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Chapter Sixteen

Saylor

I ’m not sure if it’s stress or ramifications from stopping the suppressants, but I’m sicker than I’ve been yet. More than likely, it’s a combination of the two, but no matter how hard I try to trick my system into believing everything will be fine, I just can’t seem to force away the spiraling thoughts.

It’s the longest day on lockdown yet. They served breakfast and lunch, but I can’t keep anything down to the point of dry heaving when I run out of stomach acid to vomit up. My fever hovers concerningly high, and knotting is off the table to help bring it down.

I’m in the middle of an autistic meltdown, and I know I’m not acting rationally. Normally, I want cuddles and comfort, but my skin itches, and I feel like I’m suffocating when they touch me.

It makes me feel guilty. They’ve done nothing wrong, and I still can’t self-regulate well enough to act like a normal human being. I hate it. If I could choose how to react, it wouldn’t play out like this.

Omen’s and Valor’s concern is evident, and they still honor my request to let me rest alone until it passes.

I have so many regrets. I’m not sure what I could have done differently, but it’s clear I made mistakes.

I should have pushed harder for Leo and Shaw to bite me.

All the concerns about how we’ll get them out of here are piling up, and they’re so overwhelming that I give in to the misery and let myself cry it out.

* * *

Instead of dinner, we get a rude wake-up call.

The guards drag us from the cell with no notice—only letting me stop to pull on sweats and my terrible tennis shoes. They’re much more aggressive with Valor and Omen than they are with me, but I’m nauseated to the point I have to focus on not puking on the floor.

My terror only ratchets higher as they lead us out into what looks like a hangar or garage. They have Omen’s and Valor’s hands cuffed behind their backs, and I stumble a step as they pull black bags over their heads.

“No, please,” I beg, shaking my head and trying to yank my arm away from the guard who holds my wrist. “I’m still sick from the suppressants. I will panic and puke. I’m already running a fever.”

“I’m sure Amato will reap the rewards of an omega on the verge of going into heat,” the guard says in a thick accent. His hold on my wrist tightens almost painfully, and terror rips through my system.

That is not happening.

I’ll find a weapon and end Amato myself before I allow that to happen.

“Enough,” McCabe says, striding closer. The other guards have their helmets on, but he’s in a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. “I’ll prepare the omega for transport. See where you can help out with the others.”

The guard at my side bristles but releases me.

McCabe grabs my arm, dragging me closer to the wall. “Hands in front. I’m not going to cuff you behind your back.” My hands fly into position, and I try to think through what I can say to appeal to him to help get Leo and Shaw out of here. “There is no way they’ll let you out of here without being blindfolded, but I’ll ask them not to put the hood over your head.”

“Thank you,” I say, swallowing thickly as the cuffs are locked around my wrists. “Is there any way you can help?—”

“Once you make it out of here, I suggest you forget about the facility completely. Don’t talk about it. Don’t try to stir up trouble or stick your politician father on trying to get it shut down. Very powerful men keep this place in business. You want those men to forget you even exist.” McCabe drops to a crouch by my feet. He slides something small and metal into the side of my tennis shoe, and it jabs into my foot almost painfully. “If the shit hits the fan, unlock your cuffs, and get low to the ground. There’s no shame in hiding if it keeps you alive. Remember that.” He pops back up, grabs my forearm, and pulls me toward the van they’re loading Omen and Valor into.

God.

This guy is ridiculously confusing. I still don’t understand if he’s an ally or not.

* * *

The scent of my fear is heavy in the confined space of the van. They blindfolded me. It’s not as bad as a hood or bag or whatever they put on Omen and Valor, but it’s got my anxiety trying to convince me I’m dying.

I understand I’m okay for the minute, but all my anxiety can focus on is how quickly I’d be done for if this vehicle went off the road and into a body of water.

It’s irrational.

I don’t know if we’re anywhere near any lakes or oceans or rivers, but my head won’t let it go.

I replay scenarios over and over, trying to come up with a way I could save Omen and Valor if we ended up submerged in a cold river. I’d first have to go for the handcuff key and get my cuffs undone, then I’d get them out of theirs. I just have no idea how I’d deal with the guards.

There are at least three in the vehicle with us. Two up front and one on the right side of my row. I don’t think there’s anyone in the back row with Omen and Valor, so it’s probably just three.

* * *

I’m hyper and a little manic as I bounce in my seat, trying to keep from crawling out of my skin.

The vehicle comes to a stop, and the guards converse in what I think is German. A whole new set of regrets take over. I really should have studied more languages in school.

The front doors open, and it sounds like the guards slide over the seats as they push themselves from the vehicle.

“You’re going to duck your head and exit to your left,” a man’s voice says close to my right ear. My seat belt unclicks and flies back into the holder as the door to my left rolls open.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Valor says, speaking for the first time since we left the facility garage.

“Shut the fuck up! No one told you to talk,” the guard at my side growls. “You, scoot forward and twist to your left. You’re going to have a step down. Don’t miss it.”

“Slide your foot forward, once you hit air, you’ll know you need to stretch for the ground,” Omen says, completely ignoring what the guard just said.

The guard’s warmth leaves my side, and a low thumping sound fills the air, followed quickly by an oomph from Omen. My head whips to the right, but a hand wraps in my hair, shoving me back the other direction.

God.

I hate everyone from the facility.

They’re fucking awful.

As proved by the fact the man doesn’t even give me the chance to get my bearings before he slides his other hand under my left arm, shoving me from the vehicle with no further warning.

I pull my feet free of the floorboard and fly from the vehicle before I can right myself. The guard keeps me from face-planting by tugging my hair and holding my ribs.

I stagger into a body that shoves me back, still unable to see anything due to the blindfold. In my panic, my cuffed hands rise, and I pull them to my face, ripping the cover off before I even know what I’m doing.

“Who the fuck told you to do that?” a different male voice asks from just beside me.

The first guard releases me and climbs back into the vehicle, likely to help Omen and Valor out…if you can even call what he’s offering assistance .

Warm hands land on my biceps, and my head whips up.

An older man with blond hair and blue eyes smiles down at me. It’s a dangerous kind of smile that has me whimpering as I try to back away.

There’s no way to guess his age.

He has crinkles by his eyes and gray near his temples and in his beard near his sideburns.

“No need to block such a lovely face,” the man says with a thick British accent. “Dante Amato, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Y-You too,” I lie.

“There are two more coming your way,” the guard at my right says. “Move. Perhaps now is a good time for you to get her into your transport vehicle?”

“Of course,” Amato says, pulling me forward a few steps. We stand face-to-face, but he reaches under my arm, linking his hand over the top of my forearm. It successfully holds me in place without much force. “My, my, you are a beauty. Valor has excellent taste. I trained him well. I couldn’t have chosen better if I made the call myself.”

I really do not like the way he’s talking. It’s almost like he’s insinuating he’s welcome in my pack, which he is not .

Fear courses through my system as his citrusy scent hits my nose. It’s spicy, not appealing in the least, and I ache to get as far away from him as possible.

“Tell me, have my men been good to you?” Amato asks, studying my face.

I don’t know why he’s putting on a nice guy act, but I don’t buy it.

Not even for a millisecond.

My instincts are convinced he’s a threat, and the overwhelming urge to run hits me square in the chest, making it hard to breathe.

A whine sits heavy in the back of my throat, and I bite my cheek to keep it from escaping. The only thing it’ll do is amp up Valor’s need to get to me, and that could put him in danger. I whimper at the thought and glance over my shoulder at the door to the van.

The guard who pulled me out is in the doorway, so I can’t see Omen or Valor.

“I’m told you speak English,” Amato says, gripping my forearm painfully. “You’ll learn this, but I don’t appreciate being ignored.”

“I’m sorry,” I lie, swallowing thickly. “I’ve been sick for days. It’s hard to focus. I don’t mean to be rude. Please, forgive me.”

“Such a sweet girl. You and I are going to get along just fine.” Amato grins and reaches up, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Your skin is burning mine. Might I hazard a guess that your heat is coming?”

I open my mouth to answer, but all hell breaks loose.

Several whooshing thwacks fill the air, and my head swivels just in time to spot the blood and bone matter. The facility guard closest to the hood of the van slumps over it.

A shrill shriek escapes my lips as blood sprays from his helmet. The caved-in hole in the side of the plastic is a gruesome sight that I barely get to focus on as Amato uses his hold on my arm to pull me to the ground. He shakes his hand free of my arm, shoving me violently.

I land on my ass, skidding across the concrete.

More silenced gunshots fill the air.

My back is to the van, and I use my feet as leverage to scramble closer to it. The guard who pulled me from the vehicle falls against the pavement with a hole in his vest. The bullet must have gone all the way through his body. A river of dark red blood spills from under him and across the concrete.

Amato’s guard was at his side the last time I saw him, but he crouches and takes two shots. I have no idea who he’s aiming at. I don’t know where the third facility guard is or where the rest of Amato’s men are.

That doesn’t matter.

Okay, it really does, but it’s not like I’m going to be able to help.

What I need to do is focus on keeping myself alive. If I die, it’ll be pure agony for Valor and Omen. I don’t know if the van gives them any added protection, but I do know I’m a sitting duck.

Amato’s man focuses on me right as I pull my feet closer to my body to attempt to go for the handcuff key.

He aims at my forehead, but Omen flies out of the open van door. He’s still cuffed, but his hands are now in front of him. He tackles Amato’s guard, which I guess is someone he used to work with.

There’s arguing and loud noises and screaming that all overwhelm my already frazzled senses.

Omen struggles, fighting against Amato’s guard, but the man pulls his gun arm up like he’s trying to aim at Omen.

That sends me into motion.

I awkwardly crawl across the concrete, using one hand and kind of rolling onto my shoulder. If he takes a wide shot, he’ll be aiming at the van that Valor is still inside.

Oh, and right where I just was.

The handcuffs make the whole process a million times harder, but I ignore the scrapes the concrete leaves on my skin and focus on getting where I’m going.

Omen slams his forehead into the other man’s face, and the gun goes off. The bullet embeds into the concrete only a foot from where I was sitting.

Shrieking, I fall on my shoulder hard. It’s a struggle to get back to my hands and knees position when I can’t separate my wrists, but I manage it. Staying wide, I crawl up until I’m level with the man’s shoulder and link my hands together as much as possible with my limited range of motion.

This could go so badly, but Omen is cuffed too. He’s not in a position to block the man if he turns the gun directly on him.

I’m now facing the van instead of having my back to it, and Valor is inside, bent over in the back seat. If another bullet leaves that gun, it could slam right into him.

My chest rises and falls in rapid pants, and it feels like time slows down as I decide to act.

Omen is using his left leg to try to trap the man’s gun arm, but I pounce. My hands land on the man’s forearm, and it’s surprisingly easy to hold it to the concrete.

Maybe having my hands cuffed together gives me more strength at a fixed point?

I have no idea, but I slide my hold down to his wrist and twist. The gun falls against the concrete with ease.

“Holy shit.” I blink in confusion but snatch it up before anyone else can.

“Are ya all right?” Omen asks as several unsilenced gunshots fill the air. They come from the direction of the vehicles Amato brought, and my head whips to the side as I stagger to my feet.

Amato crouches near the back of one of the SUVs that I assume must belong to him. His back is to me, but I’m pretty sure he’s preparing to shoot someone.

The gun is heavy as I pull it up, but I do my best to aim, despite how shaky I feel.

It feels like a million years ago that Shaw went over firearm safety with me. He even promised to take me to the shooting range if my father okayed it. However, my dad must have nixed that idea because Shaw never brought it up again, but he did make sure I understood how to stand, aim, and check for a safety—which I don’t see on this model.

I line up with what I think is Amato’s spine and tell myself to act now before he even knows he’s in danger.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Omen asks from behind me.

It startles me so much that I pull the trigger, flying back from the recoil.

Jesus.

I’m lucky I didn’t give myself a black eye or knock myself out.

Amato’s shoulder flies forward, and a bright red bullet hole appears in the back of his suit coat.

My jaw falls as my hands fly up.

I aim at Amato all over again, but I’m shaking so badly, it feels dangerous to take another shot.

“It’s just me,” Omen says, and his warmth appears at my back. “Damn, woman. Good shot.”

“Are you okay?” Valor’s voice comes from somewhere near the van, but I don’t take my eyes off Amato as he spins, pulling his gun up.

Only, he never gets to pull the trigger. His right arm is ripped down as a knife slides across his throat from behind.

Shaw’s blue eyes meet mine over Amato’s shoulder as Valor’s old boss slumps, pulling his left hand up to try to stop the bleeding.

I thought that someone having their throat slit would produce massive squirts of blood, but it’s more of a cascading ripple. It could be that Amato is blocking the artery as he clutches at his neck.

Shaw shoves him to the ground, and I sob.

My head shakes, making my hair fall over my eyes. Come to think of it, my whole body trembles, especially my knees.

I’m a little concerned I’m hallucinating.

This doesn’t feel real.

“Ridge.” A massive man steps around the back of the van, but I’m so frazzled that I pivot in his direction, still aiming the gun. He points at his chest and says, “Friend. I’m with Shadow Security. Don’t shoot me.” My head tilts when I spot the reflective aviator sunglasses. It’s the middle of the night. My hand shakes, and he growls, raising both his palms. “I said don’t fucking shoot me .”

“You’re okay, little one.” Valor steps in front of me. He’s still cuffed behind his back, but just seeing him is enough to cut through my frazzled instincts. “The fighting is over.”

“Lower the gun, pet.” Omen nuzzles his face to mine from behind as his hands tease over my lower back.

Fuck.

That’s right.

He’s still cuffed too.

Pointing the gun at the ground, I turn around and shove the weapon into Omen’s hands.

My eyes fly up, and I stumble backward. His entire face is covered in blood that drips down his jaw and onto his shirt. It’s thickest around his mouth, and I frown, trying to figure out what happened.

“Oh, God. Are you okay?” I ask as Valor’s scent envelops me from behind.

Omen laughs. “I’m fine, darling.”

“Did you bite him?” I ask, feeling a little dazed.

“The fucker had a hard head,” Omen says, shrugging. “Luckily, his neck wasn’t sporting any armor.”

“That’s kinda gross,” I hear myself say.

“Yes, well, I needed to put an end to him quickly, and my options were limited, thanks to the cuffs.” Omen chuckles. “I told you. There are very few lines I wouldn’t cross to keep you safe.”

My heart thumps erratically. That is surprisingly sweet, but my head is still stuck on something else.

“I got the gun.” I shake my head. “I thought it was easy, but I knew I had to do something.”

“You did great,” Valor says soothingly.

“I shot Amato, but Shaw killed him.” I gasp, spinning around and face-planting into Valor’s chest. “Oh God. Shaw is here. I saw him. I think I did. Did I make that up? Am I hallucinating?”

“Nah, princess,” Shaw says from somewhere from behind Valor. “We’re here. Leo and I are safe. He’s making his way down from his vantage point now.”

My knees get weak, and my vision goes a little hazy.

Holy shit.

I think I’m in shock.