CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The SUV had barely come to a halt when Deke ragged open its sliding side door. A sense of urgency clutching his chest, he leapt out, Tate and Camden hot on his heels. Deke distantly noted that Farrell and the Betas—who the Alphas had instructed to head to the scene of the accident—had already arrived, but he paid them no real attention. Ignoring everyone but the slender female sat at the roadside, he crossed straight to her.

She stood, and he framed her face with his hands, leery of hauling her close when he knew her body would be sore in places. He dropped his forehead to hers. “Baby.” It was a gravelly whisper.

He’d been right beside Tate when Havana had called her mate to inform him of the incident. Panic had knifed through Deke’s gut, and he’d snatched Tate’s cell out of his hand and demanded that Havana put Bailey on the phone. His mamba had assured him that she was fine, but her words hadn’t been enough to ease the wave of rage that had surged through him.

“I’m all right,” Bailey muttered, laying a hand on his upper arm. “Just mega pissed.”

She wasn’t “all right” at all. She had a goddamn head wound that had bled bad enough to form a thick clump of sticky blood in her hair. There were also some cuts on her face and arms, and he would bet her chest hurt like hell.

His cat prowled beneath his skin, anger in every fluid step. She might not belong to the feline, but he still regarded her as under his direct protection. That someone would dare target her—again—made his blood boil.

Righting his head, Deke looked down the steep hill behind her and caught side of Luke and Blair studying the wreckage. Deke’s lungs seized. The chunk of metal was positively fucked—windows gone, roof dented, doors hanging off.

And Bailey had been inside it.

He couldn’t stop his hands from tightening their hold on her face.

She wrapped her fingers around his wrists. “Really, I’m fine.”

He snapped his gaze back to hers. “No, you’re not.” But she would be once Helena, who was currently healing Havana, made her way over.

Tate had brought the healer even though his mate had assured him that none of their injuries were serious. Deke had been glad, not wanting Bailey or the other females to be in needless pain.

Skimming his gaze over both Havana and Aspen, he could see an array of cuts and bruises, though Havana’s were healing before his eyes. Camden seemed to be insisting that Aspen had a broken rib, but the bearcat claimed it was merely bruised.

The crunch of gravel made Deke look to see Farrell approaching. Letting his hands slip away from Bailey, Deke half-turned toward the Head Enforcer. “Did you find anything?”

Farrell pointed to a spot on the opposite side of the wreckage and said, “A motorcycle was parked over there earlier, and there’s evidence that someone was lying in wait.”

“Someone who knew our schedule and is a crack shot,” said Havana, her expression diamond hard. “We looked around after I called Tate, but the asshole was long gone by then.”

“We were pretty sure they’d scampered, but we shifted and let our animals go check shit out.” Bailey paused as Helena laid a healing hand on her shoulder. “There’s no trail to follow, though.”

“And we didn’t pick up a scent,” Aspen grumbled. “They used a scrambler.” The pungent, scented sprays were designed to screw with a shifter’s enhanced sense of smell, allowing people to hide their signature scent and protect their identity.

Right then, Luke and Blair clambered back up the hill.

“Tire was definitely shot out,” the Beta male confirmed. “No other bullets appear to have hit the car.”

Blair folded her arms. “I don’t think this was an attempt to kill. If that were the case, the prick would have stuck around and either shot at the vehicle in the hope of making it go boom, or shot at Havana, Aspen, and Bailey to take them out. He didn’t.”

Luke dipped his chin. “This seemed more like another attempt at giving Bailey a scare.”

“Doesn’t matter what their motivation was,” said Camden, his voice liquid menace. “They’ll pay for this in blood.”

“Too right they will,” Deke agreed, clenching his fists.

His jaw tight, Tate looked from his brother to Blair. “You can get this mess cleaned up, right?”

“Consider it done,” replied Luke, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call on a few enforcers to give us a hand.”

Tate gave a curt nod and then turned to his mate. “Let’s get you home.”

Deke, Bailey, Aspen, Camden, Farrell, and the Alphas piled into the nine-seater SUV. Like all the pride-owned vehicles, it had windows that were not only tinted but bulletproof.

Deke followed Bailey onto the rear row and sank onto the seat beside her. Her injuries were gone now, but streaks of dried blood remained on her skin and matted her hair. The scent taunted him and his cat, reminding them she’d been hurt.

Deke took her hand in his, ignoring the flicker of surprise in her eyes. So he wasn’t the type to hold hands or link fingers or whatever. So what?

Farrell gave the horn a brief toot and nodded in goodbye at the Betas as he drove forward.

“I don’t think the jackals did this,”began Havana from the two-seat passenger row in front of Deke. “Don’t get me wrong, I can easily see them running Bailey off the road to shake her up some. But they wouldn’t have struck while I was with her. To target an Alpha is to start a war. The jackals claimed they don’t want one.”

“And if that’s true, they would have had nothing to gain from what happened today,”Aspen piped up, snuggling into Camden on the seat adjacent to the devil shifter. “Seems unlikely that they did it.”

“Then I’d say either Ginny or Jackson’s brothers were behind it,” Farrell announced from the driver’s seat. “I’m not saying that any of them were the shooter. They might have hired someone to do the job for them, just as the human extremist was hired.”

Tate let out a hum. “I think it’s time we question the three loners.” Draping his arm over the back of the seat, the Alpha glanced over his shoulder at Deke. “Have River look up their addresses. Once we know where to find them, I’ll send people to pick them up and bring them to us.”

Deke fished his phone out of his pocket and quickly did as asked. “Done.” With that, he pocketed his cell.

Tate slid his gaze to Bailey. “I’m assuming you still have the number for Amiri.”

Suspecting where this was going, Bailey replied, “It’s logged in my phone. You want to call him?”

Tate nodded. “After all, there’s a chance it was their pack. A slim chance, yes, but it’s there all the same. If it was them, this was essentially a declaration of war. As such, they’ll have no reason to deny it.”

It was a possibility, though Bailey personally doubted it. Jackals weren’t known for playing guessing games. If this had been a declaration of war, they’d have stuck around to verbally make it clear, not fled the scene. Still, she handed her cell to the Alpha.

Flexing the fingers of her free hand, she cricked her neck. Her muscles were stiff and achy from the anger she couldn’t quite shift. It was one thing that she’d been hurt. It was a whole other that her girls had also been wounded. She was seriously gonna skin some fucker alive when she had their name, and her equally enraged snake would put them through a world of hurt with her venom.

Tate placed the call on speaker. It rang a few times before a voice answered, “Bailey, good to hear from you. I hope you are calling with news about Roman.”

“Not Bailey,” the Alpha told him. “Tate.”

A pause. “Ah. What can I do for you?”

“You can tell me if your pack are behind what happened today,” said Tate, his voice silky with menace. “Bailey was ran off a road and crashed her car. My mate and one of my other enforcers were inside the vehicle. None are dead, but all are injured. I would like to know who’s responsible for those wounds.”

“I can tell you for certain that it was not my pack,” Amiri firmly stated, a ring of truth in his voice that couldn’t be ignored. “I have told you before, we have no interest in going to war with you.”

“So you say. But you have to admit it doesn’t look good for you that someone began targeting her right after you showed up.”

“You must have your doubts, though, or you would have come for us by now,” Amiri smoothly pointed out.

“Don’t mistake that for me having a single fucking issue with shitting fury all over your pack. People die in wars. I will not take my pride into battle unless I am convinced it is necessary. If at any point I become convinced that you are behind the recent attacks, I will come for your pack. And I will fucking decimate it.” With that, Tate rang off.

“Either someone from his pack acted without his knowledge, or they’re unconnected to what happened,” decided Camden, his voice flat, his eyes still hard. “Because that jackal was telling the truth.”

Bailey dipped her chin. “Who are you sending to collect Jackson’s brothers and Ginny?” she asked Tate as he passed her phone back to her.

“Farrell, Isaiah, Finley, and Joaquin,” the Alpha male replied.

Camden’s eyes narrowed. “Is there a particular reason why you’re not sending me?”

“Yes,” replied Tate. “It’s for the same reason I’m not sending Havana, Deke, Bailey, or Aspen. You want blood. You’re not particularly bothered at this point who you make bleed. And we have no proof that any of the three loners are guilty. They don’t even seem likely suspects, since a few loners would be foolish to take on an entire pride.”

Camden’s nostrils flared. “If they are guilty—”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if they tried provoking their captors into ending their life so they could escape the consequences,” Tate finished. “You’re too furious to hold back. It’s better that others go grab them.”

Bailey agreed with that decision. Camden was hyper-protective of Aspen, not to mention a sadistic fucker. He’d easily snap the neck of anyone he even suspected could be responsible for the injuries his mate had received. Really, so could Bailey. As such, it was definitely best all round that she wasn’t being sent to collect the loners.

Havana sighed at Tate. “You’re right that they’d be dumb to take us on. Seems both strange and improbable that they would, even to avenge Jackson. It’s not like he’s dead. He recovered, and he doesn’t believe Bailey is responsible.” She paused. “I take it you don’t intend to hard-core-interrogate them, since they’re not full-on suspects.”

“No, I see no need for it,” Tate told her. “I say we ask them some questions, all civil-like. If they lie, we can kick things up a notch. They’ll be shaken up enough by being snatched out of their homes.”

“Yeah, you don’t need to tie someone up to intimidate them,” said Farrell. “You just need to box them in.”

Deke squinted, pensive. “The motorhome. We could drive it deep into the woods and question them there like we’ve done before with others. They’ll be scared at the idea that they’re in the middle of nowhere, where no one would hear them scream and their bodies could so easily be disposed of.”

Tate’s eyes sharpened with interest. “Yes, we can wait for them there. Farrell and the other enforcers can bring the trio to us. Bailey, I know your snake is a bloodthirsty creature who delights in biting people, but keep her from killing them unless it’s necessary.”

She gave him a look that said, I make no promises.

He only sighed.

Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel of the stationary motorhome a short time later, Deke spared Bailey a quick glance. Beside him, she was scratching at a splotch of dried blood on her cheek. The sight of the blood made his still-irate cat snarl.

Wanting to get right down to interrogating the loners, she’d vetoed taking a shower first. Deke had asked her to ride shotgun, wanting her close, and she’d agreed. It was a rare occasion when Bailey didn’t toss “Why?” at him when he made a request of her. He wondered if he could consider it progress or she was simply distracted by her thoughts.

He’d parked the motorhome in a wooded area not too far from their apartment complex. It shouldn’t be long before Farrell and the others arrived.

The Alphas, Aspen, and Camden were talking in the motorhome’s small living area. The bearcat kept pacing, spitting out all sorts of plans she had for whoever had dared go after Bailey. Just as furious on the mamba’s behalf, Havana sat unnaturally still as she wished all manner of deaths on the guilty party. Bailey herself, however, had little to say. Which was an indication that she was seething.

Deke’s anger had cooled during the drive, now overridden by the anticipation he felt at questioning the three loners. His Alphas were right in that it made little sense that said loners would take on so much more than they could chew. But edgy with the sheer helplessness he felt at being unable to protect Bailey from an attacker he couldn’t ID, Deke needed to do something. Scratching suspects off his list would be enough for now.

It wasn’t long before two cars pulled up outside. Deke slipped out of the motorhome, closing the door behind him. Isaiah and Joaquin urged Jackson’s brothers out of one vehicle. Farrell and Finley hopped out of the other car … without Ginny.

Frowning at the Head Enforcer, Deke asked, “Where’s Ginny?”

“No clue,” replied Farrell, his voice too low to carry to their other captives. “But I did a walk-through of her apartment. Some of her things are missing—clothes, phone, ID, keys. I got the impression that she’s been gone at least a week.”

“A week?” Deke echoed. What the fuck?

“Either she’s visiting someone,” began Finley, “or she’s in hiding.”

Deke inwardly cursed and then turned to the male loners. Both were wide eyed, their dark hair tussled, clearly spooked. Good. They should be afraid. Because if one or both of them were behind what happened to Bailey, they’d die for it. And they wouldn’t die easily or quickly.

He gave them a smile that wasn’t in the least bit reassuring as he opened the door that led into the motorhome’s living area. “In you go.”

Somewhat reluctant, they slowly entered.

Farrell turned to the three enforcers who’d aided him in bringing the suspects to the motorhome. “Stay out here and keep a lookout for anyone who might stumble across us. Alert us if there’s anything of note.” With that, he then followed Deke into the motorhome.

As both took up a position either side of the closed door, Deke mouthed to Tate, “Ginny’s in the wind.”

Sprawled on the bench-sofa with his mate, Tate pressed his lips into a flat line. He then focused on the brothers and gestured at the identical bench-sofa opposite his. “Have a seat.”

Neither loner looked as if they had any wish to accept the Alpha’s invitation, but they nonetheless sat—their backs stiff, their gazes darting around. They clocked Bailey, who was kneeling on the front passenger seat, peering over her headrest. She gave them a little wave, her smile sweet, her eyes empty.

“I know your names, but I’m wondering which is which,” Tate said to them.

“I’m Keaton,” one said before tipping his head toward the male beside him. “This is Jarrett. What’s all this about?”

Leaning against the wall, Camden cocked his head. “You have no idea why you’ve been brought here?” The casual question came out flat.

Jarrett shook his head. “No.”

One hand braced on the kitchenette counter, Aspen let out a doubtful snicker. “Not sure I believe that, but I guess we’ll soon see.”

Tate leaned forward, bracing his lower arms on his thighs, and clasped his hands. “We’re going to ask you some questions,” he told the brothers. “Answer honestly, you get to go home. Simple.”

Keaton swallowed. “Okay.”

“Did you manage to uncover who attacked your brother and left him to die?” Tate asked.

“No.” Keaton licked his lips. “We tried, but it was a dead-end. No pun intended.”

“Hmm.” Tate bit the inside of his cheek. “What does your gut tell you happened to him?”

“That it was likely a random attack.”

“You suspected Bailey at one point, correct?”

Keaton hesitated. “Ginny thought there was a good chance that she was to blame.”

“I’m not asking what Ginny suspected. I’m asking about you.”

“I thought it was possible. At first. I mean, she made his life difficult for months. But everyone I spoke to who knew her, including Jackson, didn’t believe it was something she’d do. They were all of the opinion that Ginny was capitalizing on what happened to have Bailey hurt.”

Deke cut in, “Where is Ginny now?”

Keaton blinked at him. “I don’t know. We haven’t been in contact recently.”

Deke narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

It was Jarrett who answered, “She didn’t like that we accused her of pointing fingers at Bailey just to get some revenge.”

Aspen pushed away from the kitchenette’s counter. “When did you last hear from her?”

Pursing his lips in thought, Jarrett shrugged. “About ten or so days ago. Did … did Ginny do something?” he asked, sweeping his gaze over every face.

“Possibly,” said Bailey. “Or it could have been either—perhaps even both—of you.”

Keaton reared back. “What?”

“Bailey has been targeted twice recently,” Deke explained, his tone cutting as a blade. “There was an acid attack not long ago. And then today she ended up crashing her car after someone shot her tire.”

Jarrett gave a wild shake of the head. “We had nothing to do with that.”

Havana flicked up an unconvinced brow. “Really?”

“It wasn’t us, I swear,” Keaton asserted.

“You can speak for your brother?” Deke asked him. “You know for a fact that he didn’t act independently?”

“He wouldn’t do something like that,” Keaton insisted.

Deke looked at the other loner. “Is he right to have such faith in you?”

“It wasn’t me,” Jarrett swore, a tremor in his voice. “Even if we had solid proof that it was Bailey who hurt Jackson, no way could I toss acid at her. That kind of shit is fucked up. And I wouldn’t go shooting at her car either. I fight with tooth and claw, like any self-respecting shifter. My brother’s the same. No way could he have done it.”

“It wasn’t us,” Keaton vowed.

“And you didn’t hire anyone to act on your behalf?” asked Camden.

Both brothers shook their heads hard.

Tate straightened in his seat. “We’re going to check your cell phones. Particularly your texts and emails. Tell us in advance if there’s anything we’ll find that could … upset us.”

Keaton rubbed at his nape, averting his gaze. “We might have typed some, uh, unflattering things about Bailey a couple of months back when we heard all she’d done to Jackson. But you’ll see we changed our mind about her when you read the whole conversation.”

He and Jarrett handed over their phones without argument, though neither looked pleased to do so. Bailey skimmed through one cell while Havana went through the other. Both made the same claims—there were no recent messages from Ginny, no Bailey’s at fault conversations, and nothing whatsoever suspicious.

“Seems that you’re as innocent as you claim to be.” Tate returned their cell phones to them. “You’re free to go.”

Keaton and Jarrett exchanged a surprised look.

“If you’d like a ride, my pride mates will take you home.”

The brothers politely declined the offer as they stood. They moved slowly at first, as if expecting someone to pounce any moment. When no one did, they rushed outside.

Closing the door behind them, Deke rolled back his shoulders. “Unless they months ago decided to fake an entire text-conversation to mislead us into believing they don’t think Bailey’s guilty, they’re telling the truth.”

“Ginny didn’t feel the same way about Bailey, so I would have been very interested in talking to her,” said Camden, sliding an arm around his mate’s waist.

“Seems more than suspicious that she’s out of reach,” said Deke, as frustrated as his cat that they were unable to question her.

Tate nodded. “I think it’s safe to say at this point that she’s high on our suspect list.”

They discussed the matter for a few more minutes and then decided to head home. Once they reached their complex, Deke herded an uncharacteristically quiet Bailey to her apartment and followed her inside. “Shower,” he declared.

She blinked. “You’re coming with me?”

“The scent of your blood is making me crazy. I want it gone.”

“I can wash it off myself.”

“I want to do it.”

She shot him a quick look. “Careful. I’ll start to think you like me or something.”

His lips slightly kicked up. “That would be foolish.”

Pleased that she’d cracked his black mood—which was ironic, really, considering she usually liked putting himin such a mood—Bailey snorted in amusement. Her own was no less foul. Similarly, her mamba was just as incensed. The anger that had earlier invaded and stiffened every muscle in their body was no longer so wild, but it hadn’t left them either.

But when Bailey and Deke stood under the hot spray of her shower as he shampooed her hair so gently, careful not to tug on the bloody strands, she felt her tension begin to leach from her system. At the same time, though, she felt a little awkward. Which he must have noticed, because at one point he arched a questioning brow at her.

She shrugged. “I don’t know what to do when you’re so nice to me. It feels like there’s something wrong with the world.”

Again, his mouth quirked a little. “Maybe I just like to keep you on your toes.” The humor drained from his face as he looked down at the bloody water on the base of the shower.

“I wasn’t too badly hurt,” she reminded him.

“You could have been,” he clipped, not in the slightest bit placated. “And if Helena hadn’t healed you, you’d be in a shit load of pain right now.”

“Shame I’m not. You’d have made a hot nurse.”

“Who says I’d have tended your wounds for you?”

She pouted and put a hand over her heart. “You’d have let others get too close to me while I was vulnerable?”

She thought he’d bark “absolutely” even if only to tease her, but he grumbled out a gruff and somewhat reluctant “no.”

She blinked, and her snake almost jerked in surprise. “Really?”

He gave a defensive shrug. “So I’m protective of you. Sue me.”

“Aw, you’re such a sweetie pie.”

He sent her a droll look. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

She smiled. “But you’re a joy to irritate.”

“How about you kiss me instead?”

“Hmm, I guess I could do that.”

The kiss was soft, slow, and lazy. Much to her surprise, so was the round of sex that followed when they stumbled into bed. And afterward, when he switched off the lamp and spooned her—very clearly settling down to sleep right there with her—she didn’t insist that he leave and go to his own apartment. She lay a hand over his and closed her eyes.

God, she was turning into such a girl.