Joe sat on the thin mattress after Abby’s brother dragged her away, the echo of the door still ringing in his ears. He clawed uselessly at the snarls in his beard and hair, fingers catching and tugging as if he could pull the thoughts out along with the knots.
Abby had a brother.
A brother who’d grabbed her wrist and yanked her away like Joe was something dangerous. Like she needed to be rescued from him.
He couldn’t blame him.
Joe cringed at the image of what must’ve followed. Raised voices. Accusations. Abby trying to explain. Had she told him? Had she told him they were mates?
He hoped to hell she hadn’t.
She didn’t need that stain on her. Didn’t need the shame of being tied to him in any way. Lucas already knew, and even that felt like too much. Joe didn’t want anyone else findin
