Two Minutes (Seven Series Book 6) (30 page)
“How much money does Austin have in the pack funds? You do all the finances for everyone, so I know you know.”
“Why would you ask something like that?”
I moved away so I could look at him. My eyes watered from the bright sun and I squinted. “Because we might be able to pay to get him out, but I don’t know how much money we have.”
“Austin has liquid assets, but he’s also made investments.”
“What kind of investments?”
Wheeler rubbed the side of his face, staring up at a passing car. “The two Sweet Treats locations, loans, and some other property. He’d do anything for Denver, but that’s a lot to consider. Selling everything we own.”
“We could start over.”
He barked out a laugh. “That’ll be rich. Moving back in the old house. Real cozy. That ain’t where your head should be at. I’ve heard of money exchanges for prisoners. If they allow it, which I doubt, then it’ll be substantial. Something Austin can’t afford. We’re a new pack, Maizy. We’re doing real good, but not
that
good. He’ll work something out.”
“But what if he doesn’t?”
Wheeler jumped down and spit out his gum. A hawk flew overhead and distracted us both for a moment with its piercing cry. “Then maybe we bust his ass out.”
Wheeler would be the one to do it, but nobody could get near a Breed jail, and we both knew that.
When I put my hands on the bed of the truck, the metal had already heated up from the sun. “Do you think Denver will ever…?” Suddenly I felt strange discussing my love life with Wheeler.
He stepped close to give me some shade. “He’d die for you.”
“I know he loves me. I just don’t know if he’s willing to be my permanent life mate. He’s never been the kind of guy to settle down. How do I know what we have is something that will grow—that will last?”
Wheeler wiped his forehead with the palm of his hand and stared at a squirrel racing up a tree. “That’s something I can’t answer. Only Denver can give you the answer to your questions. Sounds like you’re looking for something more than what he’s already given you—
proof
that he loves you. Am I right?”
I shrugged. Sex confused things, and so did being connected with someone for so many years. Maybe knowing the truth about where our future was headed would help me make the right decision.
Wheeler gripped my hand and pulled me down so he could lift the tailgate. After he slammed it shut, we got in the truck, and he let the engine run for a minute while the air conditioner cooled things down. “I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe it’s something you just feel in your heart, like I did with Naya. No matter how difficult that woman can be or how many times she snaps at me, I know she loves me unconditionally. Did you ever think maybe Denver has his own doubts about your feelings? Tell you what. I’ll give Austin a call and tell him what’s up so he can get us on the list.”
“What list?”
He put the truck in gear. “Let’s take a trip to jail.”
I’d heard stories about Breed jails.
In big cities, they were often built in desolate areas of town, protected by Vampires and other Breeds. If a human got too close, a Vampire would scrub their memory of the place. I’d never been to the one in Austin, and because we had a lot of land down south, this one was located on the outskirts of the city.
“What’s with all the warning signs?” I asked as Wheeler continued down the dirt road. We passed a second one that cautioned about venomous snakes in the area.
Wheeler chuckled darkly. “Most humans are scared of snakes.”
“News flash. I’m a Shifter and I’m scared of snakes.”
“For a couple of years they had a warning sign about rabies, but someone called the city and it was a mess. Sometimes humans ignore property lines and go snooping—mostly teenagers. Last year they planted poison oak around the outer perimeters.”
“Don’t they have guards?”
“Yep. But the guards have to lie low until someone gets close enough to capture. Can’t have them getting away or they might make up some shit about Bigfoot or military secrets going on out here. The higher authority spent a lot of money digging steep trenches and planting vines to make it impassable. Unless someone wants a broken leg and itchy ass, they’re probably not going to wander in too deep.”
“Why are they so concerned about someone creeping around the woods when they have a road leading all the way in?”
He laughed and switched off the radio. “Sometimes you get a hunter coming in from the north side; not everyone sees the only road leading in. Most people don’t walk down dirt roads that lead deep into the woods, but they sure don’t mind creeping around
in
the woods to get a closer look. Anyhow, if they get close enough to reach the first gate, the guard will scrub their memory and send them on their merry way.”
The first checkpoint was a rusty gate no higher than the front end of the truck. When the guard called in to verify our names, he simply lifted the gate and walked it open. He didn’t dress like a guard but looked more like a country bumpkin in his plaid shirt and dirty jeans. After we passed, he resumed sitting on one of the posts, puffing away on his cigarette.
“Were you serious about breaking Denver—”
With alarming speed, Wheeler snapped his arm out and covered my mouth with his hand. “Let’s talk more when we get past the next
Vampire
guard.”
I’d seen Vampires but hadn’t personally known any. Wheeler was reminding me that Vampires had impeccable hearing, and if he chose to listen in on our conversation, he might suspect we were about to perform the impossible task of breaking Denver out. Wheeler might have half been joking when he’d suggested it, but I’d quietly been considering how far blood brothers would go for one another. Austin had a responsibility as a Packmaster, but Denver was his blood, and I knew he wasn’t going to give up without a fight.
Which scared me. Saving one of their own could cost them everything, including their freedom.
When we reached the facility, there was nothing to see except a small cabin.
“Are you sure we’re at the right place?”
Wheeler scraped his teeth against his bottom lip. “Stick close to me. I never did trust the law.”
I smirked and opened my door. “Funny you should say that since Naya has a thing for men in uniform.”
“She gets plenty of that in the bedroom.”
I held up my hand. “Too much information.”
Wheeler spoke with the man standing at the door while I lingered on the wooden steps, soaking in my rustic surroundings. The only logical place to keep the jail was underground, and it was spooky to think some of the most notorious criminals were down there. When a spider crawled past my hand, I snapped my arm back from the wood beam and joined Wheeler’s side.
And then we were inside an elevator, traveling down.
I gripped Wheeler’s hand, and if he couldn’t tell I was nervous from my silence, he sure could from my sweaty palm. “Has anyone ever gotten stuck in here?”
The guard laughed and leaned against the wall, pulling a small plastic container of breath mints from his shirt pocket. “Do you really want to know?”
The elevator slowed to a stop. When the doors opened, a cold blast of air made me shiver. I cupped my elbows and cringed as a few heads turned at the sound of my flip-flops smacking against the polished white floor. The jail was plain and sterile—no pictures or color on the walls. Just a few desks and several rooms with glass windows that looked like personal offices… or holding tanks.
When we reached the end of the short hall, the guard passed us off to a woman at a desk. She was slightly overweight and had her light brown hair pulled into a massive bun. After we signed a document, they searched us. They didn’t seem concerned with things like Wheeler’s keys or the pen in my purse. I guess they were looking for other types of contraband, such as stunners that could incapacitate a Mage.
“Come this way,” the guard said in a husky voice.
After moving through two doors that required a security-badge swipe, we entered a narrow hall with a door on either end. She opened the one on the right.
Inside, a man looked away from a security monitor and stood up. “Have they been searched?”
She glared at him. “Do I look like I sit around scratching my ass all day?”
“You certainly were last Thursday.”
“Bite me, Robert.” With a quick spin, she turned around and left the room.
Robert looked in his forties, but you could never tell a Breed’s true age. “Stay in the center; some of them might have shifted to animal form. We keep the panthers chained, but not the rest.”
I shuddered.
Wheeler grumbled a few obscenities as we headed down a long hall with cells on the left and right. Wheeler popped his knuckles a few times and looked uncomfortable as he flicked a glance inside each room. The guard stopped when we reached the last cell on the right.
“I’ll be in the room if you need me. Just yell or wave at the security camera in the corner.”
When he turned away, I gripped the bars and looked into the dark cell. “Denver?”
He was sprawled out on a mattress with a pillow over the back of his head. He tossed it to the floor and rubbed his eyes, struggling to sit up. “Huh?” It took a moment for him to recognize his surroundings, but when he saw us, he scrambled out of the bed and rushed to the bars, gripping them.
“How are they treating you in here?” Wheeler asked.
“Peach cobbler and ice cream every hour on the hour,” he said sarcastically.
I pointed at his jeans with the frayed ends. “I see they let you keep your clothes.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Because if I’m put to death, what the hell does it matter what I’m wearing?”
I grimaced and looked away, resting my cheek against my arm. I felt his hand cover mine around the bars and he began chatting to Wheeler.
“I talked with Aus. He doesn’t think he can get me out, and he’s pissed.”
“Yeah, but he’s not pissed at you,” Wheeler said on a sigh.
I stared at the floor, my hair obscuring my face. I listened to their conversation, unable to join in. I hadn’t realized how hard it would be to see him here.
“The grub here sucks,” Denver joked. “You need to bring me some Doritos.”
“If I bring ’em, then I’ll have to buy enough for all your buddies on the cell block.”
“True that.”
They laughed.
“Can you give us a minute, bro?” Denver asked.
It sounded as though Wheeler patted him on the shoulder, and then I listened to his footsteps grow distant as he walked to the far end of the hall.
“Look at me,” Denver urged. “Please?”
I didn’t want him to see me crying.
“Come on, Peanut. You didn’t come all this way to admire the floor, did you?”
I snorted out a laugh and looked up. Denver reached through the bars and studiously wiped my cheeks. I sniffed and dried my face with the sleeve of my T-shirt. Denver watched, pressing his forehead against the bars.
“This is my fault,” I said.
“Really? So you pushed me into Bromus and beat me until my wolf came out and killed him?”
I gripped the bars. “Don’t make jokes. It’s hard for me to be serious when you do that.”
He smirked. “Making jokes is what I do best.”
“Do you think Austin can settle with Bromus’s pack and have them talk to the Council on our behalf?”
He twisted his mouth in deep consideration. “I got a look at his pack, and they may not give a rat’s ass that Bromus is six feet under, but the Council does. They don’t like wolves rising up against Packmasters. It sets an example. If you kill all the alphas, you’re left with chaos. A pack won’t survive without one, no matter how strong the leader. Plus, without an alpha Packmaster, they’re not official. The Council will consider them rogues, and they won’t be able to buy any Breed land. His pack can tell the Council they don’t care, but it won’t make a difference.”
“Why couldn’t you just walk away?”
He smiled ruefully. “I’ll never walk away where you’re concerned. Look, I’ve always wanted the best for you. So if you want to hook up with Prince, then you do whatever makes you happy. I still think he’s a fucker, but—”
“What if giving myself to him would set you free?”
His jaw set. “Don’t even think about it.”
I hadn’t really entertained the thought, but part of me wanted to know what Denver would think. “Then stop planning my future as if you’re not going to be in it,” I said angrily.
Denver shifted his stance and reached high to hold the bars. His biceps were taut, straining from the weight of his body as he sagged. His eyes traveled down until his chest rocked with quiet laughter. “I can’t believe you kept that old thing.”
He pressed his face against his arm and sighed heavily. “It shouldn’t be this damn hard.”
“Wheeler thinks we can bust you out.”
This time he really laughed, letting go of the bars and holding his knees until the laughter died in the back of his throat. Denver stood up and paced around the room like a caged animal. He finally turned to face me, arms outstretched. “Let’s hear the master plan. Two feet of concrete on both sides, and you saw all the security. Guards on every level, not to mention the elevator they’ll shut down if someone gets loose in the facility.”
“What if I talked to the higher authority?”
“
Let it go!
” he roared.
“Keep it the fuck down, I’m trying to read,” a man yelled from down the hall.
Denver surged forward, gripping the bars to my right and shoving his face between the gap. “
You
shut the fuck up. I have visitors, so stuff some cotton balls in your ears and give it a rest.”
I stepped in front of Denver’s line of vision and covered his hands with mine. We looked at each other for a long time, the way people do when they don’t know if they’ll see each other again.
“Don’t get mad at me for trying,” I said. Why couldn’t he understand that my devotion to him ran just as deep as his did to me, and I’d do anything where he was concerned?
“It probably wouldn’t have worked out between us,” he said disparagingly. “Don’t go around blaming yourself for any of this. Got it? You’re better than that. I can’t make this shitstorm go away, but don’t let it ruin your life. You stay with Austin’s pack… unless of course you get mated. You’re educated, so I want you to do something with that. Maybe a degree doesn’t mean as much in the Breed world, but you know a lot of things we don’t because of that education. I read some of those stories you used to write me when you were a teen. Did I ever tell you how talented you are? Maybe you can do some of that. A lot of businesses are getting on the net, so I could see you writing up all their stuff. You have a way with words. Not like me. I’ve lived half my life with my foot in my mouth.”
He smiled boyishly and my chest constricted.
“Don’t do this,” I whispered.
“Do what?”
“Give up! Say good-bye. Why are you pushing me away?”
He stepped back and shifted his gaze to the floor. “It’s easier this way.”
“Don’t shut down on me because you’re afraid of getting hurt.”
“It’s not
me
I’m worried about,” he stressed.
Did he really want me to do the same thing he’d done for the past eight years? His solution for avoiding pain was avoiding the source. On top of that, he was pushing me toward someone else, thinking that would save me from the pain of losing him.
