“You should call him,” Heath said softly.
“He could have called me too.” He knew he sounded like the petulant child Avery had accused him of being, but damn, why was he always expected to fold when things got tough?
“You know”—Heath’s voice took on a far-off quality as he gave Dylan his profile—“relationships aren’t easy. Ever.” When Heath sighed, Dylan felt it like a physical weight. “Maybe it’s not the easiest thing to do, to admit defeat, but talking to the person you love most in the world and listening to what they have to say will be the deciding factor in a stable relationship. It’s about compromise. There’s nothing you’ll regret more than not working it out.” When he lifted his head to meet Dylan’s gaze, a bitter smile rose on his lips. “Call him, Dylan. Stop going to bed angry and alone.”
After dropping his wisdom, Heath stepped across the small office space and placed the remaining beer on Dylan’s desk. Then without another word or backward glance, he walked away. Moments later Dylan heard the distinct click and bells signaling the customer door had been opened and shut. There was a story behind Heath’s words—Dylan was sure of it—but Dylan didn’t have the strength to worry about it. Even if he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be welcomed to ask. Maybe someday, but for now, he had his own shit to worry about.
He wanted nothing more than to hear Avery’s voice and hold him in his arms at that moment. Talking to him, listening, compromising—Dylan got that. He just wasn’t ready for it quite yet. So he reached for another beer.
IT TOOK
some work to figure out the address to Warren’s cabin. Sven had been too distracted to pay attention to house numbers or street names when he’d followed Warren out there, and then even more distraught when he fled back to Portland after seeing Warren with that woman. He told Avery he’d been crying and gotten lost three times until he finally forced himself to pull over and think. And to turn on his GPS.
After hours’ worth of digging, Avery discovered the cabin was actually owned by Warren’s company, Harting Shipping & Logistics. He’d probably written it off as some employee retreat location. Ha. Avery was willing to bet he was the only one who’d ever stepped inside, besides the people he brought there to fuck.
Avery decided he’d drive out to the cabin the following day—after making sure Warren wouldn’t be showing up to take him by surprise. He followed Warren around in Reid’s nondescript Camry, and once Warren had disappeared into the office at the shipping yard, he got onto I-84 and headed east.
The ride took an hour and forty-five minutes. After Avery had identified the cabin, he parked in the woods not far away and went back on foot. Given what he’d experienced of Warren, he expected something huge and ostentatious, but the cabin was actually small and rather charming. There were several windows on the ground floor without any curtains to obscure the view. Avery peered inside, seeing rustic furnishings and airy, open space. It appeared there was a loft above the main level, which was where he assumed some of the bedrooms were. At the back of the cabin, he found a cement patio, a fire pit, and a deck with a covered hot tub.
It looked… well, normal. Disappointingly so. Nothing like the BDSM dungeon he’d expected. Avery snorted at himself. Maybe that was in the basement. Or more likely, it was probably just a rec room or a laundry area or a combination of both.
Lifting his head, he tested the air. He could smell other animals—natural ones—and beneath Warren’s strong, distinctive scent, he thought he caught a whiff of another shifter breed, but his nose wasn’t good enough to differentiate and identify it. Might’ve been remnants of Sven from yesterday for all he could tell, though it didn’t smell familiar. And there was a possibility of other shifters living in the area too.
In the end, Avery took some pictures and debated the pros and cons of trying to break in. A sticker on a window near the front door warned of a security system. Might be a bluff, but the last thing he needed was to set it off. He decided the risk wasn’t worth the potential benefit, and with one last long look, he trekked back to the car and started for Portland.
BY THE
time he reached the city and picked up food for him and Reid, it was after two. He helped Reid with a few tasks, then headed back out to the Harting shipping yard. He parked far enough away to spy with a pair of Reid’s high-powered binoculars, finally feeling the part of private investigator as he took the lead on the first case he’d accepted on his own. Reid knew about it, of course, but after four months of training, he’d agreed it was time for Avery to branch out a bit.
Warren’s car sat near the office. As far as Avery could tell, it hadn’t moved since that morning. And it didn’t budge for another three hours after Avery arrived.
During the wait, he inspected the area as best he could from his vantage point. The sign posted near the entrance to the yard was huge and ostentatious. The logo was a snarling grizzly bear, which made Avery snort. Pretty ballsy for a shifter to so blatantly advertise his animal half. Not that any humans would suspect from something so simple, but it said a lot about Warren’s arrogance.
Avery considered texting Dylan several times. He even typed up a message and then deleted it. He missed his mate—Dylan’s voice, his smell, everything. But if Dylan asked what he was doing, Avery would admit he was on a stakeout, and with how they’d left things a few days ago, it would probably cause yet another fight. He didn’t have the willpower for it. Not right then at least. So he used spying on Warren for Sven as a distraction from his own relationship woes.
Warren exited the building just after sunset. Even from a distance, he looked huge and intimidating. His entire car appeared to dip several inches when he settled inside, and Avery idly wondered about his weight. Maybe two-fifty if Avery had to guess and all of it muscle. Dylan would seem downright svelte by comparison.
Avery trailed Warren as he stopped at the grocery store and then headed to his sprawling, modern house in Linnton. The property was heavily wooded and secluded. Avery cruised past the turn for the long driveway and parked down the road to keep it in sight. He only dared linger because of the darkness. This was the type of neighborhood in which a guy lurking in a car wouldn’t go unnoticed. He didn’t want the cops to show up because he’d been reported as a suspicious character.
Avery stayed until around eleven. Apparently Warren was taking a night off from getting his cock serviced. More’s the pity. Avery would’ve loved to be able to present Sven with some pictures the next morning, but it looked like there’d be at least one more day of work ahead of him.
After firing up the car, Avery checked his mirrors and pulled out onto the street. He waited until he reached the intersection to turn the headlights on. Then he started toward Jaden’s condo downtown. He called once to see if Jaden wanted to join him for a late-night meal. No answer. Well, Jaden had to work tomorrow. He might be in bed already. Avery opted for a quick pit stop at a drive-thru instead of finding a sit-down restaurant. He scarfed down a bean and veggie burrito and finally pulled into the garage next to Jaden’s building just before midnight. Reid wouldn’t mind him keeping the Camry overnight.
When he got to Jaden’s door, he knew something was wrong. It stood ajar, but Jaden never left it unlocked, let alone open. Ever.
Avery nudged it with the toe of his shoe, his pulse jumping at the creak as it swung inward. He didn’t want to risk touching the surface or the knob itself in case of possible fingerprints.
Inside, the place looked like it had been hit by a cyclone. Jaden’s possessions lay scattered and broken. Not a single valuable item remained intact.
Avery gaped at the scene, horror-struck. He understood how Jaden’s open door might go unnoticed. His was the last condo in the corridor, farthest away from the elevator. Someone would have to bypass their own place to get to his. Yet why hadn’t the noise been reported? Avery knew these condos were heavily soundproofed, but this level of destruction would’ve caused a considerable racket. Why hadn’t the police or even security been notified?
Avery tentatively stepped across the threshold. He drew in a deep breath, trying to pinpoint a scent aside from Jaden’s. He caught a faint hint of a shifter—wolf. No one he recognized. Jaden’s smell had long since saturated into every available surface and fiber, but it wasn’t as intense as it should’ve been, which meant he wasn’t home. The thought brought both relief and dread. It meant Avery wasn’t about to stumble across his dead body—the idea of which made Avery’s stomach plummet to his toes—but if Jaden wasn’t in the condo, then where the hell was he?
Nothing in the place appeared to be missing—except for Jaden himself.
Avery tore his phone from his pocket and dialed Jaden again. From the bedroom came the song Jaden had assigned as Avery’s ringtone.
He gulped and moved slowly toward the doorway, his heart racing in a trip-hammer rhythm. He couldn’t smell the cloying stench of death or decay; that didn’t mean he wasn’t terrified of what he might find.
All that greeted him was another mess, and Jaden’s cell lying on the floor near the foot of the bed.
Avery slumped against the doorjamb and stared. A red smudge stained the white of Jaden’s phone case. Blood.
He ended the call on his end with a careless swipe of his thumb, knowing it would be recording a silent voice mail. Or maybe not silent. His panting breaths sounded like bellows in his ears.
God. Oh God.
Jaden was gone. Someone had taken him, and not easily. He’d been hurt in the process.
OhGodohGodohGod.
Panic swept over him, his skin prickling with the threat of a stress shift. A scream built in his throat.
This was his fault. It was too much of a coincidence for Jaden to be gone, and on the very day Avery had been following Warren. Had Warren spotted him? Had he snuck off somehow while Avery sat down the road from his house? Avery didn’t smell the pungent odor of bear shifter. That proved nothing. Warren could’ve hired some underling to do the job for him. But why? Would he really go to these lengths to stop Avery from proving his infidelity to Sven? It wasn’t as if Sven hadn’t already seen it with his own eyes. He only wanted confirmation.
Of course, there was no proof this had anything to do with Warren. Avery might be jumping to conclusions, desperate and reaching for answers as he was. Jaden didn’t have any enemies, but lately Avery had been accumulating them in droves. Both Victor and Snowflake had to be pissed about getting visits from Ribeiro. Not to mention anyone who might know about Avery’s contact with Joel—if there had indeed been someone else behind his supposed suicide.
Where would Avery even start looking? Any number of people might have been watching, waiting to strike him where it hurt most—his loved ones.
Loved ones.
He gasped and jerked upright.
Dylan!
All day he’d waffled about calling or texting his mate and now…. What if they had Dylan too? Dylan wouldn’t go down without a fight. What if he’d been hurt? What if he’d been
killed
?
Avery bolted from the condo and was halfway down the hall before he remembered leaving the door open. He dashed back to make sure it was closed and secure, using his sleeve as a makeshift glove before touching the knob. Whoever had broken in thankfully hadn’t damaged the lock. He could at least ensure the place remained undisturbed until he decided his next step.
That done, Avery raced to the stairwell, uncaring of the seven flights he’d have to descend. He had no patience to wait for the elevator.
While pounding down the stairs, he found Dylan’s contact on his favorites list and dialed, stumbling and nearly falling in his distraction. With shaky hands and a crashing, tumbling heart, he lifted the phone to his ear.
As the tone rang, he sent out a prayer to anyone who might be out there listening.
Please pick up. Please be okay. Please be safe. Please.
WET ROADS,
he could deal with. The pounding of his heart, a mix of both his and Avery’s panic, had him trembling and nauseated. He raced through the streets toward downtown, taking corners too sharp and fishtailing a couple of times. Dylan inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm himself. It wouldn’t do Avery or him any good if he wrecked.
“Dylan! Oh God, Dylan,” Avery had gasped when Dylan had answered the phone, before Dylan could get a word out. He sounded both terrified and relieved at once. “You’re okay.”
Confusion and the need to protect Avery from whatever was haunting him beat out Dylan’s own bout of ease at hearing his mate’s voice.
He’d intended to call Avery after leaving the shop last night but had come to the conclusion that drunk dialing was probably not the best choice. Even though with his metabolism he’d burned off his buzz long before he’d hoofed it to his own front door. Cowardly was what he was. It had taken all day and multiple times clutching his phone and staring at it before he’d gained the courage to call. No sooner had he made the decision than his cell was ringing in his hand, Avery’s name flashing across the screen.
All hurts and misunderstandings were put behind them as soon as Avery’s terrified voice called out to him.
Easing off the accelerator, Dylan coasted onto Burnside with a quick right onto Park. He slammed on the brakes when Avery dashed from one of the darkened doorways in front of Glyph. Double-parking wasn’t an immediate concern as he jumped out of the car and rounded it in time to catch Avery in his arms.
“Dylan,” Avery sobbed, burying his face in his neck. His slender frame shook uncontrollably in Dylan’s hold.
A mixture of relief and trepidation gripped him, denying him the ability to release Avery, even if he’d wanted to. “Avery.” He breathed into his mate’s skin, soaking in the scent he’d been denied for days. Something in his chest unraveled at the rightness of Avery in his arms. Being separated from him for even a night was too long because Avery was and always would be his home.