Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78745 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“I’ll do this on my own,” I whisper to the empty driveway, scanning the shadows in case Jason’s lurking. But there’s nothing. The air is cold, biting my cheeks as I jog to the curb, hailing a rideshare with shaky fingers.
As I wait, my mind is a jumble of scenes: Jason’s furious expression the last time I saw him, Orion’s arms holding me when I was at my lowest, Heidi’s voice telling me about Jason lurking at the aviary. And woven through all of it is that one searing sentence: No, I don’t have feelings for shit.
That’s what hurts the most. Because for a fleeting moment, I thought I’d found something real with Orion. Something that made me feel safe and cherished. But I was just a job to him. And if I’m just a job, then I don’t owe him any explanations.
A distant set of headlights glows down the street, and a dark car pulls up to the curb. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I don’t even have to look to guess it’s Orion, probably realizing I’m gone. I let it ring. Let him wonder.
I slide into the back seat of the rideshare, my fingers still clutching my phone so tightly. “Where to?” the driver asks.
I swallow, heart pounding. “Take me to the Saint Pierce Zoo,” I say, voice trembling with a resolve I can barely hold onto. I’m terrified, my chest throbbing from Orion’s betrayal, but I can’t stay idle any longer. Not when every sign points to something big brewing at the place I love—and no matter how hurt I am, I refuse to let Jason or anyone else ruin it.
The driver spins around and I see a face I’m all too familiar with. “You,” I say. I reach for the door, but it locks with what appears to be a child lock. “Let me out,” I scream.
The driver turns in his seat, and the passenger door opens and Jason slides into the front seat.
Jason spins around. “You won’t be needing that,” he says, yanking my phone from my hands. He breaks it as the driver accelerates down the road. Jason rolls the window down, tossing my phone out and laughs as he does.
“I hate you both,” I tell them, wishing there was a way I could get out of this car.
Chapter 22
Orion
It’s late when I finally head down the hallway to check on Briar. She’s been holed up in her bedroom for ages, and I’m convinced she’s asleep by now—especially since I spent the last hour making her favorite dinner, chicken nuggets and macaroni and cheese, something I hoped would cheer her up. The comforting aroma still lingers on my clothes as I push open the door to her room.
“Briar?” I call softly, stepping inside. The bedside lamp is off, and moonlight filters through a crack in the curtains. I pause, letting my eyes adjust to the dimness. There’s a weird sense of unease nibbling at the back of my mind, but I brush it off and move closer to the bed.
It’s empty. The sheets are rumpled, but there’s no sign of her. My heart thumps with a sudden spike of adrenaline.
“She’s not here,” a voice says, startling me. In the far corner, Jeb sits perched in his cage, feathers ruffled.
I swallow hard, turning to face the bird. “What do you mean she’s not here? Where’d she go, Jeb?”
“Briar left,” Jeb repeats, bobbing his head. “Briar cries.”
A fissure of dread cracks open in my gut. “Cries? She was crying?” I cross the room in a few strides, stopping in front of the cage. “What do you mean, Jeb? What was she crying about?”
Jeb bobs again, shuffling on his perch. Then, as clear as day, he squawks, “I don’t have feelings for shit.”
His words send a cold jolt through my veins. Shit. That’s what I said on the phone with Dean, to cover my ass, to keep things professional. She must have overheard. I take a shaky breath, cursing myself for the lie. I never wanted Briar to hear that. I hadn’t meant it—not even close.
“Jeb, buddy, where did she go?” My hand’s already fishing my phone from my pocket. I punch in Dean’s number, my pulse hammering as each ring sounds through the speaker.
The call connects, and Dean’s casual “Hello?” grates on my nerves.
“Briar’s gone,” I bite out. “I need her location. Now.”
“Gone?” Dean echoes, but I hear the quick clack of a keyboard in the background. He’s doing exactly what I asked—tracking her phone. “Any idea where she might’ve gone?”
I pace the bedroom, my head spinning. “None. I just found out she left from—” I glance at Jeb, who’s still muttering under his breath, “—her damn bird. She must’ve overheard something she wasn’t supposed to.”
Dean exhales a near-laugh. “If this wasn’t so serious, I’d laugh.”