Page 104 of Unhinged

“Done,” I say. “I’ll never leave.”

She rolls her eyes and heads upstairs, hips swaying like she doesn’t know what she just did to me.

I’m left in the basement, pants half down, cock still twitching, surrounded by the thick scent of sex and omega heat.

My killing room smells like her now.

Well, fuck.

I can’t have my victims enjoying themselves before they die.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

BRYDGETT

The scent of Acid and sweat clings to my skin like a secret I shouldn't have told. Acid’s knot is still a phantom ache deep inside me—stretching, pulsing, a brand I let happen. No,I choseto let happen.

Goddammit.

I hurry through the basement door, ignoring the slick between my thighs, sticky with heat and shame and something dangerously close to satisfaction. The basement smells like sex and mildew. I glance over my shoulder at Acid, still by the wall where he kissed the hell out of me, head leaned back, chest rising slow like he’s finally fucking relaxed for once in his life.

I should feel powerful. That was my game. My rules. But instead…

I press my palm to my abdomen. It’s not pain—it’s memory. The last knot I ever took was Earl’s. Almost ten years ago. My first heat. My last one thanks to blockers.

Until now. I’m not a moron. I’m playing a dangerous game right now with no blockers. My heat could hit at any time.

“Fuck,” I whisper, swallowing hard.

Arrow doesn’t even know yet.

I made him promise—swearhe wouldn’t knot me. And now? I go and suction Acid’s knot into me like I’m a goddamn Dyson.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” I mutter to the empty hall as I walk into the main part of the clubhouse. I move fast, like if I keep going, the guilt won’t catch up.

But it’s there. Every step, every breath.

How did I end up like this? Not just having sex with one alpha, buttwo.Two MC leaders with god complexes and possessive streaks a mile wide. Two men who’d raze the world if I told them to. Or if someone else touched me. And don’t even get me started on the third.

I need to talk to someone who gets it. Someone who won't look at me like I’m broken or stupid or about to shatter.

Georgia.

Voices ripple through the room—Arrow's low growl, front and center. He’s deep in conversation with Keg, Bat, and a few unfamiliar faces clustered near the pool table.

I pause just long enough to breathe.

“Brydgett!” Arrow’s voice booms across the room, and when I look over, he’s got this big-ass grin like he just won the damn lottery. “Come meet some of the other brothers!”

I pause for a second. My legs feel wobbly, like maybe they remember I just got absolutely wrecked in the basement. But I square my shoulders and walk over, pretending I’m not still full of Acid’s knot. Gross. Hot. Whatever. Not the time.

Arrow slings an arm around my back, all proud. “This is Nitro, Suave, Arky, and Stallion.”

They all grunt out something like hello, manly and rough, like they’ve practiced sounding intimidating. Except Suave.

He’s got this long, dark hair that falls just past his shoulders, and a face that’s so annoyingly perfect it looks edited. Like sharpcheekbones, strong jaw, full lips—the whole broody poster-boy deal. And his eyes? Light and kinda intense, like he’s about to read me poetry or steal my soul. Maybe both.

Then the scents hit me.. Everything all at once. Strong, heavy, crashing into each other like they’re fighting to be noticed.