Chapter 82 Desperate Measures
Owen's POV
I woke up to the smell of stale coffee and the sound of Eric cursing beside me. My neck was stiff from sleeping at an awkward angle in the backseat, and for a moment, I couldn't remember where I was or why everything felt so wrong.
Then I heard the driver's panicked voice from the front seat, and reality came crashing back.
I sat up so fast my head spun, and I looked out the window at the unfamiliar street we were parked on. The buildings here were old and run-down, with peeling paint and rusted fire escapes, and there was a pawn shop directly in front of us with a faded sign that read "Apex Pawn Shop" in chipped gold letters.
"What the hell?" I said, my voice rising as I checked my watch and felt my stomach drop. It was nine fifteen. The bid presentation had started at nine, and we were supposed to have been there half an hour ago.
Eric was already pulling out his phone, his face pale as he scrolled through the screen. "My phone was on silent. I have forty-three missed calls from Briar."
I grabbed my own phone and saw the same thing. Dozens of missed calls, dozens of unanswered messages, and one final text from Briar that made my blood run cold.
[Twenty minutes. If you're not here, don't bother. I'll have Lily arrange your funerals.]
"You idiot!" I shouted at the driver, leaning forward and gripping the back of his seat. "You were supposed to take us to Apex Bio-Solutions! A biotech company! Not a shop!"
The driver flinched, his face flushing red. "I'm sorry, I just typed in Apex and the GPS—"
"I don't care what the GPS said!" I snapped. "Turn this car around right now and get us there as fast as you can."
The driver threw the car into reverse and cranked the wheel, trying to make a U-turn in the narrow street, but he was going too fast and the angle was too sharp. The back end of the car swung wide, and there was a sickening crunch of metal as we slammed into a parked pickup truck.
The impact threw me forward into the front seat, and I heard Eric swear as the aluminum case in his lap nearly flew out of his hands. The driver slammed on the brakes, and for a moment, everything was silent except for the hiss of steam coming from our crumpled front bumper.
Then the door of the pickup truck flew open, and a massive Beta wolf stormed out, his face twisted with rage.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he roared, his voice echoing down the street as he grabbed the driver by the collar and yanked him out of the car. "You just totaled my truck!"
I climbed out of the backseat, my hands shaking as I tried to assess the damage. The front bumper of our car was completely destroyed, the metal bent at an unnatural angle and the headlight shattered. There was no way we were driving anywhere in this thing.
He was still shouting, his aggressive pheromones flooding the street and making my wolf snarl in response. I forced myself to stay calm, to keep my voice steady even though I wanted to punch something.
"I'll pay for the damage," I said, pulling out my phone and opening my banking app. "How much do you want?"
He turned to glare at me, his eyes narrowed. "Three thousand dollars. Cash. Right now."
I gritted my teeth and transferred the money, showing him the confirmation screen. "There. It's done. Now let us go."
But he shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm not letting you leave until I verify the damage and file an insurance claim. You're staying right here."
"We don't have time for this!" I shouted, my control finally snapping. "We have to be somewhere, and if we don't get there in the next ten minutes, we're both dead."
He didn't budge, and I turned to see Eric already running down the street with the aluminum case clutched to his chest. He was heading toward the corner, trying to flag down a passing car, but the morning traffic in this part of the city was a nightmare. Cars were barely moving, their horns blaring in frustration, and there wasn't a single taxi in sight.
I ran after him, my heart pounding as I reached the intersection and looked around desperately for any way out of this mess. That's when I saw the old man standing next to a beat-up cargo motorcycle, loading boxes into the back compartment.
"Hey!" I called out, jogging over to him. "I need to borrow your bike."
The man looked up at me, his weathered face suspicious. "This isn't a rental service, kid."
"I'll pay you," I said, pulling out my wallet. "A thousand dollars. Right now."
He shook his head. "Not interested."
Eric appeared beside me, breathing hard as he set the case down carefully. He pulled out his own wallet and added it to the pile of cash in my hand. "Two thousand dollars," he said. "Take it or leave it."
He stared at the money for a long moment, and then he sighed and held out his hand. "Fine."
Eric grabbed the keys and swung his leg over the bike, his hands fumbling with the ignition as I climbed on behind him with the aluminum case clutched to my chest. The engine sputtered to life with a cloud of black smoke, and Eric twisted the throttle, pulling out into traffic without bothering to check for oncoming cars.
"Do you even have a license for this?" I shouted over the roar of the engine.
"No!" Eric shouted back, swerving around a sedan and nearly clipping the side mirror of a delivery truck. "But I'm not letting Briar kill us because we were too slow!"
The bike lurched forward, the engine whining as Eric pushed it as fast as it would go. We weaved through the gridlocked traffic, cutting between cars and running red lights, and I swore behind him as I struggled to keep the case balanced on my lap.
"Watch out!" I yelled, and Eric jerked the handlebars to the left just in time to avoid slamming into the back of a bus. The bike skidded sideways, the tires screeching against the pavement, and I felt my heart stop for a split second before Eric managed to regain control.
"Keep your eyes on the road!" I roared, my voice hoarse with panic.
---
Briar's POV
I stood in the presentation hall, watching Devon finish his pitch with the kind of polished confidence that came from years of practice. His team had set up an impressive display of their Wolf's Bane Relief Patch, complete with live demonstrations and a sleek video presentation that highlighted every feature of their product.
The judges were nodding along, clearly impressed, and I felt my chest tighten as I glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine forty-five. Eric and Owen still weren't here, and I had no idea if they were ever going to show up.
Lily leaned in close to me, her voice barely a whisper. "Briar, where are they? We're up next, and we don't have the sample."
I forced myself to smile, even though my hands were shaking. "Don't worry about them. I'll handle the presentation."
Devon finished his presentation and stepped down from the podium, his expression calm and satisfied as he returned to his seat. Sienna was smirking at me from across the room, her arms crossed and her gaze smug.
The moderator called my name, and I stood up, smoothing down the front of my blazer as I walked to the podium.
I pulled up the first slide on the presentation screen, a side-by-side comparison of Vance Botanicals and Montgomery Medical Group's market performance.
"Vance Botanicals has a product adherence rate of thirty-seven percent compared to Montgomery's thirty-one percent," I said, my voice steady as I let the data speak for itself.
"Our customer repurchase rate is sixty-eight percent, compared to Montgomery's fifty-four percent." Another pause, another pointed look at Devon, whose expression had gone from confident to wary.
"And our average product rating is four point eight stars, compared to Montgomery's four point six stars."
I moved to the next slide, the one that outlined our promotional strategy.
"We're not just selling a product," I said. "We're creating an experience. Every bottle of our wolfsbane relief spray will come with a scratch-off card. Ten percent of customers will win cash prizes, five percent will be entered into a raffle for an off-road vehicle, and the remaining eighty-five percent will receive discount codes or loyalty points."
I paused, letting the judges process the information, and then I delivered the final piece. "In the long term, we plan to partner with Apex Bio-Solutions to include our portable spray in a comprehensive wolf health management kit. This isn't just promotion. It's a gateway to long-term loyalty and cross-product synergy."
Sienna called out, "She wants Apex to market for her? What kind of logic is that?"
The moderator opened the floor for questions, and I braced myself, my hands gripping the edge of the podium.
Devon stood up, his expression polite but his eyes sharp with the kind of calculated precision that made my stomach tighten.
"Miss Vance," he said, his voice smooth and measured. "According to my information, Vance Botanicals recently lost all of its regional distributors."
I felt my jaw clench, but I kept my expression neutral as I prepared to respond. Before I could get a word out, however, one of Montgomery stood up, arms crossed and tone dismissive.
"They don't even have regional supermarket orders anymore."