“You. Randomly coming across people throwing themselves off cliffs.”
Pember grimaced, blinking several times as images of his sister flashed through his mind.Mangled. Twisted.He played it off as water splashing into his eye, but Blake didn’t look convinced. When he didn’t answer, the alpha picked up another bowl from the drying rack.
“You’ll need some better footwear. If you insist on walking instead of rugby.” Blake’s mouth twitched into a subtle smirk, and he nudged Pember’s shoulder.
“I don’t think I’m built for rugby,” Pember murmured.
Blake shrugged. “I don’t know. I knew some petite wingers when I played at college. What are you, five seven, five eight?”
Pember nodded. “Five seven and a half.”
“That half could make all the difference.”
He said it so stoically, Pember couldn’t tell if he was joking, but he laughed anyway. Sucking his teeth, he said, “So am I forgiven, or is it going to be awkward every time we put our bins out?”
Blake actually chuckled at that—a deep, rumbling sound that made Pember shiver.
“I won’t make it awkward so long as you keep Wallace in check. He still hasn’t sent me the report.”
Pember sniffed. “He’s my supervisor, and I’ve only worked there a week. I’m not sure what you expect me to do. And besides, he warned me about police officers like you.”
Blake raised a brow. “Oh?”
Pember clapped a hand over his mouth. “Forget I said that.”
“I don’t think I can. Go on.”
“Just… something about bulls and china shops.” Pember flushed and thought he probably shouldn’t be causing cross-department dramas, so decided to change the subject. Glancing over his shoulder, he looked at Val sitting in the chair. “I’m worried about her,” he said, holding his hands under the tap to wash off the soap suds. “Her meals, the state of her house…youfinding her in the woods. It’s not good. Not good at all.”
Blake nodded. “I know. I’ve tried sorting out a few things, but she’s incredibly house proud. I moved in a year ago and she’s only just starting to trust me. It might be different for you, because you’re?—”
“An omega?” Pember cut him off.
Blake dropped his gaze and held out the dishcloth so Pember could dry his hands. “I didn’t mean it in a derogatory way. You just… She seems to like you. She can be a miserable old hag, she even says so herself.”
Pember pressed his lips together and raised a brow. “Maybe you and her are more alike than you think.”
Blake hummed, then grinned and touched the tip of his tongue to the corner of his mouth. “Touché. See you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 7
DEATH THROUGH A LENS
Pember
One,two, three, four, five rings. Click.
“Pem, you there?”
Pember jerked awake, jolting forward under the sheets. His arms and legs hung over the edge of the bed as though his body was trying to throw itself onto the floor. Sweat poured down his neck as he shakily reached for the glass on his bedside table. His hands were so clammy he almost dropped it.
“Shit,” he whispered, gulping down water in an attempt to get his breathing under control.
Setting the glass down, he pressed his palms to his eyes. He kicked away the blankets and pillows. The bare walls were doing nothing to calm his mind. He reached for his wolf but was met with silence, the nightmares leaving his brain fuzzy and disconnected.
The sheets were drenched again, the outline of his body present in sweat. In an almost robotic manner, he stripped the bedding and threw it into the washing machine. It was 3:27 am, and his sleep was getting progressively worse. Some nights were fine—his body just crashing from sheer exhaustion. But tonightwas bad. The recurring nightmare of his sister was like a raging bull chasing him through the streets, trampling him over and over again.
Shaking his head, he tipped the laundry detergent into the machine and closed the door, watching the sheets spin for a little while with his legs bare and cold on the kitchen floor.
