Page 17 of When She Needs Them Most

“She made multiple reports to Richmond police about one Emmett Raynor. Younger brother to Clark Raynor. The cops did fuck all with those reports. She paid a tidy sum to break her lease. I couldn’t find a forwarding address to lead me here, which was a smart move on her part…” He sighs. “But she set up all the utilities in her name—not that she had much choice. Any cut-rate PI could find her in five seconds flat.”

“Christ,” I mutter. “I’m going to need to see those police reports. I assume you took a deep dive into the younger Raynor?”

“Of course.” He scoffs, like he can’t believe I had the audacity to ask. “The problem isn’t Raynor. It’s the bookie he owes a shit ton of money to.”

In our line of work, we’ve seen it all before.

“The baby belongs to Clark?” I ask, like I have the right.

“From what I can tell? Yeah.” He shrugs. “He also seemed to believe the baby was his. He didn’t even ask for a DNA test in the will. You don’t leave your ex-girlfriend nearly your entire estate if she cheated or something. I couldn’t link her to anyone else around that time, and she informed him she was pregnant via voicemail and text message after he broke up with her. She was really fucking polite about it, too, considering she had no idea he was sick.”

I sigh.

God, that sounds terrible for her to have had to go through.

I’ve always been able to comprehend that I have low levels of empathy and compassion. Of most emotions in general, if I’m being honest. Luckily, I was raised by an excessively sweet and emotionally available mother.

My parents’ pack has two omegas—my mother and Gus. My biological father is likely one of the alphas, but Gus and I have a special bond. His omega nature allows him to pick up the emotions of others, and out of all my siblings, I became a bit of a special project for him and my mother.

That interest is likely to thank for why I didn’t end up a serial killer. Well, at least not one without morals and clear boundaries.

That’s not the point.

The pointisthat, even if I never feel emotions deeply, it still doesn’t sit right with me that Chelsea has faced so much. Add in the pregnancy, and I’m shocked she’s managing the stress at all.

“We’ll need to keep an eye on the Raynor situation.” I shake my head, glancing around the room. “Perhaps she would have been safer on the second floor.”

“Except that a few of the stairs seemed squishy when I checked them,” Kase says. “Also, the doorbell cam caught her nearly slipping on the steps earlier when she was going into our house while you were handling the movers.”

“What?” I hiss, unbuttoning the top button on my shirt. The collar doesn’t usually feel so unbearably tight. “Did she at least eat a decent breakfast?”

“Yeah, I mean, she said she was full. I’m guessing she eats small, frequent meals, like most pregnant women.” Kase shrugs.

That’s something else to watch.

He didn’t know a damn thing aboutpregnant womenuntil meeting Chelsea.

Not that I know much, but I can rectify that with an afternoon of reading.

“It appears we need to make a run to the hardware store.” Linc comes into the room with an arm around Chelsea’s shoulders.

“I didn’t know dryers have different plugs to connect to the wall. It worked in my apartment…” She frowns, rubbing at her stomach. “Shouldn’t that be universal?”

Linc chuckles. “You’d think so, but it’s a perfect example of capitalism at its finest.”

“Are you okay?” Kase takes a step toward Chelsea, who still rubs at her lower abdomen.

“Yeah. It’s just Braxton Hicks contractions. They’re inconvenient but normal.” She gives a tired smile as she keeps on massaging her stomach.

“Why don’t Lincoln and I run to the hardware store?” I offer. “Kase is excellent company, if you’d like to spend a few hours relaxing on the couch over at our place. It’ll be much warmer.”

Christ.

We’ve all done a fair amount of overstepping, but ultimately, she’s her own person. She could tell us to see our way out at any time.

My instincts wouldn’t handle that well.

I have no idea why I’m so drawn to help her, but I’ve never been one to stand idly by and watch someone in need suffer. Likely because, in most cases, I wouldn’t notice, but that’s neither here nor there.

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