“You’re scaring me,” she whispered, chewing on that lower lip so hard he was worried she was going to break the skin.
Knowing it needed to be said, he murmured, “I’m sorry, but you need to be a little scared, because it will keep you sharp. But not of me, and not of Max. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep you both safe.”
It was dark inside the car, but his wolf’s eyes could see her clearly in the dim glow of the lights on her dash. Her brows were drawn into a deep V between her delicately shaped brows, her big eyes shadowed with concern and confusion. “So you’re here because you’re working some kind of case?” she asked him, taking the next right. “You and this Max guy?”
“That’s right,” he replied, wishing he could just take her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. But that would only freak her out even more.
“And Viv and I are involved? How is that even possible?” Before he could answer, she smacked the flat of her hand against the steering wheel and growled, “It has to be connected to that strip club where Viv took a job last month. I told her not to do it, that it wasn’t the kind of scene she needed to be a part of, but the sleazy owner just kept offering her more money. He’s paying her way more than she could make anywhere else.” Flashing him an angry look, she added, “Viv is gorgeous and the ass likes her serving drinks to his clients, even if she refuses to strip or go topless like the other girls. This is because of him, isn’t it? Does it have to do with drugs? Or something even worse?”
“I know this club owner seems like the logical explanation, but it’s got nothing to do with him, Skye. He’s not a part of it.”
“But nothing else makes sense!” she argued, smacking the wheel again.
“I get that.” He gave a frustrated sigh, knowing damn well that they couldn’t get into this while she was driving. “Just...give me a little time. Please.”
She chewed on that gorgeous lower lip again, then muttered something under her breath that he couldn’t quite make out. “We’re here,” she said a moment later, turning into the parking lot of one of the most run-down apartment complexes he’d ever seen. What. The. Hell? He couldn’t believe this was where his girl had been living. How was that even possible?
Jesus, there were so many things wrong with the place, he didn’t even know where to start. For one, there didn’t seem to be a single light anywhere, though there were plenty of liquor bottles scattered across the asphalt and snow-covered patches of dead grass. And there seemed to be more broken windows than whole ones, many of them either covered with pieces of cardboard or doctored with silver strips of duct tape.
Then there was the group of men huddled around a flame-filled trashcan at the far end of the parking lot. They looked like a rough group, and though he was the last one to pass judgment based on a person’s appearance, Elliot still didn’t like the idea of Skye and her friend walking past those men at night, with no one there to protect them. Didn’t mean he thought she was weak or naive or in any way less capable than a man. This was an issue of numbers, and he knew firsthand how twisted a pack mentality could become under the wrong influences.
Hell, he lived with the internal scars from that very thing every goddamn day of his life.
She drove around the back of the complex, and pulled into a parking space that was only three down from Max’s truck. Elliot did a quick visual sweep of the area, but didn’t see his partner. Then he turned his head toward Skye, who was turning off the engine.
“How long have you been living here?” He winced at the guttural sound of his voice, noticing how she flinched, but there was no masking the way he felt at the moment. His protective instincts were in full Lycan mode, and it was all he could do to keep from throwing her over his shoulder and getting her the hell out of there.
“Just over a year.” She had an embarrassed expression on her face as she turned to look at him. “The last place was even worse, if you can believe it.”
“Skye,” he said carefully, trying to keep his voice calm, though he was seething inside at the thought of his mate living in this dump. And how in the hell did she give so much comfort and happiness to the people at the diner when she had this to come home to every night? “Honey, this isn’t a safe place.”
Her chest lifted, heavy breasts pressing tight against her pink uniform as she drew in a shaky breath, then slowly let it out. “I know, but it wasn’t this bad when we moved in. Then, three months ago, the owners went bankrupt, and it’s all pretty much fallen apart. But they won’t allow us to break our lease, so we’re stuck here for another two months.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“I know,” she said again, sounding defeated, and he knew this was a situation neither her nor Vivian wanted to be in. “But I always have a can of pepper spray in my purse, and I pay attention to my surroundings. Viv and I know how to be careful.”
Fuck, he hated this. Hated knowing she walked around in fear, always looking over her shoulder. Where the hell was her family? Why wasn’t someone helping them? Where in God’s name were their dads? Uncles? Cousins? Weren’t there any males in their lives looking out for them?
And, yeah, he knew that if one of the women back at the Alley ever heard him say something like that out loud, he’d get ripped for it. But from the age of seventeen, Mason and the others had ingrained in him what it meant to be a man—and first and foremost, being a man meant protecting a woman when she needed it.
They climbed out, and the moment they reached the front of her car, Max stepped out of the shadows near the apartments, looking more furious than Elliot had ever seen him. There was a hard, aggressive energy riding his partner, the lines of his usually easygoing face drawn tight with strain.
“What happened?” Elliot asked, hoping Max wouldn’t say anything in front of Skye that he shouldn’t. It wouldn’t normally have been a concern, but with as raw as Max looked, there was no telling what might come out of his mouth.
“I completely fucked up, that’s what happened.”
Elliot gave him a sharp what-the-hell look, and Max sighed, shoving both hands back through his short, black curls. “I...” He lowered his arms, and his hands tightened into fists at his sides. “It’s bad news, man.” He took a shaky breath, then slowly let it out. “I’m afraid it’s the worst.”
Shit, he thought, praying that Max was wrong.
“What’s happened?” Skye suddenly cried, fighting against Elliot’s hold when he caught her as she tried to rush past him.
“Skye, just hold on a second. Let me—”
“Damn it, let me go!” she screamed, tearing away from him. He was right on her heels, but Christ, the chick was fast. He caught the edge of her frayed coat just as she burst through the front door of the downstairs unit that was closest to them, but it was too late. She’d already seen the damage that had been done to the living room. A sofa, tables, bookcase and TV had all been ripped and smashed into pieces, as if a wild animal had gone ballistic in the place.
And in the far corner, beside the shredded remains of a small chair, were the mangled remnants of their tiny Christmas tree, every ornament smashed, the flickering lights looking somehow ominous as they lay tangled against the backdrop of such pointless, malicious violence.
“Vivian!” she screamed, her hands in her hair and a terrified expression on her pale face as she spun in a circle in the midst of the destroyed room.
“She isn’t here,” Max bit out, looking like he wanted to tear something apart with his bare hands as he came in behind them. He locked his glittering blue gaze on Elliot, and gave a frustrated shake of his head. “When we split ways at the diner, I came straight here. But after an hour or so, I headed over to the club where she works and found her there. One of the other girls said Vivian had been asked to work a little