Avenger (Outsider Series)

by Smeltzer, Micalea

  “You will find her again.” I saw him look at me out of the corner of my eye but I refused to meet his gaze.

  “I know,” I finally said.

  But what we both left unspoken was would I find her alive?

  I slowly stood, gazing around at the barren trees. I knew ahead of me was the makeshift grave where Leslee Grimm was buried. In the end, she’d turned out to be a good person and didn’t deserve the demise she met—death by the hand of her own husband. I was convinced Peter and Travis Grimm were the most sadistic people to ever walk the planet. They didn’t care who they hurt or who they killed. I wondered how many they’d killed that we’d never know about. And look at all the innocent lives lost with Travis’ need to make mutants. I didn’t understand how anyone thought killing someone was okay. I guess that made me a hypocrite, I’d killed before, but because I had to. Not because I wanted to, and there was a big difference.

  I came to my feet and walked swiftly over to where I knew leaves and other debris hid the cellar door. I brushed them out of my way until I found the door and thrust it open. I descended into its damp depths, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. If I inhaled I could just pick up the lingering scent of cookies—of Sophie. My throat constricted painfully and I knew I was about thirty seconds away from having a breakdown. I didn’t need Nolan too see me lose it like this, so I carefully schooled my features as his feet thumped on the steps behind me.

  “Whoa,” he breathed, taking in the medieval looking gurney Sophie had been strapped to. “That’s…”

  “Creepy?” I supplied, sweeping my fingers along the metal.

  “Yeah, definitely creepy. It reminds me of a horror movie, and knowing what happened to Sophie…” I saw him shrug out of the corner of my eye. “That’s tough.”

  “You have no idea,” I whispered.

  Being here, seeing this, smelling her scent—it was getting to me. I felt sick to my stomach.

  “Are you ready to head back?” Nolan asked.

  “No,” I shook my head, still looking around the small damp space. “I-I-need to be here for a little while longer.”

  Nolan leaned against one of the dirt walls, not saying a word. I think he knew I needed this. Although, anymore I didn’t know what exactly it was I needed. True, like I told him, being here gave me hope that since I’d found her once I could find her again…but there was more to it than that. I just didn’t know what the more was.

  My eyes scanned over the metal table and my breath caught at the sight of several dark hairs clinging to the corner. There were still bloodstains on the table—blood my sweet Sophie had bled out. She hadn’t deserved that and she certainly didn’t deserve whatever shit it was that Travis was dealing her now.

  I ran my finger along the cold slab, stopping when I reached the strands of hair. My throat clenched painfully and I couldn’t breathe.

  A strangled cry bubbled out of my throat, and my shoulders tensed together knowing Nolan was once again seeing me breakdown. I couldn’t be strong no matter how hard I tried. Sophie was my mate, and without her I didn’t know how to function. I knew that was a silly thing to think. I’d certainly functioned normally before I met her. But once she came into my life, she made me better. She made me a better brother, son, friend, and lover. She owned me, even though she didn’t know it. Having her, and losing her, was the most painful thing I’d ever experienced. And knowing that she was somewhere suffering tore me apart.

  I rubbed my chest; worrying about her and Beau was making my heart squeeze painfully. Could shifters have a heart attack? If we could, I was pretty sure I was about a second away from having one.

  “You okay?” Nolan asked from the shadows.

  What was the point in lying? “No. I’m not okay. In fact, I’m not sure I’m ever going to be okay again.”

  “You’re going to find her.” His voice was full of a determination I was lacking at the moment. I shouldn’t have come here again, and certainly shouldn’t have come into the cellar. This wasn’t healthy for me. “You know that.”

  It was a statement, not a question, but I found myself answering anyway. “I know,” because I’d never stop looking for my she-wolf, “but when I do find her, how much damage will have already been done to the both of us? And I’m not talking about the physical here. I know we can both handle that. But it’s the scars inside—the ones no one can see—that tear into you and rip you apart, never healing.”

  “Sophie’s a fighter,” he clapped me on the shoulder, “she’s feisty and that girl has a fire in her. If anyone can go through something traumatic and come out okay, I know it’s Sophie. And you can too, Caeden. You’re way stronger than you give yourself credit for. You’re an amazing Alpha, nothing like the shitty one you believe you are. You expect too much of yourself. You’re young, and this life isn’t easy.” He swallowed thickly. “You’ve been dealt a lot of shit, Caeden, and I understand why you’re losing it right now. But Sophie needs you to keep your head on straight. Wherever she is, she’s in no shape to fight or get away—it’s your job to help her.”

  “I know that,” I growled.

  I was getting really sick and tired of these lengthy pep talks from Nolan. Had he spent a summer being a camp counselor or something? Where did he come up with this stuff?

  “I know she needs me right now, but the problem is I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know where she is. And until I find out where Travis is keeping her, I can’t very well come up with a plan.”

  Nolan sighed. “Just know, you have a pack standing beside you, and you have me too. That is if you want this tiger’s help,” he winked.

  Leave it to Nolan to lecture me like he’s my dad and then crack such a corny joke.

  “Of course I want your help,” I turned away from him, reaching out to stroke the strands of hair still clinging to the table. I was kind of amazed that they were still here. It had been over a year since Sophie was held here—but this place, it was like it was stuck in time. It would always serve as a disturbing memorial to what Sophie had suffered.

  I closed my eyes, remembering everything Travis had done to her before. She still hated seeing the word liar carved into her arm. I knew though, that what she’d suffered then in no way compared to how she was suffering now. Travis thrived on causing pain and Sophie was incredibly weak right now. If we lost the baby because of Travis I could not be held accountable for my actions. I’d lose it. I already felt like I’d had so much ripped away from me—my dad, my youth, my mate—I couldn’t bear the thought of losing my child as well. Especially before I even had the chance to get to know him.

  My stomach clenched again and I thought for sure I was going to throw up this time, but I didn’t.

  It was scary to think that one person held the fate of the rest of your life in their hands. Travis had all the power right now. And me? I had nothing.

  I grabbed the lingering strands of Sophie’s hair and clasped them tightly in the palm of my hands.

  “Let’s go.”

  Eighteen.

  Sophie

  The door to my cell—I refused to think of it as a guestroom—opened and Travis smiled brightly at me. I forced my own smile, trying to act like the meek docile creature that I was not.

  “I brought you ice cream. It’s vanilla.” He sat down beside me, the bed dipping precariously to the right, but since I was still chained to the bed I didn’t fall. Travis had removed the chains a few times to treat my bruised and chafed wrists—since I wasn’t healing like a shifter normally would—but it kind of defeated the purpose because he always chained me right back up. There was a bathroom attached to the bedroom and he let me shower every other day. I relished those moments when I could get out of the bed and walk. My legs had grown weak and it was a struggle, but I enjoyed the burn.

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been here…wherever here was…but if my calculations were correct, and based on the size of my ever increasing stomach, I’d say I’d been here a month. A whole freakin’ m
onth. With Travis.

  He hadn’t hit me much lately. Sometimes I said something smart, because I couldn’t help myself, and he’d slap me. But I’d take it. This wasn’t like the last time. I wasn’t being tortured. In fact, it was like I was being cared for. Sometimes, I saw him greedily staring at my stomach and it scared me. Did Travis want Beau? And if so, what for? What scared me about that scenario was if I was here long enough to deliver Beau, would I then become disposable to Travis?

  “Open up,” Travis demanded, the spoon hovering in front of my lips. I half expected him to make choo choo noises, but that would just be silly…although, probably not any sillier than the fact that Travis was feeding me ice cream. Had I stepped into an alternate reality or something? I was starting to miss Crazy Travis—at least I understood that one. This one was a stranger.

  I opened my mouth before he became angry and smacked me or flicked ice cream in my hair.

  “Good?” He asked when I’d swallowed.

  “Mhmm,” I nodded.

  He gave me another bite.

  Once all the ice cream was gone, I asked, “Where-where am I?”

  “Oh, come on Sophie, you know I can’t tell you that,” he patted my cheek like I was a small child—although, it was a little more than a pat since my cheek was left with a sting. “Good girls know better than to ask questions.”

  “Sorry,” I bowed my head, my lashes fanning my cheeks as I tried to appear innocent. I needed to gain his sympathy, which was the dumbest thing ever since he had kidnapped me. Ugh.

  “It’s okay,” he gently brushed my hair back from my forehead and took my chin between his warm fingers so I was forced to look at him. “I understand why you’re curious. I would be too. But those questions will get you into trouble and you don’t want that, do you?”

  “No,” I shook my head, trying to hide my revulsion at being touched by him.

  “I’m glad you understand.” He leaned closer to me and my body stiffened. I expected him to try to kiss me, but he didn’t. He stopped, inhaling the air swirling around us. “You smell so good. So sweet.” Yeah, and that’s not creepy at all.

  “Uh…thanks?” What the heck was supposed to say? I didn’t want to piss him off and I’m pretty sure saying nothing would have made him mad.

  “I’m sure you’re thirsty. I’ll be back with some water.” He grabbed the bowl off the side table and left the room.

  My stress didn’t ease, knowing he’d be back soon.

  He had brought me a TV in here, but he only turned it on when he felt like it and always put it on some random channel that ended up making me fall asleep out of boredom. Well, played Travis. Well, freakin,’ played.

  Until you were alone, with just your thoughts, you didn’t realize what true boredom was. This was hell…or at least my version of it. And it wasn’t like Travis really talked to me much when he visited, and I didn’t say much to him either since I was scared of making him mad. There was a lot I was dying to ask him, but I knew if I did, he’d probably slit my throat. I was the most curious about the mutants. Where were they? Were they here, in this house, existing alongside me? Or did he keep them somewhere else? If they weren’t here, then who was here? Because from the noises I heard, it was blatantly obvious that Travis wasn’t the only person who existed outside this room. I wondered if I’d live long enough to get those questions answered. It was a morbid thought to have. But I’d been here so long, and with Travis’ temper, I figured it was only a matter of time before he went nutso on me. He’d been relatively tame with me—even the slaps lately had hardly been worth complaining about. I wondered what that meant, and figured it couldn’t possibly be anything good.

  I glanced down at my prominent bump, biting my lip as I fought tears. Would I ever get to see my baby? Hold him? Kiss him? My throat constricted painfully. I was only staying sane by not thinking about those kinds of things. But the longer I was here, the harder it was to ignore such morbid thoughts.

  The door opened again, and just like every other time, my heart skipped a beat in my chest. Each time the door opened, I expected it to be the last time.

  Travis appeared with a glass full of ice water. I licked my lips as I watched a trickle of condensation snake its way down the clear glass and soak into the skin of Travis’ hand. I was so thirsty. In fact, I was so dehydrated that if I wasn’t chained to this bed and was capable of more strength than what it took to swat a fly, I would so tackle Travis to the ground and kill him for the water. Another thing I had learned, going without water was more painful than any of the physical stuff. My throat burned with my need for the simple substance.

  “Here.” Travis placed a pink bendy straw between my lips. Who would’ve thought that a sociopath would own brightly colored bendy straws? This guy was so difficult to figure out.

  Once all the water was gone, I mewled in protest.

  “More,” I croaked hoarsely. I wanted to snatch the glass from his hands and crunch on the ice. “I need more,” I begged. A single tear escaped my eye and his thumb flicked out to wipe it away. So quick I couldn’t be sure I saw right, his thumb was in his mouth. Did he seriously just lick my tear off his finger? Um, gross.

  “Sorry, no can do, the boss man wouldn’t like that,” he quipped.

  Boss man?

  “Boss man?” I voiced.

  Travis paled, his dark eyes threatening to pop out of his skull. “Don’t ask questions!” He yelled, spit flying everywhere. My cheek stung and then began to throb and I realized he’d slapped me. “Don’t. Ask. Questions.” He repeated, each word punctuated by a heavy breath. His face was quickly going from white, to pink, to a dangerous red color.

  Finally, after staring at me for a minute, he turned sharply and left the room. The door slammed closed behind him.

  I guessed all my good behavior had been for nothing.

  I began to cry, pulling at the chains. I didn’t care that it hurt my wrists. I needed to feel the pain to remind me that I was indeed still alive. A scream tore out of my throat. I think I was close to losing what was left of my sanity.

  “Let me out!” I shouted, rattling the chains. “Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!”

  I began to cry, unable to help myself. “Please,” I begged no one, “let me out. I want to go home,” my voice cracked.

  I wanted Caeden. I wanted home. I wanted security.

  Tears coursed down my cheeks, soaking the thin shirt I wore—a shirt that wasn’t even my own. For some reason I wondered whose it was. It certainly wasn’t Travis’, it was too small for that. Did that mean there was a female here? One who might possess some empathy and help me out of here? Oh, who was I kidding? If there was a female here—wherever here was—she was just as crazy as Travis and in no way would help me.

  My tears dried up and I began to hiccup. “Caeden, where are you?”

  * * *

  Caeden

  I needed to kill something.

  No, not something, someone.

  Someone with blond hair and black eyes.

  My fist flew into the bag again and Bentley grunted from the impact. “Dude, I think that hit my kidney,” he said breathlessly.

  “I. Don’t. Care.” I punched the bag over and over again, hoping I could punch the anger out of me. No such luck though. I’d been at it for a good two hours and I was still pissed and exhaustion had yet to set in.

  Bentley grunted again and released the bag. It flew back at me and before I could move, it slammed into my chest, knocking me to the ground.

  “What the hell?” I gasped; rubbing the sore spot on my chest that I could tell was already bruising.

  “You need a reality check,” Bentley stood above me, his arms crossed over his chest as he sent me an icy glare. “Punching the shit out of that thing,” he pointed at the slightly swaying bag, “isn’t going to make you feel better.”

  I clenched my teeth, my nostrils flaring with anger. He was right. “What do you expect me to do? I can’t find her! I can’t feel her! Even
her familiar can’t find her! She’s gone,” I croaked like a big old baby, “and there’s nothing more I can do.”

  “There’s always something you can do,” Bentley whispered.

  “Like what?” I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. “I’ve been everywhere I know to go and there’s no sign of her or Travis. They’re just gone. Poof! Non-existent!”

  “Maybe you should talk to the elders,” he started, and when I opened my mouth to cut him off, he gave me a look that said I’d regret it later. I knew when Bentley got like this that I shouldn’t push him. “There might be something helpful in one of the legends. Maybe something that would help you locate her.”

  I shook my head, letting out a sigh. “I’ve read those things so many times, looking for information on the mutants that I practically have them memorized. There’s nothing in there about locating person.”

  Bentley nodded. “Okay, then. At least stop moping. I know it sucks that you haven’t found her yet—heck, Chris has been sick since she went missing because she’s been so worried—but you have to stay optimistic.”

  “I’m an optimistic person by nature,” I shook my head, slowly rising to my feet, “but even the most positive person loses hope after a while. And once you’ve lost hope—”

  “You’ve lost everything,” Bentley finished.

  “Exactly,” I nodded, cracking my knuckles.

  Bentley appeared thoughtful for a moment. “Why don’t you stay with Chris and I for a while? It’s not good for you to be holed up in that house, making furniture all day. We have an extra bedroom. We wouldn’t bother you.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Don’t make an excuse. I’m not saying you need to move in, but a few days might do you some good.”

  He was right. I really did need to get out of the house. The only time I left was to come here, to the gym, and to look for Sophie, which always left me feeling exhausted and defeated since everything led to a dead end. I didn’t understand how they were just…gone. For all I knew, they were states away, or even a whole other country. Looking for Sophie had become hopeless. Until she had the baby, or…or Travis killed her, I wouldn’t know anything. I was stuck in limbo, waiting for something. I didn’t like this one bit, but there was nothing more I could do and I had to face reality. This time, Sophie probably wasn’t coming home and neither would our son.