Page 22 of Forsaken Devotion: Part 2
I burst through the tree-line and picked up my pace, running over the foliage and ignoring the discomfort of rocks and sharp branches breaking underfoot.
Pain buckled my frame.
Staggering, I clasped the sharp sting originating at our mate bond. To brace myself, I slapped my palm on the surface of the rough tree.
A groan ripped from my throat.
The sensation faded as quickly as it arrived. I exhaled sharply. I’d experienced the same torture a few days ago; the first time she’d run away from me. The one that told me she hadtouched another man. I bared my teeth, shaking my head to rid myself of the remnant throb.
She said she hadn’t fucked anyone. The agony I’d felt had to have been from her being near Alex.
This pain I felt could have been from a simple skin-to-skin brush against the opposite sex. Unless Gideon Drake already had her. Ice spiked through my veins. I burst forward, finally able to shift.
9
Creaking, the bar door swung shut behind me and Verity. An endless crowd of bikers filled the front of the pub, so we’d had to push out way inside.
“Are you sure we should be here?” Verity muttered, arm hooked through mine. It was odd having her cling to me. In prison, she’d always looked after me, so that told me she was rattled by everything I’d told her.
I didn’t answer her, sweeping my gaze across the inside of Red Fang Pub. The hair on my arms lifted. I inhaled deeply, tasting the earthy undertone that all shifters carried. The pub crawled with our kind.
Thank Moon, I’d looked up the sheriff online. His pale hair would stand out. I’d confront him, ask my questions, and get out of here. At least this was in public, so there was a semblance of safety.
“Is that him?” Verity nudged my arm. I followed her gaze to a man sitting in the farthest corner of the pub. He sat alone, a pint of beer in front of him and a few empty ones to the side. He tossed back the one he was nursing.
“It is.” I slipped out of her grip. As I’d told her to do in the car, she stayed back, selecting a table for herself. I wove through the busy, compact pub. The revelry was in full swing, and about seventy percent of the patrons were deeply inebriated from the looks of it. I fanned my face to alleviate a bit of the heat.
I had my focus narrowed on Stools, but he was staring at the beer, his eyes unfocused.
Verity’s bra strap dug into my side, and I slid my finger into the fabric, fixing my boobs in the process. I reached the table and the man, older than me by two decades, lifted his red-rimmed eyes to mine.
“Hi,” I chirped with fake enthusiasm. I didn’t let him get a word in and slid into the booth, scooting next to him. Up close, it was easier to see the age lines all over his face.
“Uh,” he gasped on his drink, obviously shocked. I softened my lips before they curled into a sneer like I wanted to. As I sat in silence, he incrementally relaxed, returning to drinking with his head lowered. He scanned my face, recognition, fear, and panic flitting over his features.
I licked my lips and propped my chin on my palm. I didn’t want to waste time.
“How long did you serve as a sheriff?”
“Twenty years . . .” he answered without hesitation, his eyes widening on me.
“I would imagine being sheriff for so long offered you a certain amount of power.” I smiled. “Enough power to help murder a father and a daughter.” He stiffened, and his drink toppled from his fingers. I caught it and righted it.
“The . . .” he breathed, giving me the confirmation I needed. “You . . . remembered?”
I came to the pub on a strong hunch, but my gut had proved me right.
“Luna,” he begged, baring his neck. He was trembling, his gaze going far off. This man was pathetic. “As soon as I saw you with Lucian. I understood why she wanted to get rid of you.” He shook his head.
“So you were one of the men who caused the accident.”
“No,” he sputtered. “I didn’t hit your car?—”
“But you knew about it.”
“Yes.” He lowered his eyes. “I was only supposed to cover our tracks and doctor paperwork after we got rid of you,” he whispered. His eyes were glazed and unfocused. “But an ambulance showed up, stopping us from . . .”
“Killing me?” I bit out.
