Chapter Five
Alex clutched the now-charged phone in his palm, the screen mocking him with its “No Location Found” message. Whatever had happened to his wallet, the GPS card inside was either dead or destroyed. A digital ghost leading them on this wild goose chase through the downpour.
Rain pattered against Alex’s jacket, a persistent drumming that somehow made the whole situation more ominous. Wind whistled through cracks in the weathered siding, carrying the damp chill of early autumn.
He pulled his jacket tighter, already regretting this entire mission.
Wade, Bayne, and Liam moved through the darkness with practiced precision. Not a word between them, just quick hand gestures that might as well have been ancient hieroglyphics to Alex. Left, right, do the wave, clenched fist. He was half expecting to do the Hokey Pokey at any second.
“Remind me to take the wolf shifter night class when we get back,” Alex whispered, earning a quick finger to the lips from Wade.
“This is officially the worst idea in history,” Alex whispered, trying to keep his voice steady despite the jackhammer pulse in his throat. “Next time I suggest breaking into a murder house, maybe suggest mini golf instead.”
Wade did some elaborate hand-signal conversation with Bayne and Liam. This time it consisted of finger-wiggling and head-nodding that translated roughly to “let’s break into a crime scene like special forces commandos.”
Compared to the wolves, Alex felt like a toddler playing spy games.
Wade crouched by the back window, fingers testing the frame before sliding a thin blade between sash and sill. Breaching the window lock had taken Wade approximately three seconds.
These guys definitely had experience with B&E, which should have been more concerning than comforting.
Liam went first, sliding through the opening with impossible grace for someone his size. Bayne followed.
“After you,” Wade whispered to Alex, who felt about as enthusiastic as someone facing a root canal without anesthesia.
Wade gestured for Alex to go next, keeping watch.
Halfway through the window, something sharp caught Alex’s side, tearing through his shirt and into flesh. He bit down hard on his lip, swallowing the yelp that threatened to escape. Just another perfect moment in this increasingly perfect day.
A rusty nail protruded from the wooden frame, now painted with a fresh streak of crimson. You just can’t stop leaving your DNA in this place.
“You okay?” Wade’s hand steadied him from behind, voice barely audible over the rain.
“Fine,” Alex lied, feeling warm wetness spreading beneath his shirt. “Just my pride taking another hit. Let’s find the wallet and get out of here.”
Right. Because bleeding in a house where you’d previously killed someone was the definition of “fine.”
They moved deeper into the house, past the bedroom where they’d entered, down a narrow hallway.
The kitchen smelled of mildew and cigarettes. Police tape still hung in tatters from the doorway, yellow strips fluttering like macabre party decorations. Alex’s feet carried him automatically toward the living room, where his memory played a highlight reel he’d give anything to delete.
The bloodstain was still there. Dark brown now instead of crimson, a grotesque Rorschach test splattered across the beige carpet.
Drew had fallen there, eyes open but seeing nothing, blood pooling beneath his cracked skull.
The memory hit so vividly that, for a moment, Alex could smell it again, that coppery tang that had filled his nostrils as he’d backed away, phone tumbling from numb fingers.
The pipe was gone. Probably bagged and tagged in an evidence locker somewhere, complete with his fingerprints and DNA. Alex pressed his palm against his injured side, feeling sick.
“Alex…” Wade’s voice, low and close. “Stay with me.”
The room felt suddenly too small, walls pressing in from all sides.
Even the air tasted wrong, stale and thick with dust and the lingering scent of death.
Mold crept up one corner of the ceiling, black fingers reaching across water-stained plaster.
A fly buzzed lazily near the window, the only living thing that seemed at home here.
“Focus,” Wade murmured, appearing beside him. “Where did you last have the wallet?”
Right. The wallet. The entire reason for this suicide mission.
“This was the only room I was in.” Alex swallowed hard. “Must’ve fallen out during the…during what happened.”
Liam lifted the hemorrhaging couch with one hand while Bayne systematically checked the loveseat, lifting cushions and looking under the furniture. The wolves moved like shadows, barely disturbing the air around them.
Twenty minutes of searching yielded nothing but dust, forgotten pennies, and Alex’s increasing desperation. No wallet. No ID. No credit cards or cash or any proof he existed outside this nightmare.
“Cops must have it,” Bayne finally said.
Liam nodded. “Standard procedure. They’d bag anything that might identify victims or suspects.”
The word “suspects” made Alex’s stomach twist. In his mind, his face appeared on wanted posters, police bulletins, the evening news. IDIOT MURDERS LOCAL MAN. Film at eleven.
“If they have my wallet, they have my name,” Alex whispered, panic rising like floodwater. “They’ll be looking for me.”
“We need to go,” Wade said, cutting through Alex’s spiraling thoughts.
A sound from the front porch froze all four of them mid-movement. The unmistakable creak of weathered wood under footsteps. Four heads snapped toward the noise in perfect unison, predator and prey instincts alike screaming danger.
Without a word, Wade pointed toward the bedroom they’d entered through. They moved as one unit, Alex’s heart hammering so loudly he was certain everyone in a five-mile radius could hear it.
Halfway down the hall, another sound froze them in place.
Voices. Coming from the backyard, directly below their escape route.
“Caught between the devil and the deep blue sea,” Alex muttered under his breath. “Except both are wearing badges and carrying handcuffs.”
Wade held up his hand, head tilted in that distinctive way shifters had when listening to something humans couldn’t detect. After a moment, he shook his head. “Not cops,” he mouthed.
Curiosity overcame caution. Alex edged toward the bedroom window, staying low and out of sight. Outside, two figures huddled beneath the overhang, sheltered from the rain. One tall and slim, the other shorter with a baseball cap pulled low, counting bills from a thick roll.
Their voices carried up through the partially open window.
“Fifty for the oxy, hundred for the meth.” A gravelly voice carried through the thin walls. “Price went up after what happened here.”
A drug deal. Just their luck. Alex looked to Wade, whose face had hardened into something dangerous.
“Bullshit,” Baseball Cap replied. “Same price as always or I’m finding another supplier.”
“After that murder here? Place is hot now. Cops crawling all over. Risk costs extra.”
Minutes crawled by, the transaction completed with tense nods. Both men turned away, disappearing into the curtain of rain. Inside, the front door remained mercifully closed. Whoever had been on the porch apparently decided against entering.
Only after complete silence returned did Wade signal it was time to move.
They moved quickly, Liam going first this time then Bayne. Alex followed, careful of the nail that had caught him before. The rain had picked up, fat drops pelting Alex’s face as he landed in mud that sucked at his shoes.
Wade came last, pulling the window mostly closed behind them.
Freedom lasted approximately eight seconds.
“Freeze! Hands where I can see them!”
Two deputies materialized from the side of the house, weapons drawn and aimed. Flashlight beams cut through the rain, pinning them like insects on display boards.
Alex wondered if prison jumpsuits came in his size or if he’d be swimming in orange polyester for the next five to ten years.
“On your knees! All of you!”
Alex’s legs turned to concrete, refusing to obey either the deputies or his own brain’s frantic escape commands. Wade moved first, slowly raising his hands and lowering to his knees. Bayne and Liam followed suit, their expressions carefully neutral.
“Down on the ground!” The deputy’s voice left no room for argument.
Alex finally managed to move, dropping to his knees in mud that soaked immediately through his jeans. Cold handcuffs clicked around his wrists, metal biting into skin.
“Got four of them.” The second deputy spoke into his radio. “Breaking and entering at the Crawford scene. Requesting transport.”
Crawford. Drew’s last name slammed into Alex like a physical blow. Until now, he’d almost managed to pretend this was all happening to someone else.
Wade caught Alex’s eye as he was cuffed, his expression communicating one clear message. Don’t panic.
Too late for that advice.
“This is private property and an active crime scene,” the first deputy recited as he secured Alex’s wrists behind his back. “You’re under arrest for criminal trespass and breaking and entering.”
Alex’s vision tunneled, darkness creeping in at the edges. Crime scene. His crime scene. The place where he’d killed Drew.
“Calling for additional transport,” the second deputy said into his radio. “Four male subjects in custody.”
They were loaded into separate cruisers once the second one arrived, Alex finding himself shoved into the back seat beside Wade, while Bayne and Liam were placed in another vehicle.
The divider between front and back seats made Alex feel caged twice over, collar around his neck and now metal mesh inches from his face.
“They’ll run my prints,” he whispered, voice catching as panic squeezed his lungs. “They’ll connect me to Drew. They’ll know I killed him. They’ll—”
“Breathe,” Wade whispered back. “Just breathe, honey bunny. They don’t know anything yet. Right now we’re just trespassers.”
“Can’t,” he gasped, struggling against the handcuffs. “Can’t b-breathe.”
Wade shifted closer, somehow managing to press his shoulder against Alex’s despite their restraints. “Focus on my voice. In through your nose, out through your mouth. That’s it. Again.”
Alex fought to follow Wade’s instructions. Each breath came ragged and insufficient, like trying to suck air through a coffee stirrer.
Then his lungs refused to expand any further, his throat closing as if invisible hands were squeezing it shut until the cruiser, Wade, everything faded to a pinpoint of light in an ocean of darkness.
“Alex!” Wade’s voice seemed to come from miles away. “Stay with me!”
Darkness swallowed him whole.