streets with practiced ease until we pulled up near a biker repair shop sandwiched between two larger buildings. I spotted Ronnie's tattooed and leather-clad gang members milling about the place.

One of the men ambled over as we got out of the car. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a shaved head and arms covered in sleeves of colorful tattoos. His leather vest hung open, revealing a white tank top stretched tight over bulging muscles.

"You the folks from Three Rivers?" he asked in a gravelly voice, his piercing gaze sizing us up.

"That's right," Ryan replied evenly. "We're here to see Ronnie."

The man nodded, scratching at his beard stubble. "Figured. Boss said you'd be stopping by. "

He jerked his head in a follow me gesture and started towards the garage entrance. I caught a glint of metal tucked into the back of his jeans. The sight sent a prickle of apprehension down my spine. These men were dangerous, even to Shifters.

I moved closer to Ryan as we entered the dim garage behind the man, the smells of oil and gasoline thick in the air.

He led us to a door marked ‘Office' in faded letters.

Without knocking, he pushed inside, announcing gruffly, "The wolves from Three Rivers are here."

Ronnie was seated behind a tidy oak desk. He looked up from some paperwork with an expectant smile, and his gaze went straight to Shya.

"Shya! Glad you could make it. I appreciate you coming all this way to deliver that package."

Shya nodded, avoiding looking at the rest of us. "Of course. I owed you a favor and I keep my word."

Ronnie winked at Shya. "That you do. And I intend to collect the rest of the favor soon."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mason clenching and unclenching his fists. Mason had burst the ball he'd brought to keep his hands busy. The fidget toys and tennis balls that he used to help him think also kept him calm.

Ronnie finally glanced at Ryan and me. "So, have you found out who's framing me yet?"

"Yeah. Brock Madden."

Ronnie's expression hardened instantly, his voice dropping. "Brock? You're sure about this?" He leaned forward intently, the flirtatious demeanor vanishing .

"We found this out from a low-level drug dealer in our area, Bradford Hayes. We believe he has a cousin working for you, Otto?" Ryan said.

"Yeah, I know Otto." Ronnie picked up his phone and spoke quickly. "Round up Otto Hayes for me. I want him here for questioning in thirty."

A clipped, "Yes, boss," came through the line before Ronnie hung up and looked at me. "Bradford steered you toward Brock?"

I nodded. "All the clues point to a person named Ghost being the major player in the ripple drug trade here. We think that Brock is Ghost. Framing you takes the target off his own back, and given you and Brock have history, I imagine he's more than happy to put that target on yours."

Ronnie was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched tight. When he responded, his words were clipped and sharp. "That fucking asshole. I should've known he'd try something like this." He slammed a fist on his desk, making us all jump.

"Hey," Shya said gently. "We're going to figure this out. Brock won't get away with it."

Ronnie's fists slowly uncurled at her words. He drew in a long breath before meeting our eyes again, his anger tempered but still simmering beneath the surface. "You're damn right he won't. I'm with you all the way on taking that fuckhead down."

Surprise trickled through me. From what I knew about Ronnie, he preferred to stay neutral, especially in Shifter disputes. His primary business was information. He went places and talked to people that others couldn't get access to, precisely because he was neutral and wasn't seen to be taking sides. Brock must have really pissed him off. If his plan had worked, and the Wolf Council believed that Ronnie was involved in moving ripple into the northeast, they wouldn't have hesitated in killing Ronnie and dismantling his businesses. Maybe Brock had finally fucked-up. He'd been one step ahead of us all this time, but pissing Ronnie off and having Ronnie and his less-than-legal resources come out on our side would be invaluable in uncovering Brock's operation and his location.

"I appreciated you all coming over here. I know your time is running short," Ronnie continued. "I may have a piece of intel for you." He leaned forward. "Word on the street is there's been some unusual activity out near the old forestry station about thirty miles north of the human town of Runford. Folks have seen armed guards patrolling the area. I did some digging. Shifters, known associates of Brock, come and go at all hours. Turns out the station got purchased a few months back by a company called Blackthorn Holdings. It looks like a shell corporation. My guys are still working on who the real owner is."

I gripped Ryan's hand, hope and fear swirling inside me.

"I figured you'd want to check it out. Could be where Brock's keeping Jem." He slid a scrap of paper across the desk towards me, an address and a crude map sketched on it.

"Thank you, Ronnie," I said. "If this pans out—"

"You'll owe me another favor."

I glanced at Ryan, then nodded. I'd agree to owe Ronnie a hundred favors if we found Jem at this address.

"Agreed. I appreciate you looking into this for us."

He gave a curt nod, his eyes flickering to Shya briefly. "I look after my allies. "

Mason shifted next to me, the glower on his face getting deeper, if that was even possible.

"Are you going to attack the old forestry station?" Ronnie asked.

Ryan nodded. "I'll get my tech guy to see what he can dig up, but yeah, barring any surprises, we're going in."

"Me and my men will be ready."

"You'll go in with us?" I asked.

Ronnie replied curtly. "We'll be there."