by Alana Hart
“You tried my algorithm?’
“And mine. And a few I made up to try and get in here. Locked up tight.”
“How’d you even find this site?”
“I got into Hank Donahue’s server. Tracked his movements for the past few months and found this site in an email. Had to break into it, though, more passwords. But got in I did, and ended up here.”
Aidan stared at Emmett, admiration mixed with a little jealousy.
Emmett, uncomfortable with anything that remotely resembled emotion, turned back to the screen, shifting his wide shoulders, and brought up another page. It was a list of missing children and teens. It was a long list.
Chapter Twelve
Reagan remained in the kitchen with Siobhan, the two of them preparing dinner. She heard a few of the younger women muttering about not eating anything touched by a dirty human. It didn’t hurt. She knew how they saw her, how the alphas portrayed them to their young. Humans were evil, hurtful, murdering hunters. That was the first thing she had learned when she and Aidan started sneaking off to be together.
In their world, she was the monster of nightmares and scary campfire stories.
Meanwhile she was choosing to run off with a werewolf rather than stay with the people she called family.
Watching Aidan’s family be together, playing, laughing, loving—now that hurt.
She leaned on the counter while Siobhan stirred a delicious smelling stew, and watched Harry scamper around with the other pups. She was accepted rather quickly by the little ones, which made Reagan’s decision easier.
As much as she wanted to keep her, Reagan realized Harry was far better off here with the pack than alone with her. She couldn’t teach her about being a wolf, nor provide the pack mentality that Harry needed. So, she decided that she would leave Harry here with them. Unless she had parents who were looking for her, but otherwise from here on out, Harry belonged to the pack, and Reagan belonged to Hank.
That was another thing she realized while she chopped carrots and onions. She would never not belong to someone. First it was her parents, then her aunt, and now Hank. She had spent her life wishing for escape, and when she had finally achieved it, her past came and dragged her back.
The only person she wanted to belong to was the one who wanted nothing to do with her.
She was done fighting.
“You okay there, sweetie?” Siobhan’s hand rested on Reagan’s shoulder. For a moment, she let the woman’s kindness warm her. And then she put on a smile and nodded.
“Just watching Harry. She’s happy here.”
Siobhan returned the smile, her eyes concerned. “She’ll be all right. Wolves are pack animals, so she would be happier here than anywhere else.”
Siobhan searched Reagan’s eyes. Reagan nodded. “I know.”
Dinner was served around five. So many people crowded into the dining room where Siobhan set out bowls of stew with crusty bread. Not wanting to intrude, Reagan took ate her dinner at the kitchen counter. She received curious and confused looks from those who hadn’t seen her yet, and downright hostility from those who had.
From the darkened kitchen Reagan listened to sounds of the bar in full swing and the chatter and laughter from the dining room. Spoons clinked against bowls, the slurping of stew. And it was delicious; tender meat, thick, savory broth, potatoes, carrots, onions, and butter melted into the broth last minute. Siobhan knew how to cook.
She was wiping up the last bits of stew with her bread when she heard people in the hall. Aidan appeared, his head close to another shifter’s, talking low.
“We need him to call. Once we trace the address, we’re in.” Aidan startled when he saw Reagan at the counter alone. He glanced at the dining room door, then back at her.
The other shifter growled deep in his throat. Reagan was glad for the counter separating them. He didn’t stick around long, though. With a glare at Reagan that felt like a punch, he left.
Aidan stood awkwardly by the counter. “Uh, sorry. Emmett’s not a fan of humans.”
“None of your pack is.”
“Well, he has more reason to hate humans than any of us.”
“Oh.”
They stood in the semi-dark for an endlessly silent moment. He was too close and too far. And he smelled too good.
She took a breath, holding it a moment. “Where am I sleeping?”
“It’s early.”
“I have a long day tomorrow.” She let that hang between them.
He cleared his throat, his eyes unreadable in the dark. “I’ll show you.”
She followed him down the hall, pausing a moment to listen to a man singing in the bar, strumming his guitar. They walked through the bar’s storage room, the smell of old wood barrels and beer filling her nose. They made their way around stacks of crates and boxes.
He showed her the mattress set on a palate in the corner, his cheeks slightly pink. Crates stacked four high hid the mattress from the rest of the room. A battery operated lamp sat beside it.
She stared down at the neatly folded blankets wondering if Siobhan had provided those.
Aidan took a breath. “I, uh, I’m going to lock you in here so that the others can’t get to you.”
She turned to him, heart racing. “Get to me?” Or keep me from escaping, she thought.
“Humans don’t come here. They’re afraid of you,” he said, his eyes bright in the light of a bare bulb overhead, his curls framing his face like a halo. But he was no angel.
She sighed, her energy spent. “It’s fine. Lock me in.” Stepping out of her sneakers, Reagan lay on the mattress, pulled the blankets over her, and closed her eyes, waiting for Aidan to leave. Waiting for him to climb in with her comfort her, make her forget that tomorrow she would willingly put herself in Hank’s hands.
She heard his feet shuffle and then his footsteps as he retreated. The door closed with a click, followed by the grating of metal as the lock slid home.
Opening her eyes, she was greeted by the dark. Somewhere by the door a red light glowed. The exit sign. Sneaking her hand out, she flicked the lamp on. Shadows danced on the walls. Her breathing sounded loud in the silence. She could just hear the muted hum of the guitar and the muffled rise of laughter.
All of a sudden she was a kid again, locked in the basement, banging on the door, begging her mother to let her out.
Reagan buried her face in the mattress, willing the memories away.
Chapter Thirteen
Aidan stood outside the storage room door, leaning his forehead against the cool wood. He’d wanted nothing more than to slide beneath covers with Reagan. If he couldn’t tell her she meant something, he wanted to show her. Show her that she wasn’t expendable. But that would be a lie, because she was, and she knew it.
Pushing away from the door, Aidan blocked out the sound of her heart beating too fast, the smell of her lingering in the hallway, the feeling of her fear and sadness pulling at him, begging him to come back.
He’d spent too much time with her, not just these past days, but when they were young. As teenagers, they spent nearly every minute with each other, from the time she came home from school, until she had to leave again the next morning. Often she skipped school to be with him. He was punished more times than he could remember for missing lessons with his brothers and cousins. He knew her, loved her, felt her, and those feelings had been awakened when he saw her again, and amplified when he’d fucked her last night.
He knew that was a mistake, but it was one he couldn’t help but make. She was the comfort he needed when everything around him was falling apart. Then and now.
It was important he remember that she wasn’t his anymore. He was returning her to her husband, and then going back to his pack, and their hopes that one day he would become an alpha.
He ate dinner with his family. Most had finished by the time he joined them, but they stayed, talking and laughing. He sat by Emmett, the only person who would feel more out of place than Aida
n did at that moment.
He had only been away three months. Why did he feel like such an outcast in his own home? No one treated him any differently, not like they did Emmett. Many of the younger ones were unaware of what the MC did for money outside the bar. Everyone went about their dinner like it was any other night.
The problem wasn’t his family, Aidan realized. It was him. Maybe Cormac had forced him to be a lone wolf for too long, and now he didn’t feel like he fit in with the pack.
A hand draped over his shoulder. Siobhan hugged both Aidan and Emmett to her, kissing them.
“I’m off to bed, boys.” She pressed her mouth to Aidan’s ear. “She all right?”
Aidan nodded.
“Don’t unlock that door for anyone, you hear?”
Aidan turned. She fixed him with her eyes, the warning clear. He nodded again. She kissed his forehead and left. Aidan remained at the table for as long as he could. Some of his younger cousins were left cleanup duty, grumbling the whole time. When it was just Liam, Emmett, Carly, and two of his female cousins, Aidan got restless. He wanted to go for a run, but he didn’t want to leave the key anywhere someone might find it. Especially not Emmett or Carly.
He didn’t think Emmett would go out of his way to hurt Reagan, but he wasn’t going to take that chance. And he had no doubt that Carly would go out of her way to hurt Reagan.
She leaned on the table, her breasts perky under her plain tank top. Sand colored hair was gathered into a massive bun on her head, blue eyes like Siobhan’s danced with mischief.
“Tell me, cousin,” Carly said. “Why is it the McKinnon brothers are so lured by human pussy?”
Liam’s head snapped up. “Fuck that nastiness. Leave that to Connor. We got nothing to do with human bitch cunt.” Liam gestured between himself and Aidan.
Carly cocked an eyebrow, eyes on Aidan. “Oh Liam, you might be alone on this.”
“Fuck that,” he said again, but this time without as much energy. He bent his head back to his third bowl of stew.
Carly licked her lips. It was well known in the pack that the McKinnon brothers were highly sought after mates. They were strong, from the two powerful families in the pack, and their ties were unbreakable since they were basically raised by the pack. They were also the most obvious choices for new alphas once the old men retired. Connor had broken that tie and left the pack for a human, which put him off the list in both respects.
Since it was common to mate with cousins, and Carly was technically his second cousin, she never made it a secret she wanted one of the brothers.
“Shifters not good enough for you boys?”
“I like shifters just fine,” Aidan said. “It’s you I don’t like.”
To that she only grinned. “Liar.”
It was true he used to imagine that she was the one he ended up mated with, but that was years ago, when she was harboring a crush on Connor. When it was finally his turn to be crushed on by the alluring Carly, he had his thing going with Reagan.
Now she rose and came around the table. She stood beside him, a black skirt hiked too high. Eyes locked on his, she lifted her leg and straddled his lap.
Liam picked up his bowl. “And that’s my cue,” he said and left.
Carly ground her hips against him. To his surprise, there wasn’t much response in him. He nodded to the others.
“We aren’t alone.”
She smiled; a cat with a bird in its paws. “The girls can watch. Might learn something.”
“And Emmett?”
She glared at her adopted brother. “Go away, scum.”
One person Emmett rarely stood up to was Carly. He returned her glare, but left the dining room. Carly took the hem of her skirt and hiked it higher. He could see the pink of her underwear, her thumbs hooking under them, about to pull down.
He grabbed her by the waist and lifted. She squealed, but he dropped her on the table, leaned close, smirking at the catch in her breath, and then stepped out of the space between her legs. He was rewarded with the dumbstruck look before she swore at him.
In the darkness of the living room, Aidan took a breath. He wasn’t attracted to Carly. He didn’t want her or any other shifter. The only person he wanted, he couldn’t have. He shook his head, his smile rueful. Who knew that after ten years he would still want the woman who broke his heart? Maybe he was a masochist.
He needed a run. Stripping out of his shirt and jeans, Aidan hid his clothes, the key included, in the downstairs bathroom. He hoped that the normal bathroom smells would hide his scent. Shifting into a wolf, he slipped out the door. The snowy cold greeted him, sifting his fur as he took off at a run.
Chapter Fourteen
The darkness closed around her, suffocating her. Reagan switched the lamp on again. It flickered and faded, the batteries dead. She shivered, her teeth chattering. It was almost as cold as the cabin had been, and she didn’t know the layout enough to get up and try to find the light switch.
She could start screaming, but what were the odds anyone would come to her rescue? If anything, all it would do was bring someone who meant to hurt her.
No, she would stay here and be cold. Maybe she would die of hypothermia before morning. The thought both gave her hope and depressed her.
There weren’t enough blankets to keep her warm. But… she sat up, looking around in the dark. She was in the storage room of a bar. She was surrounded by alcohol. Hope sparked in her as she stood, wrapping the blankets around her shoulders, and moved, navigating her way in the dark by feeling the crates. She stopped when she heard the clinking of large glass bottles in one crate.
Unable to see what she pulled from the straw, she opened the bottle and took a tentative sip.
Bourbon.
She closed her eyes and took a long pull from the bottle. It slid down her throat, liquid heat, spreading from her chest to her limbs. Bourbon had been her father’s drink of choice, and for good reason.
It had been years since she had a drink and it hit her fast. She’d barely taken a few mouthfuls before stumbling back to the mattress, miraculously finding it in the dark. Screwing the cap back on, she curled up on the mattress, hugging the bottle close, and stared into the dark.
Warm now, and full of the relaxing spirit, Reagan’s mind wandered, unable to sleep. She wondered if she could fight Hank. Why should she lie down and let him beat her? She’d fought off her dad plenty when she was young. But, she remembered, it wasn’t her dad who frightened her. He was a drunk slob with too much interest in his daughters. It was her mother who terrified her.
And Hank was not an alcoholic—one of the reasons she had married him. He was bigger than her father, meaner than her mother. The only thing she could do was hope that he killed her quickly, getting it over with rather than dragging it out.
Running off to tell the police wouldn’t help. She had tried that before. Once as a girl in an attempt to stop her mother, and then a few years after she married Hank. Both times her abuser got out of trouble and both times Reagan was punished horribly.
Besides, if she went to the police no one would believe her about the shifter pups, and the pack would come after her for revealing them, and more pups would get hurt because she didn’t help them find out where they were located.
Reagan took another long drink.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep. Sleep came, in fits and starts, but it came. And with it came the dreams.
Monstrous hands reaching through the mattress, ripping her stomach open. Wolves snarling and snapping at her. Her mother’s cold, dark eyes opening into empty pits. Reagan falling into them, her fingers slipping on the nothingness, her hands, scratched and bleeding, grabbing hold of something. A hand.
Above her, Aidan stared down into the pit, his eyes glacial. She called to him, but he didn’t see her. And then, he let go.
She fought, struggling to wake up, fighting the sensation of falling.
Aidan held her down, pushing the hair from he
r face, whispering to her. The blurry edges of the dream faded. She was on the mattress, Aidan kneeling beside her, a hand on her face, his eyes darting toward the door. Somewhere overhead, moonlight broke through a small window, lighting the room enough that she could see him. It was quiet now, the bar probably long closed, dinner over.
His skin was cold and he smelled like snow and pine trees. His jeans hung off his hips and he was shirtless. She didn’t want him shirtless over her.
She tried to sit up. “I have to get out of here,” she said, her voice shaking, panicked.
He held her down, his weight too much to shove away. “Stop it, Ray. You’re drunk.” He shook the half empty bottle and set it aside.
She glared at him. “It takes more than that to get me drunk. And don’t call me Ray.”
His eyes narrowed to slits.
“Why are you here?” she spat.
“I heard you crying,” he whispered.
She noticed the cool moisture on her cheeks then. Swiping at them angrily, she took a shaky breath. “I’m fine now.”
“You’re not fine.”
She tried again to shove him off, but he caught her wrists in his hand, holding them against her chest.
“What do you care?” she growled. “You don’t think I’ll cry tomorrow when you hand me back to Hank?”
“You’re tougher than that,” he said as if trying to convince her.
“No, I’m not. I spent four years trying to get up the courage to leave him. And then I did. And now I’m being forced back.” She looked away from him. Suddenly an idea hit her so hard it hurt. She grabbed his hands in hers. “Turn me.”
His eyes hardened. “What?”
“Turn me and I can fight him. You’ll get the location you need, and I’ll be able to get away from him.” When Aidan hesitated, Reagan gripped his hands harder. “He’ll kill me, Aidan. Or close to it.”
He stared down at her, his eyes masked. “I can’t, Ray. The alphas…”
She stared at him, seeing the scared boy beneath the hardened man. She let him go, drawing up her walls. Her last vestiges of hope disappearing like smoke. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice flat.