The instant the plane landed, we became guilty of trespassing. In the south-central Pride, such an offense was punishable by immediate capture and expulsion, for a first offense. Unfortunately, since trespassing is not a capital crime, the exact consequences were left up to each individual Alpha. And something told me Malone wouldn’t be quite as forgiving as my father.

In fact, I had no doubt he’d kill Jace and Marc on sight and trump up a charge later—unless either his wife or daughter was there to object. And something told me Malone wouldn’t mind if it took a bit of subduing to get me under control, so long as no permanent damage was done. Because he had plans for me—or at least for my ring finger and my uterus.

Which made me the member of our team with the least to lose, since I had no intention of actually serving my sentence.

Since he hadn’t yet been officially rehired, Marc didn’t have his business credit card, so Jace put the rental car in his name. He looked a little too eager for the privilege—until we got to the parking lot and Marc held the back door open for me. Jace grumbled about being treated like a chauffeur, so I made Marc sit up front with him, so I could stretch out in the back.

A nap would have been awesome, but I had a feeling we’d need every minute of the two-hour drive ahead to plan our next moves.

The Appalachian Pride was headquartered in the southern end of Clay County, Kentucky, about a hundred and ten miles southeast of Lexington. It was nearly two in the morning by the time we left the airport. We’d spent almost nine of our allotted forty-eight hours and the return trip would take at least that long, which left us roughly thirty hours to find the evidence and get the hell out of the Appalachian territory in time to save Kaci. And that would be cutting it close.

Kaci was thirty-nine hours from death. I was thirty-nine hours and one minute from a total breakdown.

We stopped for burgers at the first all-night fast food place we found, using the drive-through to keep from leaving our scents on the door handles and seats, or even lingering in the air. The last thing we needed was for one of Malone’s toms to tip him off before we even got to his property. The chances of any of his men actually living in middle-of-nowhere Kentucky were slim to none, but considering the stakes at hand, Murphy’s Law seemed more like a guarantee.

“So, you grew up running around the Appalachian foothills?” Marc said a few miles later, folding the wrapper back from his burger.

Jace nodded and swallowed his own bite, one hand holding the top of the steering wheel lightly. “Technically, this is the Cumberland Plateau.”

“Whatever.” I loosened my seat belt and leaned forward to be sure I wouldn’t miss anything. Like Marc, Jace hardly ever spoke about his past. They both knew everything about my childhood, but I knew nothing about Marc’s and only that Jace’s father had died when he was a toddler, and still an only child. “Did you run with your brothers?” Surely half brothers were better than no brothers.…“Did Malone let Melody run with you guys?”