Page 146 of Traded

Somehow, I can’t see them stopping her. I find myself impressed.

“Sit your ass down,” I say tightly. “She’s going. We’re leaving in a minute.”

“Carter.” Jonas laughs, but there’s a strange pitch to it. His voice lowers. “Seriously, man. She’s my scent match. You don’t need to get involved in this.”

“I’m your damn pack alpha.” I hold his gaze until he drops it. “And hers, right now. So do as you’re told andsit the fuck down.”

He turns without a word and drops back into his seat. I twist, checking she’s actually off the plane and drop back into my seat, digging in my pocket for the bottle and flipping my thumb under the lid.

Stopping, I stare down at it. My thumb rubs against the plastic lid, and I tilt it, my lips moving as I count.

That’s not right. Frowning, I count them again.

I had one hundred and twenty pills…ten days ago? Twelve, maybe? I’m losing fucking track.

And now… I count again.

Eighteen.

My gaze moves from the bottle to my shaking arm, and I set it down on the table without opening it.

“Morning, everyone.”

The pilot’s voice comes over the intercom as I run my hands over my face.

“Flight time to Seattle today is about five hours.”

More than a hundred pills in ten days.

“We've got good weather most of the way, with a light chop expected over the mountains during descent.”

Rosie’s been on my case, but I thought I had it handled. Under control.

“Should be an easy ride. Sit back and enjoy the flight."

Maybe it’s not under control at all.

Maybe it’s me that’s under control.

I stay where I am for the first hour. I pull out my phone and go through my emails, noting every prescription I’ve been given since the lunch meeting with Martin and adding them up until I slam my phone down, breathing raggedly.

“Cart.” Liam’s hand claps my shoulder before he slides into the empty seat opposite me. “Can we talk?”

“No.” I lurch to my feet, searching over the rows for Dick or Martin. “Really not a good time.”

They look up as I loom over them. “Can I have a word?”

“Sure.” Martin tips his thumb at Viktor and Gabe. “Give us a minute, will ya?”

Gabe slides out, eyeing me. “Everything good?”

“Great.” I flash him a smile, wondering if it looks as unsteady as I feel because he doesn’t look reassured. “Just need a sec.”

I slide into Vik’s vacated space, my hand reaching for my neck again before I curl my fingers into a fist and force it down. The neck of my shirt feels damp.

Martin and Dick swap a glance I can’t read.

“How you doing, Carter?” Dick leans forward. Clearly, he’s been tagged as it.