They drove in silence, switching lanes, passing slower cars. Wyatt watched as the asphalt skimmed by beneath them, the mile markers passing one by one. “I don’t suppose you could drive faster.”
Raph eyed him sidelong. “No. Not if I want to keep you safe.”
And Wyatt looked down, remembering the baby in his belly. He’d not thought to keep himself safe, but he needed to remember, for their child’s sake.
“How far are we from Hazel?” Raph asked.
Wyatt looked at his phone. “About fifty-five miles.”
“I can’t go much faster. At most, eighty. They’re probably doing sixty an hour.”
Unease coiled his guts into a tight knot. Wyatt stared at the red dot on his phone, willing it to stop moving. But if it did... what would happen to Hazel? He refused to believe she was dead. No. Hazel was alive somewhere, and he’d get to hold her in his arms again.
Raph reached over, squeezing Wyatt’s thigh. Then he rubbed his knuckles over Wyatt’s belly, dipping his thumb into Wyatt’s navel. Wyatt nudged his hand away.
“What?”
“Tickles.”
“Really? I didn’t know you were ticklish.” Raph’s hand slipped up his chest, a light, warm touch.
Wyatt squirmed, pushing it away. “Drive!”
“I’m driving!”
His phone buzzed—a message from Penny. His stomach flipped.
Raph glanced over. “What did she say?”
Wyatt clicked on the message, his throat tight. Sam says it’s someone called Max. He’s in a silver car with the following license plate number. I’m attaching pictures and a video clip. He took her at 1:43 PM.
He dropped the phone, his pulse roaring in his ears. Max had his baby. Max took his baby, and who knew what he’d do to her?
“Wy?” Raph asked, his eyebrows screwing together. “Wy, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Max,” he choked, his throat too tight. He should watch the video. He should see what Max had done to his daughter, but he couldn’t. Not when he remembered that too-tight grip, the way Max had slammed him against the wall. “I—I... Penny sent a video.”
“What car am I looking for?”
“Silver.”
“That’s all I need. You did good, Wy.”
Raph caught his hand, his grip warm and firm. Wyatt concentrated on Raph’s touch. Outside, the forest flew by on either side of the highway, and the afternoon sun glinted off the cars.
Wyatt gulped. “I should—should watch the video. Just—just so I know.”
Raph glanced over. “You don’t have to. We’ll track her down and beat the hell out of him.”
The phone buzzed again. Wyatt closed his eyes, torn. He was a dad. He should be brave enough to know what happened to his daughter. But the sight of Max... He gulped. Maybe a video would be okay, if he wasn’t looking at Max in person. “If you want to... to watch it, I can... hold the phone up.”
Raph studied him again. “If you’re sure.”
Wyatt nodded. He needed to be brave. So he held his breath, picked the phone up. Penny’s new message said, I’ve forwarded all this info to Dad, too. He’s passed the news to the Highton police. He’s on his way.
“Dad’s on his way,” Wyatt said, some of the weight on his chest easing. Then he scrolled up, tapping on the video.
The video was grainy, a wide-angle view of the drive-in’s parking lot. There was a silver car there, and two others to the side. Hazel skated up in her yellow apron. The window rolled down, and Wyatt glimpsed the vague outlines of Max in the car, with his bulky body, and his sandy hair.
In the video, Hazel faltered when she skated closer—she recognized Max, but she was too far away for Wyatt to read her expression. Wyatt’s heart pounded.
“We don’t have to watch,” Raph said, glancing at him.
Wyatt shook his head. “I—I should.”
Hazel made to skate backward. Then she paused, as though something Max said had stopped her. And Max continued talking, that slimy jerk. He opened the car door, and Hazel turned. Max pounced on her, grabbed her by the waist, and threw her into the driver’s seat. Wyatt’s blood turned cold. His hands sweated, and his ears rang.
In the car, Hazel squirmed, trying to push herself from the seat. Max caught her knees, rolled her onto the passenger seat, and got into the car, closing the door. Then he drove out of the video, Hazel kicking at him.
How badly did he hit her, after she’d kicked at him like that?
Wyatt shook, the phone falling from his fingers onto the center console. He couldn’t breathe. Max had taken his baby, and who knew what terror he’d unleash on her?
“That bastard,” Raph growled, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.
Raph became a blur, and Wyatt remembered rough hands on his hair, dragging him painfully backward. He remembered sharp slaps to his face, that left his ears ringing. His throat tightened, and he couldn’t breathe.
For an eternity, he shook, gasping, nausea swirling in his gut. He tried to tell himself things would be fine, but he remembered Everyone you love will die, and You’re a failure of an omega, and his brain couldn’t process past that.
“Wy,” Raph said, his voice faraway. “Wy, listen to me.”
Raph’s voice was familiar, calming. He slid his fingers against Wyatt’s palm, and squeezed his hand. Wyatt clung to him, tears tracking down his face, his body strung so tight he couldn’t move.
“Hazel will be fine,” Raph said. “We’ve got the police on the lookout for them. We’ve got enough evidence to lock that shithead away. You’re gonna be okay.”
Wyatt drew his knees up to protect his belly, hugging himself. He was a terrible father. He’d screwed up, and maybe there would be no patching this mistake. Maybe Raph was lying to him again.
“I don’t b-believe you,” he said. Raph sighed, rubbing Wyatt’s hand with his thumb.
“I’m here with you. Right now, I need to know where Hazel is. Can you do that for me? And for Hazel. I’d navigate your phone myself if I weren’t driving.”
Hazel needed him. I need to be stronger.
Slowly,
