Page 18 of Found by the Pack

But every time I get close, grief grabs me by the throat.

You’re not ready, it whispers.You’re not safe.

So I listen.

And I drive.

CHAPTER 4

Gabe

Iwatch the truck peel out of the lot, taillights flaring through the mist. The truck’s loud, rust-orange, dented near the tailgate. Not exactly subtle.

Not that she is. She had that stiff-shouldered tension that only comes from trying to outrun something invisible. Or maybe it’s just the Memphis plates that have me curious.

Pink hair.

What the hell is that?

I nod toward the vehicle as it disappears down Harbor Drive. “What the fuck was that?”

Shepard shrugs like this isn’t news. “That’s Sadie.”

Sadie. Huh.

“She’s the muralist,” he adds. “Town beautification project. Starts this week.”

I grunt. “And how the hell do you know that?”

“We met this morning.” He glances at me, then adds, deadpan, “In the library.”

I scoff. “Of course you did.”

Only Shep would make friends with a mysterious runaway artist in the goddamn library at dawn. Not at a bar. Not in line at the diner. Not at the gym. The fucking library.

She had that dazed look, like she hadn’t slept, eaten, or breathed in twenty-four hours. She looked… hurt. And that makes me want to ask more questions than I usually allow myself.

But I don’t. Not yet.

Instead, I fall into step beside him as we cross the lot toward his car. Driftwood Cove’s not exactly bustling, but traffic’s still steady near the corner of the community center. A mom with two kids. A guy walking his husky. Life rolling on.

Boone’s already headed our way, paramedic badge still clipped to his belt and a pair of sunglasses perched on his head like he forgot to take them off. He’s got a sweat mark down the back of his shirt, and he’s got the same wild curl to his blond hair that his brother used to have.

I push the thought down.

“Jesus, I thought I was late,” Boone says. “You two just getting out of your post-shift bromance?”

“Library meet-cute,” I say, nodding toward Shepard. “Apparently, he’s got a crush.”

“I do not,” Shepard groans, even though I can see the nervous tics as he adjusts his glasses and looks away.

Boone raises a brow. “What are we talking about?”

I explain everything to Boone.

Boone gives Shepard a once-over. “You didn’t ask for her number?”

Shepard chuckles, unlocking his car. “Didn’t exactly come up. She was soaked in rain water and a little irritable. Figured that might be a weird time to shoot my shot.”