Page 30 of Unhinged

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

GEARS

I pull my phone out of my pocket, hitting Keg’s number with a swift press of my thumb.

The ring cuts through the silence as I glance over at Brydgett, who’s still sitting in the chair looking every bit the badass she is.

She's a sight—stubborn as hell and just as beautiful.

But right now, there's a different fire burning in me, not the one I usually get when I look at her.

"Keg," I say, "get the other prospects down to the basement. We need a cleanup. Now."

There's a grunt of acknowledgment from the other end, the sound of rustling as Keg probably moves to get things together.

“Got it, Prez,” he replies before hanging up. I shove the phone back into my pocket, a quick motion that feels more mechanical than anything.

I turn back just in time to see Brydgett push herself to her feet, her eyes locking with mine—challenging and wild. I’ve heard of feral omegas before, but never truly believed the stories. This right here in front of me is truly feral.

“Well, boys," she begins, "this was fun. But I have an alpha to hunt and take down.”

And that’s when it hits me like a punch to the gut.

It’s not just that she’s dangerous—it’s that she is the Alpha Slayer .

There’s a coldness in her now, a disconnection from everything human.

She moves through this world like a predator, completely unbothered by the violence she’s capable of.

I’ve heard the rumors, sure, but seeing it up close, watching how she carries herself.

.. It’s real. This is real. She’s every bit the monster we thought, and something about it makes my cock harden… she was made for us.

I don’t give her a chance to move, grabbing her wrist before she can make a step toward the door.

There’s an immediate pulse of heat under my fingers, a sharp contrast to the icy irritation in my veins.

I’m not sure what bothers me more—the fact that she thinks she can do this alone, or that she’s still carrying the weight of everything she’s been through, and won’t let her alphas help her.

The hunter mentality in her is there, but so is the softness.

She’s barely holding it together, and she doesn’t even realize it yet.

My alpha demands I protect her in any way I can, even if that means adding fuel to her burning fire.

"Stay," I growl, forcing her to meet my gaze. The fire in her eyes flickers but doesn’t die. It only shifts, something like amusement sneaking in. She’s challenging me again, daring me to stop her. But now, I’m not just seeing her as a partner—I’m seeing her as a force .

She looks up at me, her eyes wild, unyielding. For a second, we stand there, staring at each other, fighting for dominance. She’s an omega, yes, but she’s not mine to command—not yet. Her pulse races under my grip, but she doesn’t give an inch.

"No," she responds, the word practically a hiss.

Her defiance is like a flame, but I’m not backing down.

"You’re hurt and still healing."

"I’ll be fine." Her tone is firm, but I can hear the strain, the lie wrapped in that boldness. She doesn’t fool me for a second.

Arrow steps up then, pressing a hand to my arm and gently pulling it off Brydgett’s wrist. His touch is light but firm, a reminder of just how well we work together.

"Please, stay. We can help you." His voice is soft, but there’s an urgency behind it.

Brydgett pauses, a flash of doubt crossing her face. She looks at both of us, then glances toward the door. It’s a battle, I can feel it—her pride fighting against her need for safety, for healing.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of silence, she sighs, her shoulders slumping just a little. "Fine," she mutters. "But only until I’m healed, and I can take care of Judge myself."

Arrow smiles, that rare, easy grin of his. “Deal.”

And just like that, she’s ours—at least for now. We head upstairs together, all three alphas flanking her, a silent show of solidarity.

The moment we get to the top, Brydgett doesn’t hesitate. She turns to me. "I need to see Judge."

Arrow and I exchange a glance. We both know it’s important to her, even if we’re still trying to figure out the full extent of everything she’s been through.

“Come on,” I say, leading the way toward the back of the clubhouse where our mom and sister live. It’s quieter back here, less chaotic than the main part of the building.

When we walk in, I see Judge in the middle of a game of Smash Bros , his hands flying across the controller.

He’s sitting on the couch next to Dillon, our annoying bratty teenage sister.

Our mom sits on the other side of the couch, her blonde hair shining under the low lights as she crochets quietly in the corner.

“Hey, Mom,” Judge mumbles, barely glancing up, his focus glued to the screen.

“You came back.” Dillon’s voice rings out with a smile, the joy clear on her face when she sees Brydgett.

Brydgett looks back at her, her lips curving into a half-smile but not quite reaching her eyes. "Didn’t really have a choice."

I step further into the room, moving aside so Brydgett can take a seat. Our mom looks up, meeting her eyes, and immediately waves her over.

“Sit,” she says.

Brydgett moves to sit down, and I notice the way she hovers near the edge of the chair, like she’s ready to bolt at any moment. My mom, though, doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’m Bettie,” my mom introduces herself, a gentle smile on her face as she nods toward the three of us. "Those knuckleheads' mom."

"Brydgett," she answers quietly, cautiously evaluating the situation.

“How are you feeling, love?” Mom asks, soft but knowing.

“Sore, but okay,” Brydgett responds. She winces slightly when she shifts in her seat, but she keeps it together. “Thanks for taking care of my son.”

“Anytime, honey,” Mom says, her gaze lingering for a moment on Judge, who’s now completely absorbed in the game. “He’s taken a fancy to Dillon here, and Dillon’s taken a fancy to you. Although, that might be because you gave her a car.”

Brydgett chuckles softly, almost like she’s surprised by her own reaction. “Yeah, I did do that, didn’t I?”

Dillon, with her youthful energy, pipes up immediately. “I’m not giving it back either.”

Brydgett laughs again, the sound a little more genuine this time. “Didn’t ask you to. I gave it to you fair and square. Although, something tells me a GTO isn’t your dream car.”

Dillon’s eyes light up. “Nope. Always wanted a pink Eclipse.”

Brydgett raises an eyebrow. “If I get you one, will you trade me back?”

“Seriously?” Dillon asks, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“Seriously,” Brydgett confirms with a wink.

“Done,” Dillon says quickly, as if she’s been waiting for that offer.

Brydgett nods, a faint smile on her lips. “I’ll see what I can do.”

I can't help but smile, watching the interaction between them. Even in the midst of everything, Brydgett still has a sense of humor, a spark that refuses to go out.

“Tell me about yourself, honey,” Mom pushes, her eyes never leaving Brydgett’s face.

I know my mom is about to fire a hundred questions at Brydgett, but our omega can handle herself. I need to focus on getting this club on the same page as us when it comes to her.

“We’re calling church, so keep her safe, Mom,” I say, cutting into the conversation.

Mom doesn’t argue. She simply waves us off with a nonchalant gesture, her attention already back on Brydgett, who’s glaring at me.

We head back into the main part of the clubhouse, the atmosphere now louder, more chaotic. The brothers are here, drinking, laughing, shooting pool.

“Church. Now!” I shout, commanding attention.

Without a word of complaint, everyone starts moving, heading toward the meeting room like soldiers called to attention. No one dares to show dissatisfaction—not unless they want to risk us docking their dues.

I take my seat at the head table, Arrow and Acid on either side of me, watching as the brothers file in. I bang the gavel on the tabletop—hard enough to make the room fall silent.

“I called church to share some information,” I say, standing up and addressing the room.

“The new woman you’re gonna see around here is Brydgett.

She’s ours.” I motion to Arrow, Acid, and myself.

“Our Ol’ Lady. She doesn’t know it yet, but she will be.

She’s our Kismet, and we expect you to act accordingly. Do you understand?”

A chorus of "Yes, Prez," echoes through the room.

“Now,” I continue, “Acid is gonna send a picture of a man to all of you. His name is Earl. He is not to be anywhere near Brydgett or the kid. Not even welcome in our town. I want to know if you see him. Do not interact. Follow and report back to me. Heard?”

“Heard,” they reply in unison.

We move on to other business—drug shipments, dealers, the usual. But then Suave pipes up.

“Have we found anything out on the Alpha Slayer?”

The question hangs in the air like a weight. I hate lying to my brothers, but I can’t tell them the truth—not yet.

“We have a lead,” I say, keeping my tone calm. “We’re close.”

A round of nods passes through the room, and then I adjourn church.

I head straight to my room, my thoughts racing faster than I can process them. The moment I step under the hot water in the shower, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I scrub my skin like I can wash away the feel of the basement, the sickening truth of what my omega has been through.

No wonder she’s hesitant to have alphas around her. No wonder she ran.