Page 17 of Unhinged

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

GEARS

I’m not sure what’s worse: the throbbing in my head or the fucking pull inside me that’s dragging me under.

I sit on the worn leather chair in the clubhouse, spinning my whiskey glass between my fingers, the ice clinking lightly, but the sound feels distant.

My mind’s too busy to notice. It's consumed by her —Brydgett. That damn omega who’s been haunting me since the moment we took her, since the moment I decided I had the right to take whatever I wanted.

Acid and Arrow are pissed, and rightfully so.

She's not just any omega. She's a fucking serial killer, a cold-blooded one, and I let myself get tangled up in her. I can still see her face, a mix of fury and terror, when we grabbed her. The way she fought. It wasn’t fear I saw, though—it was something more dangerous, something I couldn’t ignore.

And now? Now, it's like I can't shake her off, no matter how hard I try.

Fuck.

I drag my hand through my hair, trying to steady my breath.

My club needs me. My brothers need me. Arrow’s out there, scouring the city, looking for her with the rest of the crew.

They’re in the wind, searching for the woman who might be the death of us all.

But right now, it’s not the club I’m thinking about. It’s her. It’s Brydgett.

“Gears.” Acid’s voice cuts through my thoughts. His heavy boots hit the floor as he strides in, his eyes glinting with concern. The fucking bastard knows me too well.

“What?” I grunt, rough from the lack of sleep, from the weight of everything I’m trying to juggle.

“You good?” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms, looking every bit like the enforcer he is. But there’s something else in his gaze—a warning, maybe? Or just the weight of knowing that what’s happening inside me is a ticking time bomb.

“I’m fine.” I don’t even believe it myself. The words taste like sandpaper, harsh on my tongue. “We find her. We get her back.”

Acid raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“That so? You sure it’s just ‘find her and get her back’?

Or is there something else going on?” He leans in slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I’m guessing there’s more and that it’s her that’s got you all worked up.

You’re putting out that mango and patchouli scent.

Been a while since I’ve smelled that on you. ”

He fucking knows. He knows exactly what’s eating at me.

He knows about the way I keep fucking thinking about her—her scent, the way her eyes burned with hatred, the way we had to restrain her just to get her to fucking cooperate.

And yet, she still haunts me. Her blood is still on my hands, and I want to touch her again, taste her anger, make her burn like I am.

I scowl at him, shifting in my seat. I can’t tell him the truth. I won’t. Acid’s my best friend. He’s the one who’s always had my back, but this? This feels like a weakness I can’t afford.

“I’m handling it.” I bite the words out, my jaw clenched tight.

“Uh-huh,” he says, pushing off the frame and stepping into the room. “You sure about that, Gears? You don’t look like you’re handling shit.”

The anger’s building inside me, a familiar heat that I can’t seem to put out.

I stand up, the chair scraping back hard against the floor.

I face Acid, eyes locked, and for a moment, I let the walls come down.

I let him see the struggle, the frustration, the pull toward her that’s stronger than I want to admit.

“I’m torn, Acid.” The rawness is there, the honesty.

“I should want her dead, you know? Should want her gone because she’s now a threat to the club, to everything we’ve worked for.

But I can’t stop thinking about her. About what it would be like to have her.

Hell, to own her. She’s the kind of omega that makes a man want to burn everything to the ground just to claim her. ”

Acid's silent for a beat, his gaze steady, unreadable. Then, he chuckles, but it's not the usual humor I’m used to. It’s dark.

“You know she won’t make it easy for us, right?” he says, a knowing edge in his words.

I don’t need him to tell me that. I already know. She’s the kind of woman who fights, who tears things apart because she’s been doing it her whole life. And I don’t fucking know if I want to tame her, break her, or just let her burn me alive.

“I’m not asking for easy,” I reply, the words sounding more like a warning than anything else.

He nods and steps closer, leaning in like he’s about to tell me a secret. “Just don’t lose yourself in this, Gears. Don’t let her make you forget what we are. What you are. This club needs its president, not some lovesick alpha chasing an omega who’s already shown she’ll cut us to pieces.”

His words hit hard, like a slap to the face. He’s right. I know it, deep down. But the more I think about her, the more I feel the pull of that fucking omega, the harder it is to keep the pieces of myself together.

“Like you're any better,” I growl, laced with a dangerous edge. “You think I’m the only one feeling this? You need to want her just as much as I do. Don’t act like you’re above it. You can feel it too, Acid.”

Acid’s eyes flicker with something that looks like frustration, or maybe it’s regret. Either way, he takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before sighing like he’s letting go of some damn burden.

“I do,” he mutters, the words heavy between us. “I want her. I fucking want her more than I can stand. But we have to keep it together, Gears. We can’t let this break us. If we fall apart, the whole damn club does, and that’s the last thing any of us need right now.”

He pauses, the weight of his words sinking in, before his gaze sharpens, locking onto mine. “We already have enough shit going on. We need to figure out who the fuck is getting tar all over our territory, or we won’t have a fucking club left to run, let alone a woman to fight over.”

His words cut through the fog in my head, slamming into me like a fucking truck.

He’s right. There’s a hundred things we need to deal with.

Our territory’s being fucked with, people are stepping on our turf, and the Renegades aren’t a charity—they don’t take kindly to outsiders thinking they can step in and claim what’s ours.

“We need to find her,” I grit out, barely hearing my own words.

We have to be close. Arrow’s relentless.

But that doesn’t make me feel better about it.

I’ll have to hunt her down, drag her back kicking and screaming, and force her to accept what’s happening.

But in the back of my mind, a darker part of me wants her to fight me.

Wants her to challenge me every step of the way, because that’s the only thing that makes sense anymore.

I don’t know if I can keep holding it together.

I don’t know if I want to.

But I will.

For the club.

For the brotherhood.

And maybe, just maybe, for her.

brYDGETT

The air in Ike’s house is thick with old leather, sweat, and the kind of silence that wraps around you like a heavy blanket.

A place you don’t need to talk much in—there’s a calmness here that Ike’s presence seems to command.

I can still feel the echo of his lessons in the walls, the weight of every move he taught me.

I inhale deeply as I stand in the dim hallway, my fingers trailing across the edge of the old wooden banister. Every step I take here feels like I’m walking in the shadow of my past, and a part of me wants to turn around and run back out the door. But I can’t.

Judge is in the living room, eyes glued to his game console.

He’s only eight but already, he’s glued to technology like it’s the only thing that’ll keep him safe in a world full of things that want to tear us apart.

I glance at him, my chest tightening. He doesn’t know everything.

He doesn’t know about the man who we are always hiding from.

He’s just a kid. My kid. And I’ll die before I let him get anywhere near him.

My thoughts slide back to Gears, Arrow, and Acid.

I’ve never felt the pull of anything like I do with those three.

It’s like there’s a thread tying me to them, invisible but strong.

Gears’ voice haunts me. Acid’s eyes scorch me with a heat that I swear leaves marks on my skin.

Arrow… Arrow’s touch is like fire and ice at once, a contradiction that makes my heart stutter in my chest.

But it’s a danger I can’t let myself get tangled in. I won’t let them pull me back into their world. Not with Judge depending on me.

Not after struggling most of my life and what I learned from Ike.

I step into the kitchen, the scent of coffee and frying bacon mixing with the familiar scent of musty gym gear, a strange comfort.

Ike’s home is nothing fancy—just a small two-story house tucked away in a quiet part of the country.

There’s a gym in the basement, complete with a heavy bag that’s seen better days, a few weights that are rusted at the edges, and a lot of old equipment that Ike refuses to throw out.

It’s where we trained after I earned his trust and moved from the gym to his house.

"You good?" Ike startles me. He’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with that knowing look in his eyes. He doesn’t need to ask; he already knows. But he does it anyway, like he’s still trying to read me in a way that no one else can.

I give him a tight nod, not trusting myself to speak. I don’t want to talk about it. Not now. Not with everything so close to the edge.

Ike crosses the room in a few long strides, his boots making a soft thud against the old wood floor. "You know you don’t have to keep running, right?" he says, gruff, but with a softness underneath that I rarely hear from him.

"I’m not running, Ike." The words feel like a lie the moment they leave my mouth. My eyes dart toward the window, the curtains pulled tight against the world outside, but the feeling of being watched is suffocating me. It’s like I can feel them, Gears and the others, out there somewhere, looking for me. Looking for us.

I turn away, trying to shake the thought. "I just need to figure things out."

Ike grunts, a sound that says everything he’s thinking. "I know you do. But running... that’s not the answer, kid."

I hate when he calls me that. "Kid." Like I’m still the same scared young omega he found on the streets all those years ago. Like I haven’t changed.

But I have changed. I’m not that person anymore.

I was a mess back then, barely clinging to my sanity.

Ike took me in when I had nothing. He showed me how to fight—not just with my fists, but with my mind.

He taught me to stalk, to move in the shadows, to kill when necessary.

Every lesson was hard, grueling. But it made me strong.

It made me capable of surviving in a world that had been cruel to me, to Judge.

It’s the reason I’m still here, still alive, while the people who once controlled me are long gone.

He gave me the skills I need, even if I didn’t want to use them.

The sound of Judge’s laughter breaks through my thoughts, and for a moment, I allow myself to relax, to smile. I look over my shoulder at Ike, and there’s something in his eyes that’s different from the usual hard exterior he wears.

"I can’t let my guard down, Ike," I whisper. "I can’t. Not with Judge. He can never know about him." My voice cracks on the last sentence. I hate that it does. I hate that the thought of him makes me feel weak.

Ike’s eyes narrow, and he steps closer, his hand resting on my shoulder.

It’s a simple touch, but it grounds me in a way I don’t expect.

"You’ve got fight in you, Brydgett. I’ve seen it since the day I met you.

And I know you’ve got the strength to deal with Earl.

But don’t do it alone. You don’t have to now, not if you don’t want to. "

My stomach drops at the mention of his name. I glare at Ike, my chest tightening. “Don’t say his name.”

Ike fires back without missing a beat. "A name doesn't have power, Brydge.

You say his name and tell yourself he doesn't have power over you anymore.

You've been safe all these years, and if he does show up, you know how to handle him now.

You're not some weak omega going through her first heat, hoping the people who should love you will help.

You're Brydgett Hale. I gave you my last name because you are strong and worthy enough to carry it. You owe the Osbournes nothing."

His words stick with me, gnawing at the edges of my mind. But there’s a part of me, deep down, that knows he’s right. I can’t keep running forever.

But if I face my Kismets again… If I let them close, if I give in, then I risk everything. Not just for me. But for Judge too.

I won’t lose him.

But I know that the time to choose will have to come soon. Sooner than I want it to. The pull is getting stronger, and I can feel it in the way my heart skips when I think of them. When I think of Gears, of Acid, of Arrow.

I can’t let myself fall back into that world. But the harder I fight it, the more the bond burns through me.

I take a deep breath and step away from Ike, my eyes moving toward the living room where Judge is still lost in his game.

“I’m not asking for your help, Ike,” I say quietly, the strength returning to my words. “But I will protect him. I will protect Judge. No matter what.”

Ike nods, his face hardening, but his gaze softens just a little. He knows the stakes. And even though he’d never admit it, I know he’s proud of me. But I can’t afford to let that pride be the thing that breaks me.

I can’t afford to let anyone close.

At least, not anymore.