Across the parking lot, Gentry and Blaire were running toward ten-ten, and Asher was jogging down his porch steps toward them, clad in a pair of gray sweatpants and no shirt.
Rhett got out of his truck with a vile grin on his face, his eyes flashing too bright. Mila snarled as he strode up to the porch. That was a new reaction, and it startled her enough to make her jump and squeeze onto Roman’s hand tighter behind his back.
“What do you want?” Roman ground out.
Rhett rested a boot on the bottom step and twirled a pair of handcuffs around his index finger. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Hal Dunmar.”
“Who?” Roman asked.
“The hunter you killed in the woods.”
Roman glanced up at the porch rafters with a humorless huff of breath and then back to Rhett. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You’re gonna pin your kill on me?”
Fury flashed through Rhett’s eyes, and he looked back at the two human officers approaching. Before they were within hearing range, he looked right at Roman and snarled his lip up before he said, “I sure am. Told you to stay away from her.” He straightened his spine and smiled brightly. And then he began reading Roman his rights as Rhett made his way up the stairs.
“No, no, no, you can’t arrest him,” Mila said, maneuvering between Roman and Rhett. “He didn’t do anything.”
“He murdered a hunter in cold blood, Mila. He needs to be punished.”
“You did that—”
“Stop talking.” Power blasted through Rhett’s words, and Mila choked on her argument. Every time she tried to get a word out, it stole her breath away.
“What’s going on?” Gentry asked.
The police officer closest to the middle Striker brother strong-armed him in the chest. “Stay back. All of you, stay back.” He jammed a finger at Blaire and Asher. “Back off.”
Asher promptly ignored him and shoved right through him. And then he pushed through the other one, too, as Roman told Rhett, “Stop that fucking order. She can’t breathe.”
“She could if she stopped talking!” Rhett was letting his control slip in front of his deputies. “I don’t know how she’s here with you right now, I don’t know what you’ve done to her, but you’ll pay for that, too. There are rules, Mila!” he screamed in her face, his cheeks going red and veins popping out of his neck.
Roman hit him so fast she barely had time to get out of the way. They went to the ground, but Rhett hadn’t been prepared for Roman’s fury and ended up on bottom with Roman holding his shirt and blasting him across the jaw over and over in a blur.
Mila rushed forward, but Asher was already there pulling his brother off Rhett, who was now laughing like a maniac. “Assaulting a police officer. I knew you were stupid, Striker, but not that stupid.”
Roman lunged at him again, but Asher held him back and demanded, “Stop it, Roman. It won’t help anything. He’s baiting you. Stop!” That last word had heavy power to it, like Rhett’s words. They had the same effect on Roman, too, because he stopped struggling and looked like he was about to go to his knees. With a grunt, he exposed his neck to the eldest Striker brother, whose eyes were way too light right now and whose face was snarled up like a demon’s. Asher was telling Roman something with his eyes, some warning, and when he closed and reopened them again, they were human blue instead of wolf silver. The amount of control over the wolf it must have taken to do that made Mila draw up and realize she didn’t know Asher anymore. But she knew enough to be frightened of him.
Gentry and Blaire were up on the porch now, standing beside Asher and Roman, and Mila stepped forward beside her mate. She shook like a leaf and couldn’t lift her eyes from the ground as Rhett stood up, but she didn’t back down either, and that was something big for her.
Roman made her feel stronger.
The three police officers stood across the porch, Rhett at the helm, furious eyes zeroed in on Roman. “Get in the fucking truck, Striker, or I’ll have every precinct within a fifty-mile radius here to watch you resist arrest. We’ll just add it to your pile of fuck-ups.”
Roman’s chest was heaving, and he made the air feel heavy, but when he looked down at Mila, his eyes were softer. “Stay here with Gentry and Asher.”
“No, Roman, you can’t. You didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Stay here where it’s safe. They’ll keep you protected,” he murmured as he stepped toward Rhett.
Rhett was too rough on him putting on the handcuffs, and Mila rushed him, ready to rip his throat out. “I hate you!” she screamed as Asher caught her by the waist and settled her near Blaire. Again and again, Mila tried to get to Rhett, but Blaire was helping hold her back now, too. Mila sobbed. “Why can’t you just let me have one thing?” she asked Rhett. “Why can’t I have anything! Why do you have to keep me unhappy?”
“Because you’re mine!” Rhett screamed, voice echoing through the hills.
“What?” Jake, one of the human officers, asked. He was frowning and was looking from face to face. “Rhett, what’s going on. Mila don’t belong to anyone.”
“Get in your car,” Rhett ground out, shoving Roman down the stairs so hard he barely stayed upright.
Roman had his head down, but his muscles strained against his thin T-shirt, and his frozen breath chugged in front of him. As he was pushed into the back of the truck, one flash of his blinding gold eyes said he could very well be found out at the precinct. Shit.
Mila shoved away from Asher and chased the police cars that peeled out of the lot. “We have to do something!” she sobbed, wrapping her arms around her stomach in an attempt to keep from breaking apart. Her wolf howled to rip out of her and chase them.
“We’ll have to talk to Terry Grant. He was dad’s lawyer. He’ll know what to do,” Asher said in a gruff voice, his eyes on the disappearing headlights.
“You don’t understand,” Mila said, warm tears streaking down her cheeks. “This is what happened to the pack members who disappeared. Rhett would pin something awful on them, and we would never see them again. And Asher, I’ve been searching for them. They aren’t in the prison systems. They’re just…gone!” Her breath hitched as she ripped her gaze away from the shock on the Strikers’ faces and watched the cars disappear behind the snow-covered trees.
Now Roman—her Roman—was gone, too.
Chapter Thirteen
In the driver’s seat, Rhett wiped the blood from his split lip with the back of his hand. The movement made his collar shift to the side to show the red, angry scars where Gentry had damn near beheaded Rhett the night they’d come for him and Blaire. It looked awful, like his shifter healing wasn’t working. Good. Roman hoped the pain kept him up at nights.
“You smell sick,” Roman observed as he leaned back as well as he could with his hands cuffed painfully behind him. “You smell weak. Must be hard to hold the pack like that.”
“I’m holding the pack just fine, Striker. And most importantly of all, Mila. Did you see her bow to my command? While you rot in jail, I’ll be fucking her relentlessly. You’ve caused some problems with obedience, but I’ll bring my alpha female back around. I’ll fix her.”
Fury pounded through Roman’s veins, and the edges of his vision tinted red. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on steadying his breathing. Inhale, exhale, don’t kill that mother fucker. How tempting it was to blast through the glass that separated them and finish Rhett with nothing but his teeth. But Asher was right. Rhett had baited him by getting in Mila’s face, and Roman had lost it. Lost control. Lost his mind with the instinct to protect her. He’d given them more reason to arrest him.
“I have big plans for you, Striker. I thought I would sell Gentry first, but you’ve earned my hate so much more. You tainted Mila, and because of that, I’m going to ruin your entire life. I’m going to make you wish you’d never laid eyes on her. It’ll be a brutal death for you. One that makes you hate every breath you breathe and beg for the end.”
Sell Gent
ry? Roman narrowed his eyes at the back of Rhett’s head. What the fuck was he talking about?
He’d never been afraid of death. The ghosts around him made him realize things about death that others didn’t understand. Death wasn’t the end. It was just a pit stop to something different. But now he had Mila, and suddenly, the thought of dying was unacceptable. Not for him. But because, as long as Mila lived, he wanted to be here to protect her always.
“Why did you kill that hunter, Rhett?”
“Because he was nosey, because I saw him setting a wolf-trap in my territory, and because it was fun. And if you’re trying to get me to confess on camera,” he gritted out, pointing at the mounted lens on the front window, “the audio doesn’t work. I’m a smarter wolf than you in every way, Striker. Always was. You were jokes. You were the dumb jock all the girls fell over themselves to fuck. I was the one in the shadows, working the pack like a chess game until I could take the throne.”
“Steal the throne,” Roman ground out. “Don’t pretend you won alpha in a challenge, you fucking vermin. I know you murdered my dad, human, in the woods, like a fucking coward.”
“Bottom Bitch has been talking about things she was ordered not to.”
“Well, I guess that means she’s not your Bottom Bitch. You’re losing control of your chess pieces, Rhett. Can you feel us? I wonder if you could feel us breathing down the back of your neck. Gentry would love nothing more than to finish that rip-job on your throat. I’ve never seen Asher care about a person one way or the other, but when we talk about you, he looks like a fucking blood-thirsty demon. Blaire, Odine, Mila…and then there’s me, Rhett. I won’t be forgetting the shit you’ve done to this town, to my family, to my mate—”
“My mate!”
Roman smiled because he couldn’t help himself. Who was easily riled up now? Rhett was like a spoiled child with a bag of candy he couldn’t finish but didn’t want to share. Tantrums when someone threatened to take it away.
Rhett spun his tires and skidded across a lane as he turned too sharply into the small police station at the edge of town. Red had crept up his neck, and even his ears were the color of cherries now. So angry. Roman had a temper, too, but right now he was checking Rhett for weaknesses.
Rhett locked up the brakes as he skidded into a parking spot, then pulled out his phone. He connected a call. “I’ve got another one for you. A big one. Brawler. Dominant. When can you come get him?” Rhett stared out the side window and waved off one of the deputies that was approaching the truck. “I don’t fuckin’ know, Anderson. You asked for a big one. I’m delivering. He’s one of the Strikers… Yeah, the mother fuckin’ Strikers, Noah’s bloodline… Are you serious right now? I’m telling you I have a Striker, and you’re telling me you can’t get him until the morning? I’m not sitting on him for an entire night! Come get him, or I’ll be bringing him to you myself. And trust me when I say you don’t want me inconvenienced right now. I want a bigger cut, too… Nope. Higher.” Rhett snarled loudly into the phone. A few seconds later, he gritted out, “Better. I’ll see you tonight.”
Whatever this was, it wasn’t about locking Roman up for that hunter’s death. It wasn’t about ruining his record, or dragging this out in trial. Rhett was dumb, but not dumb enough to send a werewolf to prison. The first Change behind bars would out their entire species. No, Roman wouldn’t be shipped off to prison. Rhett was doing something awful. Selling wolves? For what?
Roman stared out the window, his thoughts racing. He could break out of here with little effort, but he was right on the cusp of what Rhett had really been doing to the pack and to the town. If he ran, he’d look guilty of killing that hunter, but worse than that, he’d have to leave Mila. She was bound, and he would be on the lam.
And right now, he didn’t want to run. He wanted to see this through. He wanted to gather every bit of ammunition he could against Rhett and destroy not only him, but any legacy of terror he’d left in Rangeley. The wolf inside of him was so curious to what was actually going on here he couldn’t move to break the glass even if he tried.
He had to know. Even if it hurt, he had to find out why Dad had been killed, why the pack had rolled over for Rhett, why Mila was so scared of the people she used to consider friends.
The Wolves of Winter’s Edge couldn’t fix this town unless Roman found out what was really going on here.
Chapter Fourteen
“Two days.” Mila glared at Nick, the officer at the front desk. “Two days, and you won’t even let me see him? It’s not right. He didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Mila, I understand you’re upset,” he said low, a warning flashing in his eyes. “But I can’t let you back there.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s not up to me on this one.”
“Then I’ll wait,” Mila said, voice shaking. Gentry and Asher were outside, but they’d told her to make it happen this time, no matter what. She was the only one who knew Nick and the other officers in this town. She had the rapport, and Nick had shut down the Strikers hard when they’d tried to visit Roman. It was on her to make sure Roman was okay in here.
Stubbornly, she plopped down in one of the two black, plastic chairs against the wall, directly across from Nick’s desk. Mila narrowed her eyes at him. She was fully prepared to pull this staring contest for the next dozen hours if she had to.
Nick tried to work for a while, but she could tell he was uncomfortable under her gaze. Felt nice. Usually she couldn’t hold her gaze on anything without having to look at the floor, but things had been a-changin’ since Roman had blown into town and turned her world upside down. Now she was pissed, scared for him, and protective as hell over the man she’d adored all those years ago and now loved deeply.
“I’m thirsty,” she announced.
Nick was filling out paperwork, but at her complaint, he rolled his eyes closed in irritation and sighed heavily. “Do you want some water?”
“Yes.”
“Then get some.” He gestured to the blue jug on the stand. There were paper cone cups, but the jug was empty. She’d made sure before she mentioned being thirsty.
“I would if there was any water in there. My throat is parched.” She coughed delicately, but Nick narrowed his eyes. Perhaps that was going too far above her acting ability, so she swallowed it down and huffed a sigh. “Shall I eat some snow then?” she asked testily.
“Dammit, Mila,” he muttered as he stood and strode down a hallway and out of sight. She could hear him returning in a rush, though, so she feigned boredom as he peeked his head around the corner. “Don’t move.” And then he disappeared down the hallway again.
That little command would’ve worked if he was her alpha, but Nick was human, and she wasn’t in the mood to mind rules right now. Not after two mother-freaking days of worrying senseless about Roman rotting in that jail cell.
Mila bolted for the desk she’d seen him put his keys, grabbed the ring, then ran for the door at the back of the room. There were at least a dozen keys, but she got it on the third and sprinted down a long hallway to a trio of cells at the end. All were empty. Empty, empty, empty. Mila paced, running her fingers through her hair and gripping her locks. Where the fuck was he?
“Hey!” Nick yelled from down the hallway. “You can’t be back there.”
“He’s not even here! Nick, what the fuck? Where is he?”
Nick was jogging toward her, but he didn’t look mad. He looked worried, and when he got close enough, she could smell it—the bitter scent of fear.
“Mila, you have to leave. Rhett will be back soon—”
“Nick, you know me. You’ve known me for a long time. I’m a good person, an honest one, and I’m telling you, Roman had nothing to do with that hunter’s death.”
“I know,” Nick said on a breath. He scanned the hallway behind him and gripped her shoulders. “Mila, I know. I know what you are, what Roman is, what half the damn town is. Rhett…he’s not careful. Someone in a black SUV came and picked up Roman
a few hours after he was brought in. I have no idea where he is and have no way of finding out. Rhett told us not to talk about it. Everything is so— Mila, I have a family.”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear it, Nick. Roman is my family, and now he’s God-knows-where, and you covered for that monster.”
She shoved past him, bumping his shoulder hard. Mila’s eyes burned with tears, but she blinked them back because they were out of time. If Roman was still alive…
God, she couldn’t think like that. He was. He was still alive. She just had to figure out how to find him. Her heart was drumming hard against her sternum as she shoved the door open. The cold winter wind hit her face and stole her breath away. The boys were waiting by Asher’s truck, leaned on the bed, arms crossed, but the second she hit the sidewalk and started jogging toward them, they shoved off Asher’s ride and both muttered curses, as if they could tell from the panic on her face what had happened.
“He’s not in there. He’s not in there!”
“Shhh,” Gentry said, hugging her up tight.
She felt trapped, though. These weren’t the arms she wanted. They weren’t the ones that would tell her with an embrace everything would be okay. Everything was not okay! She eased back and paced, shaking her hands out as she tried to think. “Nick said a black SUV picked Roman up a few hours after he arrived here. That means he’s been out of Rangeley for two days. Two days!”
Asher was a stone. The only thing that moved were his eyes as he tracked her progress back and forth over the empty parking spot. “I think it’s time to see Odine.”
“Whaaat the fuck, Asher?” Gentry asked. “No. We need to find Roman, not play with whatever evil she’s wielding.”