Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)(49)

“Slow night?” Jericho asked conversationally.
Frank fixed their usual drinks and set a beer in front of Jericho. “We don’t have any specials running tonight.”
Wheeler sipped on his hard liquor and watched a blonde at the end of the bar who had her blue eyes all over him.
Jericho glanced around the room. “Where’s Rosie?”
Frank wiped down the bar and threw the rag over his shoulder. He was an older Shifter with a strip of silver hair on each side of his head. “She took the night off. We’ve only got two girls on the floor tonight.”
That seemed unusual. “Why only two?”
“That redhead didn’t show up. I guess she doesn’t want this job if she’s willing to flake out so soon. Jake isn’t going to go easy on her; he expects his girls to call in when they’re going to take the night off.”
“She didn’t call?” Jericho thought about her car out front, and alarm raced up his spine. “Do you have her number?”
“Nope.” Frank walked over to the blonde and handed her a laminated menu.
This was all wrong.
“Looks like your girl split again,” Wheeler murmured. “Drink your beer. You don’t even know her anymore.”
The room began to spin, and Jericho’s heart pounded against his chest. He stood up and stared vacantly at the door. Moments after she stormed off the night before, that douche bag had turned chicken and refused to fight Jericho. He must have given her a lift, because when Isabelle got mad, she walked. Maybe they just went home and were busy having makeup sex, but Jericho knew Isabelle. She loved working and would never disrespect her boss.
“Frank!” Jericho leaned over the bar as Frank ambled over. “Do you know a guy named Hawk? Has a thick mustache, kind of big, Isabelle’s boyfriend?”
“No. The girls don’t bring in their men; it disappoints the customers.”
Jericho stalked toward the back hall where Jake’s office was. He knocked on the door and then opened it. Jake wasn’t in the room, so Jericho knelt down in front of a filing cabinet and began to sift through the papers.
“What the hell are you doing?” Wheeler chided from the open door. “This isn’t just going to get you fired; it’s going to get you in legal trouble.”
Jericho found her file and folded the papers, stuffing them into his pants beneath his shirt. “Are you in my pack?” He slammed the file drawer and confronted Wheeler. “If you’re my brother, then you have my back. Isabelle’s in trouble, and either you can help me find her, or you can nurse that addiction waiting for you on a paper napkin. We all have to fight addiction, but she’s more than a craving. I don’t care what Denver told you, I’m not turning my back on this girl when I feel in my gut something’s wrong.” He held a fist against his stomach. “My wolf knows it and I know it. Even if we didn’t have all that history, it still isn’t right to turn my back on a woman in trouble.”
“Maybe you need to call in Reno and have someone a little more badass than you take over.”
Jericho stared Wheeler down with cutthroat eyes. “If that asshole laid one finger on Isabelle, you’re going to see an epic display of badassery.”
He shouldered past Wheeler and shoved his hand against the front door, flinging it open. A guy stepped out of Jericho’s path when he saw the vicious look in his eyes. Jericho hopped in the truck and slammed the door. He pulled the folder out and flipped on the interior light, heart racing like a bullet train.
The passenger door opened and the truck bounced as Wheeler got in. “Where are we going?”
 

Chapter 11
After watching me eat a bowl of cereal, Hawk left me alone in the bedroom for hours. He said if I behaved, he’d bring in a television. The last thing I wanted to do while handcuffed to a bed was watch Wheel of Fortune. I couldn’t be sure if he’d left the house, so I’d spent hours strategizing an escape and decided that shoving a nail into his eye socket would only piss him off and get both of my arms tied up again. Hawk had the key to my handcuffs, and even if I tried to fight him, I needed the key to escape. Did he carry it in his pocket? I had to be smart about this.
Later, he reappeared with an overcooked pork chop and soggy green beans from a can. I drank the soda but left the food alone. I thought about what that alpha had said to me at Howlers about going into heat. The precursory tingles were already happening sporadically. Soon it would turn into waves of heat, filling me with an uncontrollable desire to mate.
That was unacceptable in my current situation.
I had to get out.