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My jaw clenched in annoyance as I did my best not to hurl the screen across the room. No matter where I looked, I couldn’t find shit. I was nowhere near as good as Trent or Will when it came to research, but I wasn’t awful at it, either. I should have been able to find something incriminating about Reacher by this point. But I’d found shit.

The knock on my office door dragged my attention away from the computer. “It’s open,” I called.

Declan strolled in, walking closer toward me before leaning against the wall. “How’re things going?” he asked.

“Badly,” I grumbled. “I’ve been trying to look into Reacher’s time as alpha, to try and get some idea of what might be going on. But the information on him is surprisingly scant. It’s hard to find anything beyond bare bones.”

Tilting his head, he asked, “Have you thought about asking Audrey? Her dad is Reacher’s second, isn’t he? I wouldn’t be surprised if she knew something.”

Sighing, I leaned back, running my fingers through my hair. “I thought about it,” I admitted. “In fact, I tried to bring it up a couple of times, trying to feel out if she would be willing to talk about it.”

Declan raised his eyebrows. “And?”

“And every time I tried to bring it up, she would go pale and start stammering. She basically would say everything was fine and that there was nothing wrong before trying to change the subject.”

“And you’re guessing she was lying?”

“I think she’s scared,” I said. “Even if she’s no longer there, I think she’s still frightened.”

“Doesn’t seem like the Audrey I remember,” he mused. “Granted, I didn’t know her as well as you or Mira.”

I shook my head, drumming my fingers on the desk. “No, it’s not like her at all. There are times when she basically seems like an entirely different person. I never would have imagined her as timid or scared, but she jumps at practically everything.” I furrowed my brow before glancing up at him. “I’m worried about her. I’ve tried talking to her about it, and she won’t go into that, either. But jumping at everything that moves and not speaking up for herself can’t be healthy, can it?”

“People change,” Declan said. At my dubious expression, he relented. “Okay, if there is something wrong, just give her time to adjust. Let her come to you when she’s ready.”

I let out a low growl. He had a point, I knew that. But the idea of waiting was counterintuitive to me. I wanted to know what was going on now.

Declan seemed to read my mind because he said, “I know patience and letting other people take the lead isn’t your strong suit, Jackson. But it’s probably the best course of action here. Audrey needs time to get used to everything. So be patient.” He tapped the screen and gave me a meaningful look. “And in the meantime, you can put your mind to work elsewhere. Like taking a closer look into a certain alpha?”

“Right, right,” I said with a sigh. I drummed my fingers. Something he’d said had given me an idea. “Stick around for a sec, will you?”

He slouched down in the chair, pulling out his phone as he waited. Meanwhile, I pulled up a couple of databases and began following up on my hunch.

For a moment, I found nothing and worried I was way off the mark yet again. Then a small nugget of information I almost missed caught my eye. I straightened, my interest piqued.

“I found something,” I announced.

Declan’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Come look.”

He pushed himself up and moved around the desk to read over my shoulder.

“He was the alpha of a different pack,” I said. “Before the Blood Moon.” I drummed my fingers on the desk as I considered. “You know, I’ll bet there are some people there who would be willing to talk about him.”

“Interesting. It’s not exactly common for alphas to leave their packs.” Declan raised an eyebrow. “Makes me wonder if something happened.”

“Less ‘if’ and more ‘what,’ if you ask me,” I muttered. Turning to look at him, I asked, “Mind if I go have a chat with their alpha? Might be able to get something out of him.”

“Worth a shot. I doubt they would have the same loyalty as some of the people in his current pack,” Declan noted. “Bring a couple people with you when you go.”

“I’ll set something up,” I agreed.

Nodding, he straightened and headed to the door. He was just about to step out when he paused and looked back over his shoulder. “And Jackson?”

“Yeah?”

“This time, don’t bring home any women.”

He left and closed the door behind him.

***

“This is delicious,” I told Audrey as she, myself, and Claire sat at the dinner table. I forked another mound of spaghetti into my mouth.

“Thanks,” she said, her cheeks turning the faintest hint of pink as her lips turned upward.

“Yeah, it’s really good,” Claire said—or, rather, garbled.

Audrey shot her daughter a look. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she chided.

Giving her mother an almost identical glance of annoyance, Claire obeyed. A moment later, however, she put a single strand of spaghetti in her mouth and slurped it up, staring at her mom in defiance the entire time.

“Now you’re just being obstinate,” Audrey said, clearly fighting some mix of amusement and annoyance. “You—”

Her words were drowned out by another loud sucking sound, though not from Claire. She turned, and her eyes shot daggers at me as she watched me suck in a noodle.

“What?” I asked innocently.

“You know what,” she said.

“Nope,” I said, shrugging. Raising my eyebrows, I met Claire’s eyes and gave an elaborate slurp as I sucked another noodle into my mouth.

Claire giggled, and I grinned. Glancing over, I saw Audrey give a faint smile as well.

“Don’t you encourage her,” she said. “You’re going to be a bad influence.”

“Me? Never. Spec-ops guys have perfect manners. We’re fantastic influences.”

“Right,” Audrey said, rolling her eyes but smiling more freely. It was nice seeing her smile.

“Were any of your missions dangerous?” Claire asked me.

“Some,” I said. “But I had a great team with me, so I never worried.”

“Which was your favorite?” she asked with genuine curiosity.

I rubbed my chin. “Hard to say. I really liked the one where I had to fight a lion and a gorilla in an amusement park.”

Her eyes went wide. “You’re joking.”

“You’re right.” I gave a wide grin. “I am.”

Claire stuck out her tongue as Audrey laughed.

The rest of the dinner went by in a similar fashion. The whole experience felt almost familiar, as if we had done this hundreds of times. There was something about it, though, that also felt right, like it was always supposed to be this way. The three of us as a unit.

After dinner, Claire started walking toward the living room when Audrey stopped her. “Go finish your homework,” she ordered. “You can watch TV after.”

Claire grimaced and glanced over at me, her eyes wide and begging.

“Listen to your mother,” I said.

Pouting, Claire nodded and went upstairs.

“Thanks,” Audrey said.

“No kid likes to do homework,” I said. “I get it.”

She began gathering the plates.

“Here, let me help,” I offered.

“It’s fine,” she muttered, stacking the dishes. “I do this all the time.”

“You did back at your old pack,” I said. “But here, I can help.”

She hesitated, the pile of plates already in her hand. She glanced back at the table. “You can get the glasses if you really want to help.”

Nodding, I gathered them.

“Did you know Reacher was the alpha of a different pack before the Blood Moon?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

I wasn’t sure what sort of reaction I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t her dropping the entire stack of dishes. The resounding crash rang in my ears as ceramic and dollops of food spilled across the floor.

“I’m so sorry,” she babbled, looking from me to the broken dishes at her feet and back to me, her eyes wide with fright. “Just butterfingers. They slipped right out of my hands. I didn’t mean—”

“It’s all right,” I said, cutting her off. “These things happen.”

She ran her fingers through her hair, muttering swear words under her breath. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated.

“Relax. They’re dishes,” I said. “They’re easily replaceable. I’m more worried about you hurting yourself. Be careful where you step.”

As if she hadn’t heard me, Audrey bent and began gathering the larger shards, putting them on the least broken plate. Her hands trembled a little as she kept her gaze on the floor.

I crouched beside her and began to help pick up the pieces.

“I’m fine, I’ve got it,” she insisted. “You just…”

I stopped what I was doing to look at her, taking in her wide eyes, hunched shoulders, and frantic movements. After a moment, I reached out and took her wrist. I felt her stiffen beneath my grip, but I didn’t let go.

“Audrey,” I said gently, as though speaking to a frightened animal. Slowly, she looked up at me, her large, blue eyes staring into mine with uncertainty. “What happened to you?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes widening.

“Eleven years ago, you were this strong, fiery woman,” I said. “You weren’t afraid of anyone or anything. It was one of the things I admired about you. A few years ago, you would have laughed about the plates and told me it was my fault for distracting you. But now…” I gestured around us.

Her jaw clenched for a moment. “People change. I’m sorry if—”

“I’m not trying to attack or insult you,” I cut in. “I care about you. I just want to know what’s going on. I’m worried about you. I want to help. But I can’t unless I know what’s really going on with you. Please. Just let me help.”

“You really want to know what happened?” she asked. Something like her old spark flickered in her eyes, but only for a moment.

“Of course I do,” I said. “I want to help you.”

She swallowed, glancing around before her gaze finally returned to my face. She took a deep breath.

“That night, when I came to your house…” She trailed off.

“I remember,” I said.

I didn’t think I could ever forget it. I’d regretted what I said to her the second she walked out the door, but I also knew I couldn’t walk it back. I knew what I wanted in that moment. But over the years that followed, I sometimes wondered if I had made the right call.

“I dreamt about a life with you,” she said. “Imagined all the things we would do together. Our kids. I had this perfect life planned out. And then…” She trailed off again. “The way it ended… it hurt… a lot. I don’t know how to articulate it better than that. But that night changed everything. I’d never been hurt like that before, and I never want to feel that kind of pain again. It’s the reason I left, and the whole reason I went back to a place I hated—because I had nowhere else to go, and no one I could turn to. On top of that, I basically haven’t been able to trust anyone since. I keep waiting for anyone I get close to to betray me one way or another. It’s easier to just keep to myself.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. I didn’t know what to say. How was I supposed to begin to respond to that?

Absently, she started picking up the plate shards. She hissed in pain, dropping a shard, which broke again into smaller pieces. She clutched her wrist as blood began to well on the heel of her palm. “Shit,” she mumbled as she stood, hurrying to the sink to wash the cut.

I jumped to my feet and dashed to the nearby bathroom to grab bandages. I returned to stand beside her at the sink.

“Here.” I took her hand gently and placed the bandage across the cut.

“Thanks,” she said, talking to the Band-Aid instead of me. Seeing her like that stirred old emotions and regrets, ones I had denied I felt for years. Seeing her now, though, I could finally see how stupid my choices were.

Gently, I reached out with my free hand and lifted her chin so she was looking at me. “Audrey,” I said. “I am so sorry. For all of it. I can’t express how sorry I am.”

She took a deep breath. “You can say sorry all you want. That doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.”

“I know. But it’s the truth. And if I could take it all back, I would in a heartbeat.”

“You can’t take it back,” she said.

“I know,” I said. My hand went to her cheek. She leaned into it. I didn’t think she even realized she was doing it. “But I want to make it up to you. Starting now.”

I had made so many mistakes when it came to Audrey. There was something about her that just made me throw all common sense out the window. I wanted to do right by her, to make up for all the wrongs I had done her. I wanted to tell her just how much she meant to me, and how I would do anything to make her smile.

I didn’t know how to articulate any of that, though, or whether this was even the time. Instead, I did the one thing I could think to do in that moment.

I leaned down and kissed her.

An electricity ran through me the instant our lips touched, a yearning that I hadn’t felt since that night she came to my house. My wolf howled in longing and triumph. I sensed her own longing, too, in the way she instinctively pressed against me, the way one hand knotted into a fist, gripping the fabric of my shirt as it was pinned between us. Her other hand wrapped around my neck as my own snaked around her, pressing into the small of her back. My other hand gripped her head, fingers tangling in her hair as I held her in place.

For a long moment, all that mattered was the two of us.

Her hand went to my chest, and she stepped back, breaking the kiss. Her chest heaved, and I could see the longing and need in her eyes.

“We can’t,” she said. Her fingers remained clenched around the fabric of my shirt as if part of her didn’t want to let go. “I’m sorry, but I can’t go down that road again.”

I wanted to protest. Part of me, that primal part that belonged to my wolf, wanted to ignore her wishes and take her right then and there, to plunge my tongue into her mouth and claim her. The more rational side of me managed to hold those desires at bay, no matter how badly I wanted to pull her against me again.

I forced myself to nod, and her hand fell away.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated before turning on her heels and leaving the room.