Melinda’s Wolves(81)

A loud crash outside brought Keegan to his feet. He followed Mitch out of the trailer and lifted his hand to block the late afternoon sun as the two of them scanned the area to see what happened.

Braden ran past them. “Someone fell into a pit,” he yelled over his shoulder.

“What was the crashing sound?” Keegan asked, coming up beside the foreman at a jog.

“A section of framework.”

Keegan couldn’t believe this was happening. Why? Usually months went by on a construction site without as many injuries as he could count in the last few days. It was ludicrous.

As he reached the hole a man had fallen into, he came to an abrupt stop. Behind the crowd of people leaning over the embankment and shouting down at the fallen man was a replica of the very same black shadow he’d seen that morning in his bedroom.

The cloud coalesced into a form that reminded Keegan of a bear—the same bear he’d seen in his bedroom. It hovered, gliding forward as if to see into the hole better.

And then it seemed to focus on Keegan, the edges of the form shimmering in the sunlight.

Keegan felt drawn to it, his body propelled forward by a force he couldn’t explain. He ignored the rescue mission around him and stepped to the other side of the hole, never once taking his gaze off the shadow.

The cloud turned with him, following his movements.

The closer Keegan got, the more his anxiety should have risen. Instead he felt a sense of calm. Why?

The shadow seemed to reach out to him, as though it had hands, palm up, encouraging Keegan to approach.

Keegan eased forward. As he reached the cloud, standing less than a foot away, he lifted a hand. And between one blink and the next, the shadow disappeared. Like magic. Poof. And it was gone.

Keegan spun around in a circle, certain he would find the spirit relocated behind him or to one side.

Nothing.

Someone grabbed his arm. “Phillips,” the voice said. He registered the sound, but it seemed to be filtered as though it came to him from under water. Or he was in a bit of a trance…

He shook himself and faced the speaker.

Mitch.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Keegan licked his lips. “Nothing.”

“You look like you’re talking to a ghost.”

Keegan tried to chuckle. “That’s absurd.”

Mitch didn’t find it funny. “I would have thought so too, except I watched you with my own eyes. You were like a zombie drawn to blood the way you stepped around everyone to reach this spot.”

Keegan looked away. Mitch may have been his closest friend outside of Trace, but no way in hell was he about to tell the man what he’d seen. In fact, he wouldn’t believe it himself if he hadn’t already experienced something similar that morning and heard equally entertaining tales from his mate.

Except they weren’t tales. This was real. As real as strange visiting spirits could be. What did it mean?

Whoops of excitement came from behind Keegan, and he ignored Mitch’s comments to let his gaze land on the man being hauled out of the pit.

Keegan’s shoulders relaxed as he watched the guy wave at the crowd of onlookers. Thank God.

“I need to go,” Keegan said to Mitch. “I’ll see you here in the morning? Eight?”

Mitch nodded, his head cocked to one side. “Not even going to ask.”

“Yeah. That’s a good plan.”

Keegan knew exactly where he was headed. And it wasn’t home.





Chapter Twenty-Two


As Keegan climbed into his truck, he pulled out his cell phone and flipped through his contacts until he found Griffen.

His brother-in-law answered on the first ring. He sounded tired. “Hey.”

“Griffen. I need your help.”

“Anything. What’s the matter?”

“I need to speak to your grandmother. Can you give me her address?”

“Of course, but I can do even better. She’s here right now.”

Perfect. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. And Griffen?”

“Yeah, I can read between the lines—this is between you and me.”

“Thanks.” Keegan hung up and started the engine.

In record time he pulled up at Griffen’s house, cringing to be imposing on the new father and his mates. But it couldn’t be helped.

He climbed down from the truck and headed for the porch. As he reached the steps he nearly jumped out of his skin to find Mimi sitting on the porch swing, swaying back and forth. “Son.” She scooted to one side and patted the vacated space. Her small frame seemed frail. Her hands shook. Her gray hair was pulled back in a tight bun. She was exactly the image of what Melinda would look like in sixty years. It was hard for Keegan to not soak in that thought.

At the same time, Keegan felt a trail of unease creep up his spine. “Did Griffen tell you I was coming?”