Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Leo
S haw, Ridge, and I make it to the hotel. The Netherlands is one of the few countries that I’ve never been to on an operation, and I hate the unsettled feeling that comes from not knowing the lay of the land.
Easton said the pickup would happen soon.
Ridge is going to text us when the team calls him. We won’t be able to do anything, but it will give us a few minutes to mentally prepare.
Shaw lies on one side of the king-size bed. He’s got his damn boots on and his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are closed, but he’s not asleep. He’s just silently spiraling while I huff, spinning around to pace the other direction.
The hotel room can’t be more than fifteen feet long, and if I’m not careful, I’ll wear a literal hole in the carpet.
“Lie down and get some rest while you can,” Shaw says without bothering to open his eyes. “It’s right back to hurry up and wait.”
Normally, I would laugh.
It’s basically the motto of the military. Your ass better be there on time—or even better, early—when they need you. But then you spend hours waiting around to be given your next set of orders.
I’m a type-A person.
I’m proactive.
Give me a problem, and I immediately get to work solving it. Only, there’s not a goddamn thing I can do right now to fix this, and it’s killing me.
“Want me to knock your ass out?”
I do snort at that. “Fuck you.”
It might be a nice reprieve from the constant worrying. Stomping over to the bed, I toss myself down on the opposite side from Shaw.
I’m physically and mentally exhausted, but I know I’m not going to truly rest until I see Saylor.
There’s no telling what she could be enduring right now, and the longer it takes us to gain access to the facility, the more of a chance some rabid alpha has to bite her.
She could reject the bond. It wouldn’t cause her any more discomfort than a healing bite wound, but it would cause the alpha what’s described as agony. It’s nature’s way of protecting omegas from unwanted bondings.
The main problem is that if they take away her suppressants, she could get hazy and start begging any alpha for their knot and their bite. It’s another of those known facts. Omegas beg during waves of heat, even when they’re too foggy to know what they’re asking for.
My fists clench.
I’m in hell.
I have to be.
* * *
Before
“Come on, Saylor, just pick one.” I groan, leaning against the wall just outside of the changing room she’s been trapped in for the better part of an hour.
Shaw jokingly bangs his head against the wall. “Or get both. You can afford it.”
“That’s wasteful. I only need one dress.” She huffs. “I just need it to be the one. ”
“I don’t know what that means, but I’m sure they’re great,” Shaw says. “How about we flip a coin?”
“Why don’t you come back with your friends another time?” I offer, ignoring the saleswoman who won’t stop giving us the evil eye.
“All my friends got their dresses the other night when I was stuck at that stupid fundraiser.” She sounds like she’s on the verge of bursting into tears, and my chest gets tight. “I’ve never been asked to a dance before. This is special. It’s homecoming!”
Shaw looks at me, and his clenched jaw says everything.
Yeah, I’m not a big fan of Saylor’s new boyfriend either. Ben is a spoiled little rich kid who thinks his car and trust fund mean the rest of the world should bow to his every whim.
The senator seems to love him, which only makes me question his judgment even harder.
Saylor is a senior, and she’s almost an adult. She’ll be graduating at the end of this school year and going off to college. She’s a good kid. Honestly, she never gets into trouble. She deserves to enjoy her teenage years and have all the experiences that people look back on for the rest of their lives.
I’d just feel a hell of a lot better if she was being escorted to homecoming by anyone other than that little asshole.
“Never mind. I’ll just change back into my clothes. I’m going to tell Ben that I can’t go,” Saylor says from inside the changing room. “We can leave.” Her defeated tone makes my skin crawl.
“Nah, come out and show us. We’ll tell you which one is the winner,” I say before I can stop myself.
This is the kind of shit that kills me.
If Saylor missed out on going shopping with her friends due to some bullshit she got roped into for her father’s campaign, then Mrs. Callahan should be here, shopping with her stepdaughter.
Hell, it could have been a father-daughter bonding activity.
The looks the sales associates have been shooting our way say anyone other than me and Shaw should be the ones here with her for this.
I bet we do look creepy.
Two guys in their late twenties shopping for a dress for a homecoming dance?
Fuck.
There’s no way we don’t look shady.
I really fucking hate this job.
Actually, the only part of the job I don’t hate is Saylor.
The door pops open, and her big hazel-blue eyes meet mine.
Stepping back, I give her an encouraging smile.
I’m already worried how she’ll handle the crowd and how loud the music will be at the dance.
If she had a decent boyfriend or partner who would watch for her cues, then I wouldn’t be half as stressed.
Saylor struggles in large crowds because of her social anxiety. She’s almost always fine one-on-one or in a small group, but the dance will be packed with people.
Who’s going to remind her to put in her earbuds if the music or talking gets to be too much? That spoiled little dick isn’t going to grab her and lead her to a wall or corner, so she can breathe through the anxiety.
Saylor pulls the door back, showing off the fitted light blue dress. It’s a silky material, but the entire top has silver gems or stones that turn into cascading lines that fall down her hips and waist at different lengths.
I’m sure there’s a name for the style.
I just don’t know what that name is.
The hem reaches the tops of her feet, which is a nice, modest length. Except the front is a V that dips a little too far down her sternum.
It’s far from the most revealing thing I’ve seen the other shoppers try on, but my fists clench.
Yeah, I’m probably going to end up killing Ben. That little bastard is going to try his luck, and Shaw and I will have to murder him. If I had a little sister, he’s exactly the kind of guy I would scare away.
“What do you think?” she asks with a waver in her voice as she glances between us.
Shaw clears his throat. “It’s nice. You look beautiful. Does the other dress happen to have a turtleneck?”
I don’t think the dress will matter.
Saylor is gorgeous, and I feel like a dick even letting myself acknowledge that, but it’s plain to see.
She laughs, looking at Shaw. “No turtlenecks in the entire store. Sorry to disappoint.”
“How do you feel about a shawl? Can I interest you in a parka? I hear it’s going to be chilly on Friday.” I grin, winking just so she knows I’m kidding.
The senator and Mrs. Callahan don’t pay an ounce of attention to her unless it’s convenient for them. It’s not like Shaw or I have any real authority to veto her homecoming dress choice.
“Do you like it?” she asks, giving me an exasperated look. “I need a guy’s opinion. Is it frumpy? Some of those dresses were way too scratchy. I thought this one would be a problem, but I ended up really loving it.”
I nod. “It’s perfect for you.”
And I’m probably going to hell because all I want to do is pull her into my arms and hug the shit out of her.
If she had parents who gave a fuck, she wouldn’t be so unsure of herself. It took a while to notice it, but now that I’ve seen it, it’s impossible to miss—she’s so fucking lonely all the time.
And there’s still not a goddamn thing I can do about it.
* * *
The Present
I’m not asleep, but not fully awake either.
I’ve spent hours recalling all the times I could have put more effort into helping Saylor feel less alone. My mind is the enemy as it replays the times I copped out when I could have helped build her self-confidence, but it was like walking a tightrope. Even more time goes into imagining all the things I’d say to Logan Callahan if I could go back in time.
The door lock clicking rouses me, and half a second later, the hotel room door slams against the wall.
Light streams over my face as I sit up, growling a warning to back the fuck off. My heart rate picks up as I spot the rifles pointed my way.
Several masked men file through the door, screaming in a variety of languages for me and Shaw to…
“Stay down!”
“Don’t move!”
It’s a relief.
Don’t worry, Saylor. We’ll be there soon.