Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Blake
I pull up to the curb outside the hospital entrance and shift to face Holden, who sits in the passenger seat.
His golden-brown curls are mussed, thick lashes lowered to hide his bloodshot, hazel eyes with dark circles underneath. The faint scent of his vanilla pheromones clings to him, but exhaustion and stress turn it sour.
“You sure about this, man?” I reach over and give his knee a reassuring squeeze. “Maybe you should rest first.”
“Not until we find her.” Holden’s fingers tighten on the black laptop case in his lap, knuckles white. His brow creases with worry as he focuses on the entrance. “I have to do something.”
His voice breaks on the last word, and my chest aches in response. I want to offer some kind of comfort, but know the gesture will be rebuffed. What he needs is Chloe, safe and back with us, and I can’t give him that.
“All right,” I concede with a sigh. “Be careful, okay? Try not to get yourself in trouble.”
A ghost of a smile flickers across his face. “No promises.”
I pull him into a hug, holding him as tight as the center console will allow. “Call me if anything comes up. Otherwise, I’ll be back once I’m done visiting Sadie.”
We let the embrace linger a beat longer before Holden pulls back and opens the door. It shuts behind him with a muted thud, and he strides toward the entrance, shoulders hunched.
I should be going with him, offering a distraction, but I have my own battle to fight.
As I pull out onto the main road, heading across town to the rehab center where my sister was moved to after her overdose, I can’t shake the sinking sensation in my gut.
Chloe’s disappearance threw our pack into chaos. After security escorted us out of the hospital, we had waited in the parking lot, ready to swoop to Chloe’s rescue.
But Chloe never appeared. Her vile mother must have snuck her out through a different entrance. When we called to check on her after a few hours, we were told she had checked out.
Since then, Holden has been unraveling. It’s in the tremor of his hands, the hollowness to his eyes, the frenzy that overcomes him in the kitchen, followed by apathy. He blames himself, convinced he failed her somehow.
I pray he doesn’t shatter before we can bring her home.
The rehab center comes into view ahead, a cluster of tan stucco buildings surrounded by well-manicured lawns and Japanese cherry blossom trees. It aims for a resort vibe, but nothing can disguise the bars on the windows.
Inside, a receptionist greets me with a practiced smile.
I sign the visitor log, collect my nametag, and wait while she buzzes the secure door open.
An orderly leads me down the beige hallway, the soles of our shoes squeaking on the linoleum. We stop outside a nondescript door, and he unlocks it, gesturing for me to enter.
“You have thirty minutes,” he says in a bored tone before shutting the door behind me with a click.
Sadie paces the small room, arms wrapped around her thin frame. The sour stench of the alcohol she’s sweated out permeates the room.
She whirls to face me, stringy blond strands flying.
“Of course it’s you .” Bloodshot eyes narrow on me in accusation. “Are you the one who got me locked up in here?”
“Sadie—”
“I can’t take being here,” she cuts in, her words tumbling together in a frantic rush. “The walls are closing in on me. I can’t breathe in this place.”
She resumes her agitated pacing, fingers tugging at her hair.
“I can’t get you out of here until you’re sober.” I pull the guardianship papers from my back pocket, the ones to ensure my niece’s safety. “Sadie, I want to talk about Quinn. After this most recent incident, CPS is now involved. I think it’s best if you sign over?—”
“No!” Sadie whirls on me. “You can’t take her from me, Blake! She’s mine, not yours!”
“I’m trying to protect her, Sadie. And you. This is for your own good?—”
“My own good?” A harsh laugh rips from her throat. “I don’t need this place. Their rules and therapy are bullshit! I’m fine , Blake. Every parent takes a break sometimes from all the pressure. It’s normal. ”
“You could have set the apartment on fire.” I shake my head, heart heavy. “The police were called.”
“If that little brat had stayed in her room?—”
“Don’t talk about Quinn like that!” I roar, then temper my anger when Sadie flinches. Voice softening, I continue, “Sadie, please. Think about Quinn. She needs a stable and safe home. Let me take care of her so you have space to focus on your own health.”
Sadie’s face crumples, tears welling. “I can look after my own daughter. I just need something to take the edge off. To get me through this. If you really cared, you’d help me.”
Her desperation cuts me to the bone. I long to protect her from the demons haunting her.
But it’s not that simple, and no promises she gives right now will stick. “I do care. That’s why I can’t enable your addiction. You require help, real help, to get better. For yourself and for Quinn.”
Face twisting with hate, she sits on the cot in the corner of the room, her shoulders hunched, bleached-blond hair hanging in strings around her gaunt face.
Those golden-brown eyes, so like our father’s, turn calculated. “I can’t think straight through the pounding in my head. If you check me out of here for a couple of hours, buy me a drink to take the edge off, then I’ll be able to focus on the paperwork.”
My jaw clenches at the manipulative tactic. No way she’ll sign the document if I give in to her demand. “No, you need to stay. This is the only way you’re going to heal, so you can be present for Quinn. She needs her mom.”
Resentment flashes across Sadie’s gaunt face. “Don’t you dare use my daughter against me! This is your fault, all of it! You’re the reason I’m stuck in this hellhole!”
“It’s only been a week,” I whisper, but she doesn’t hear me, too lost in whatever imaginary scenario she’s come up with to turn herself into the victim.
“You did this so you could take Quinn from me!” she rages. “You’ve always wanted her, ever since she was born! Always meddling in my business.”
Her words sting, each one a barb straight to my heart.
I tell myself she’s lashing out, that if she were sober, she’d realize I’ve always been there for her, that the alcohol has twisted her mind. But it doesn’t take the pain out of knowing she blames me, has always blamed me, for not fixing everything, for not standing by her every time she screws up her life.
The scent of her anger, acrid and burning, mixes with the foul odors clinging to her. I can’t remember a time when she didn’t smell like stale booze and cigarettes, when she wasn’t chasing her next drink.
“Where’s Dad?” Sadie demands, her tactics shifting. “He’ll take me out of here. He won’t leave me to rot in this place.”
I hesitate, dreading telling her the truth. “Dad’s not coming, Sadie. He’s out of town on business and has no plans to cut his trip short.”
Sadie rears back as if slapped, a humorless laugh escaping her chapped lips. “Of course not. Why would he bother with his screw-up daughter? He’s never been there when I needed him, not once in my whole damned life.”
My mouth opens, then closes, unable to say she’s wrong and unwilling to lie.
Sadie’s anger crumples, replaced by a flood of tears spilling down her hollowed cheeks. She points an accusing finger at me, her hand trembling. “You’re just like him! Cold, heartless, abandoning me when I need you the most.”
The words pierce through the armor I tried to build around my heart. “Sadie, no, I’m trying to help you. I love you. This is the only way?—”
“Liar!” she shouts. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t leave me here to suffer!”
Her sobs fill the room, and I stand helpless, watching as she curls inward, her thin shoulders shaking. The urge to gather her in my arms, to promise her everything will be okay, overwhelms me. But I do none of that. Empty promises will only hurt her more in the end.
I can’t save her. Not if she refuses to save herself.
The bitter truth settles like a lead weight in my stomach. All I can do is hope that this time, something will be different. That this time, she’ll find the strength to kick the addiction.
I kneel in front of her, thrusting the guardianship paperwork under her nose. “Please, Sadie. Allow me to take care of Quinn. Let me ease this one burden for you.”
Her tears stop as if they never started.
“ Please ,” I beg my sister. “Sign the document. Give Quinn a chance at a better life.”
Slowly, her fingers curl around the pen I offer, and she scribbles her name across the bottom line. Dropping the pen, she turns her head away. “Get out, and don’t come back.”
Relief sweeps through me, and I fold the documents, backing away.
When the orderly returns to escort me out, Sadie doesn’t raise her head.
I pause in the doorway, the papers still clutched in my hand. “I love you, Sadie. I’ll come back when the doctors say you’re better.”
Silent, she rocks on her bed, clutching her elbows.
Steps heavy, I walk away. It feels like I’m abandoning her, but I can’t save her from herself. She has to want it, has to choose the hard path to recovery.
At least if she falls again, she won’t put Quinn at risk, too.
Guilt churns in my gut as I leave the rehab center. What I’m doing is best for both her and Quinn, but the confrontation ripped open old wounds, spilling out the toxic remnants of our dysfunctional family.
Sadie’s accusation echoes in my mind as I climb into my truck, the engine rumbling to life. Am I becoming like our dad? Detached, unfeeling, unable to give Sadie the support she needs while putting all of my focus on Quinn?
I recoil at the thought, my grip tightening on the steering wheel until my knuckles ache.
No, I’m not like our father. I don’t abandon my people when they need me most. Chloe is proof of that. I’m just prioritizing the pack I chose and not the toxic people who share my blood and want to drag me down to their depths.
The sterile scent of antiseptic assaults my senses as I stride into the hospital.
Stepping into Grady’s room, the sight stops me cold.
Grady lies motionless in the bed, bandages swathing his head. The machinery that surrounds him dwarfs his lanky frame, and tubes snake into his arms while another feeds him.
He appears so fragile, so unlike the charming, vibrant man I met a few days ago.
Unbidden, my mind flashes an image of Chloe in his place, her pink hair fanned across the pillow. A visceral ache grips my heart. Thank God she wasn’t hurt worse in the fall, or she’d still be in a hospital bed like Grady.
Now she’s gone, whisked away by her mother. I can’t protect her. Can’t hold her.
The helplessness eats at me.
Turning away, I find Holden slumped in a chair by the window, Grady’s laptop hugged to his chest. He looks more exhausted than when I dropped him off, an almost feverish light in his eyes.
“Did you get what you needed from Grady’s files?” I ask, my voice rough.
He rises on unsteady legs. “I gained access and changed the password so I can do a deep dive once we’re home. Hopefully, he’ll have something on here to give us a lead on where they took her.”
A spark of hope kindles to life inside me, and I clap his shoulder. “Good work. Did the doctors say anything about his condition?”
“The swelling in his head is going down, but they don’t know when he’ll wake up.” He shuffles toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
We exit the hospital into sunlight and climb into my truck.
Silence fills the drive down to the docks, where Kyle waits with the water taxi, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by concern.
Wind whips dark hair across my face as I help Holden board, afraid he’ll fall into the ocean without support.
We sit in the shade on one of the metal benches in the center of the craft, and Holden lists sideways, head drooping with fatigue.
I loop an arm around him, tugging him to my side. “Easy. I got you.”
He burrows his head against my shoulder. “What if she thinks we abandoned her? Like her dad did?”
My chest clenches, and I hug him tighter. “She knows we love her. We’ll find her.”
The words ring hollow, though. The last time I saw Chloe, I’d sent her away, consumed with worry for my niece. Did I ever tell her I love her? That I believe she’s our true mate?
“But—”
“No.” I pull back to cup his face, his stubbled jaw trembling. “She’s our Omega. Nothing will keep us from her.”
He searches my face for a long moment before giving a jerky nod. Shoulders squared, he clutches the laptop. “Something in Grady’s files will help us find her. It has to.”
I’m not so sure, but I don’t pop his bubble.
Holden has a lot riding on Grady having saved important information about Chloe. But I’m putting my hope in Dominic tracking down that viper of a mother and convincing her to reveal Chloe’s location.