Page 78 of Nitro

It had been a hellish few hours.

Even though Olaf had been generous with his hospitality, my inner grizzly didn’t feel at home with his wolves.

Spike had been unusually quiet and behaved throughout our stay, I noticed.

That was unlike him at all. I wondered if something was bothering him.

Before I could bring up the topic, my cell phone’s ringtone blared. Finally. Cell reception was terrible out here.

I fished it out of my pocket, half-expecting to see Tommy's name on the screen. Instead, Corey's name glared back at me.

Every muscle in my body tensed up. Corey wouldn't interrupt our mission unless something was amiss.

"Corey?" I answered.

"Nitro, we've got trouble," Corey's voice crackled over the phone, the signal strained.

"What's going on?" I demanded, my grip on the phone tightening.

"Tommy's in danger. There’s been an incident at his place. His brother’s been taken. He told me he’ll send you the coordinates. Get there fast,” Corey said.

My heart sank. Danger. Tommy.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Without wasting a moment, I relayed the information to Spike, and he seemed to jolt awake.

I ended the call with Corey only to find a text message from Tommy.

He must’ve typed it in a hurry, because it only contained an address.

I thrust the phone back into my pocket and slammed my foot on the gas pedal, the truck tearing through the open road.

Tommy needed me, and I wouldn't waste another second getting back to him.

The truck sped through the open road, the scenery blurring in a haze of urgency. My mind raced, grappling with disbelief.

While we sat with Olaf and his pack, sharing a meal, Tommy faced danger, and I had been oblivious. Guilt slammed into my chest.

Spike shot me a sympathetic glance, but I couldn't afford to wallow in self-blame.

The wheels churned faster, but time seemed to stretch impossibly long.

Would we reach Tommy in time? The uncertainty clawed at me, but I needed to focus.

My hand found the steering wheel, fingers gripping it tight. A surge of frustration welled within me.

Tommy was in trouble, and I felt powerless to protect him.

In a desperate attempt to connect with him, I reached out through the mating bond. But the distance between us stretched like an unbridgeable chasm.

The bond, usually a source of comfort and reassurance, felt distant and muted.

I couldn't sense Tommy's emotions, his presence reduced to a faint echo. It was a stark reminder of our separation, and I only grew agitated.

"He's alive," I muttered, more to reassure myself than anything.

Spike shot me a glance, concern etched on his face. It wasn't much solace, but at least Tommy was still breathing.

Late afternoon had fallen by the time we arrived at the address Tommy had sent me.