by Lynn Hagen
With tension coursing through his body, Stanton made it to the door without either man noticing that he was moving. He grabbed the handle and yanked, ready to make a run for it, but the door wouldn’t open.
That was when he noticed the keypad to his left and the steady red light.
“You need a code to get in and out of the lab.”
Stanton turned. It was Dr. Rice speaking to him. “You have no right to keep me here. I haven’t done anything wrong, and who are you guys anyway?”
Stanton played dumb. He didn’t want them to know he had knowledge of who they were and what they’d done. If he played it off, maybe they would let him go.
“We ran your prints while you were still unconscious,” Dr. Rice said. “You are Stanton Allan, only child of Dr. Marcus and Lydia Allan. The question is, why are you with Hayward O’Brien, and who are the other two men with him?”
“I was just hitchhiking.” Stanton had come up with the lie so fast that he impressed himself. “I’m trying to get to Tulsa, and they offered to take me as far as they could. My aunt is sick, and she needs me.” Stanton widened his eyes and feigned a gasp. “Was I riding with criminals? Is that what this is all about? I didn’t know, I swear!”
“Let him go,” Dr. Bailey insisted.
“If he is of no importance, we’ll take him to Tulsa ourselves. If O’Brien shows up to get him, then we know he’s lying,” Dr. Rice said. “I’d give it an hour. Surely you can spare an hour of your time, Mr. Allan.”
Crap. So much for playing the innocent card. Stanton went back to his seat. “Just as long as I make it to my aunt’s house.” He didn’t elaborate, because Stanton knew that, when telling a lie, keep it as simple as possible. The more details, the more there was to remember.
He would just have to wait for Nomad to rescue him, and hopefully he wouldn’t be hurt in the process. Dr. Rice had a cold, calculated look to him, as if he were dying to run his tests to see if Stanton was human.
The guy probably gloried in the torture.
Dr. Bailey looked apologetically toward Stanton but obviously wasn’t going to keep arguing with his colleague. So much for the doctor helping a second person escape this place.
Dr. Rice went over to a table filled with glass beakers. Ha! Stanton did know the name of something in this room. He just wasn’t sure what was in them. The liquid was clear, but he highly doubted the doctor was working with water. But what did he know? Jack squat about science. Stanton had barely passed high school science, and that was with the help of a tutor.
As Dr. Bailey passed him, he whispered, “I hope he’s coming for you. I’ll keep the guards occupied.”
Stanton didn’t acknowledge him. He forced a confused look and shook his head. “I don’t know them. I was being honest when I said I was just catching a ride.”
He patted Stanton’s shoulder, although Stanton wanted to knock the guy’s hand off him. Dr. Bailey could’ve gotten him out of there, but the guy had chosen not to help. “Then you have nothing to worry about.”
Even if Stanton had been telling the truth about not knowing Nomad, he doubted Dr. Bailey was. Stanton had seen the lab, seen their faces. He had plenty to worry about.
Chapter Ten
The back door clicked as it opened. Sawyer stuffed his handheld device back into his pocket as Nomad pulled the door the rest of the way open. The first thing that hit him was the smell. It wasn’t a bad odor, more like disinfectant and some kind of air freshener.
But it was a familiar scent that sent him reeling. Nomad pressed a hand to his gut and focused on his breathing, trying to bring himself back to the present instead of his mind trying to suck him into the past.
“You don’t have to be here,” Dylan whispered. “We can handle this mission while you wait in the Jeep. We’ll get Stanton and deal with the other stuff.”
Nomad rested a hand against the wall and shook his head. “No, he’s my mate, and I’m rescuing him. I promised that I wouldn’t let anything happen to him, and now I have to…” Nomad wiped a hand over his face and sucked in an even deeper breath. “I have to get to him and apologize for breaking my promise.”
“Tell me where Dr. Rice’s office is,” Sawyer said. “I’ll get to the data. Dylan, you take down any guards that get in the way and kill Dr. Rice if you see him. O’Brien, get your mate.”
Nomad rolled his shoulders and forced the memories away. He could do this. He had to. Stanton was counting on him, and Nomad wasn’t going to let his mate down. He also planned on razing this place before anyone else showed up for work. This abomination had to be destroyed.
He pointed to the hallway where Sawyer had to go. “It’s the third door on the left.”
Sawyer nodded and took off, his steps so quick that they couldn’t be heard.
Nomad turned and headed toward the lab, Dylan at his side. “We’ll need a code to get in.”
“That’s why guns were invented.” Dylan pulled his handgun from the back of his waistband, carrying it loosely at his side as they approached the lab door.
Nomad’s chest tightened and his head began to pound at the familiar surroundings. He recalled how he’d been wheeled to the lab on a gurney, his arms and legs strapped down. He remembered the fear, the adrenaline pumping through him, the quiet begging he did inside his head that someone, anyone would find this place and put a stop to all of it.
But no one had put a stop to it. Nomad planned to change that. No more panthers would come through the doors because there weren’t going to be any doors left when he was done.
“Don’t shut down on me,” Dylan said when Nomad stumbled. “Focus, force those memories down. We’re too close to our objective. Stay with me, Hayward.”
Nomad spun and slammed his hand into the guard’s chest, knocking the wind from him. He followed that up with a jarring uppercut that knocked the guy out.
“Shit.” Dylan stared wide-eyed at the guy. “I’m losing my touch. I didn’t even hear him coming.”
Nomad grabbed the guard under his arms and dragged him to the utility closet. He shoved the guy inside and took his gun and walkie-talkie. He also took the guy’s security badge. Now they wouldn’t have to shoot the keypad. They would simply have to swipe the card.
“Hopefully he’ll stay unconscious long enough for us to finish this and get ghost.”
“I think you hit him hard enough to make him sleep for a week.” Dylan shut the door. “Let’s get moving.”
There was no getting around the security cameras mounted in the corners. Hopefully when Sawyer wiped the data, he also erased any proof that they’d been there in the first place. Nomad didn’t plan on leaving this building standing, but he also believed in dotting I’s and crossing T’s.
They pressed themselves against the wall when they reached the lab. There were large windows on either side of the door, but there was a wall under the windows, which meant they could crouch and make their way to the door without being seen.
Nomad peeked into the window, and his heart thundered. Stanton was seated at a desk, looking around, but seemed unharmed. Dr. Rice was across the room, focused on his work.
Nomad gave the signal for them to lower themselves and creep to the door. When they did, Dylan slid past the door and got on the other side.
Dylan held up three fingers and then lowered them one at a time. The countdown. When the last fingered lowered, Nomad reached up and slid the keycard through the reader. The red light turned green.
Dylan jumped to his feet and swung the door open, his gun raised as Nomad froze. Just that fast Dr. Rice had grabbed Stanton and held a gun to his temple where they stood by the desk.
“I knew he was lying,” Dr. Rice said. “Hitchhiker my ass.”
“Let him go,” Nomad said with a low growl. On the inside, Nomad was shaking like crazy. One false move and Stanton would be dead. For the first time in his life, Nomad had someone who mattered the most to him. He had his brothers, but there was a difference between family love and som
eone who’d stolen your heart.
And Stanton owned Nomad, heart, mind, and soul. He couldn’t imagine his life without Stanton in it. He also wanted to meet his child, wanted to know if he was having a son or daughter, and prayed their baby looked just like Stanton because his mate was the most beautiful person in the world.
“Trade your life for his, and I’ll let him go,” Dr. Rice said. “I know it was Dr. Bailey who helped you escape. It took me awhile to put the pieces together. He’ll be dealt with just as soon as I have you back on my table.”
“Don’t do it,” Stanton said. “Don’t you dare trade your life for mine.”
“He’ll do it,” Dr. Rice said with a smarmy smirk. “Look how in love he is with you. You can see it in his eyes. He’ll do whatever he has to in order to ensure your safety.”
“You’re a rotten soul,” Stanton said. “I hope he kicks your ass.”
Stanton no longer appeared terrified. He looked downright pissed. Nomad just hoped his mate didn’t do anything rash. There was still a gun pressed against his head. Things could turn deadly in a matter of seconds, and Nomad didn’t want to lose Stanton, his beautiful, courageous little human.
“You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met,” Nomad said.
Stanton blinked several times as a blush stole over his cheeks. “I don’t think this is the right time for that.”
“It’s always the right time.” Nomad pressed his fist against his heart. “I promised that I would protect you, and I failed. But there’s still time.”
Stanton looked puzzled. “What’re talking about?”
“I’ll trade.” Nomad set his gun down and raised his hands. “Just let him go.”
“Are you nuts?” Stanton shouted. “Don’t you dare hand yourself over to this crazy bastard!”
He had no intention of surrendering. Nomad just wanted Stanton out of Dr. Rice’s clutches. Once his mate was free and clear, Nomad planned on shifting and tearing the bastard apart.
Dr. Rice’s attention swung to Dylan. “Slide your gun to me.”
Dylan snorted. “You’re gonna have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.”
Dr. Rice pointed his gun at Dylan. “Slide the goddamn gun to me!”
Nomad was stunned when his mate elbowed Dr. Rice hard enough to release him and raced across the room. The doctor wheezed as he aimed his gun.
A shot was fired.
Dr. Rice crumpled to the ground. Nomad just wished it had been him who’d killed the guy. But it had been Dylan.
Nomad grabbed Stanton and hugged him so tight that he doubted his mate could breathe. “I’m sorry I broke my promise.”
“You didn’t.” Stanton kissed Nomad, tongue included.
“Break it up,” Dylan said. “We need to get going.”
“I got out of the Jeep,” Stanton said when he came up for air. “It was my fault I was taken. I didn’t do as you asked and got myself kidnapped.”
“He took you by the Jeep,” Nomad said. “You would’ve been kidnapped regardless.”
“Argue semantics later,” Dylan said.
Nomad released Stanton and crossed the room. He poured out every liquid he could find, covering as much surface as possible. Then he grabbed a flint lighter and ignited the liquid. Nomad hadn’t been sure it would work since he hadn’t the first clue what he’d been pouring out, but it ignited, the fire racing across the table.
He grabbed Stanton’s hand as they used the guard’s keycard to get out of the lab. Nomad hoped the blazing trail was enough to set the entire building on fire.
But he wasn’t without a conscious. Nomad stopped at the utility closet and grabbed the guard, who was still out cold, and dragged him toward the back entrance.
Yeah, he planned on killing the guards, but damn it, he just couldn’t bring himself to actually do it.
Sawyer met up with them. “I made a copy on a hard drive before I erased everything. I want to have a look at what they were actually doing here.” He looked down at the guard still gripped in Nomad’s hands. “Guilty conscience?”
“Something like that.” Nomad used his hip to shove the door open. When he was far enough away from the building, he dropped the guard and headed for his Jeep.
They tore out of there, leaving before anyone had shown up for work. He had no idea where in the building Dr. Bailey was, and Nomad didn’t have time to check. He was sure the doctor would get out in time. If not, then truthfully, he shouldn’t have still been working for monsters.
The guy had helped Nomad escape, but Dr. Clarke Bailey wasn’t guilt free. He’d turned a blind eye to what had been going on at Tech-Chase, and there was no telling how long the experiments were going on. For all Nomad knew, Dr. Bailey could’ve worked there for over a decade or more.
No, Clarke wasn’t without guilt, and Nomad held no love in his heart for anyone who worked there. In his eyes, they were all monsters.
But he had his mate with him, alive and unharmed. That was all that mattered to him.
And he planned on never letting the love of his life out of his sight again. When Nomad looked in the side mirror, he saw the flames in the lab window. It had grown, and with no one to put the fire out, the building would be consumed.
* * * *
Stanton laughed as his son, Patrick, jumped up and down, crying for another ride on Nomad’s back. It had been three years since they’d gone to the lab, and Stanton was glad that was all behind them now.
They’d heard a news report about the fire the next morning after it had happened. Dr. Bailey had lost his life. Stanton had felt sad about that, because he’d helped Nomad escape, but as altruistic as Dr. Bailey’s intentions had been, he still worked for monsters, and that was unforgiveable.
So far, no news had reached them that any other panthers had been captured—because Sawyer and Dylan had been watching out for that—and that made Stanton happy. They had all prayed that that was the only lab in existence, and so far, they’d been right.
One good thing came out of that mess. Nomad now kept in touch with Sawyer and Dylan. They would’ve come to the barbeque being thrown at the O’Brien home, but a mission had come up and they’d had to cancel.
That was too bad. Stanton had grown to love those two like family.
“I swear,” Layne said as he looked at his mate. “Nash is an even bigger toddler than Connor.”
Stanton looked toward the small backyard playground the brothers had purchased and installed. Connor and James were on the swings, and Shyla kept climbing the steps to the slide, though Nash was keeping an eye on her, too, telling Shyla to be careful.
Keller and Quinn were at the grill, arguing over which were better, medium rare or well-done steaks. Stevie was lounging in one of the chairs, his newborn daughter nestled in his arms, and Horace was inside getting the side dishes ready.
Buttercup ran around the yard, yapping his fool head off, having the time of his life.
Stanton took it all in, smiling as Nomad lowered to his knees and let Patrick climb onto his back. He raced across the yard, their son squealing in delight.
“True,” Stanton said, “but you have to admit, every last O’Brien is a damn good father.”
Layne gasped when he looked at the swing set. “Don’t you dare push him so high!”
He took off across the yard as Nash rolled his eyes. “He’s begging me to go higher. Connor challenged me to do it.”
“And you just had to accept that challenge?” Layne argued.
Stanton chuckled and shook his head. Life wasn’t perfect, but he wouldn’t trade this family for the world. He liked the fact that the cousins were growing up together. He wanted them to be as close as possible.
Too bad his parents couldn’t have been a part of this. Even if he could tell them that their grandson was a shifter, he doubted they would’ve been a part of his life.
And that was a shame because they were missing out on so much. Stanton couldn’t have asked for a better kid. Not only did Patrick already exhi
bit Nomad’s quiet ways but he was as smart as a whip, constantly asking questions, always wanting to know how things worked.
He had Nomad’s blue eyes but Stanton’s blond hair. He was the perfect combination of them both.
When Nomad walked over to them, Stanton grabbed Patrick from Nomad’s back. “Did you have fun?”
“I wanna go again.” Patrick pouted.
“Give your old man a break for just a second and we’ll go again.” Nomad ruffled Patrick’s hair. He turned to Stanton after Patrick had run off to the swings. “I think I could use some one-on-one time with my mate.”
“Why?” Stanton asked. “Do you want to read to me?”
Nomad nuzzled his neck. “I want to do more than that.”
Unbeknown to Nomad, his mate had done more. At first Stanton hadn’t been sure, but he’d had Keller run a blood test, and yep, Stanton was pregnant again.
He hadn’t told Nomad yet. Stanton was waiting for the right moment. He just wasn’t sure when that moment should be.
“Hey, Nash,” Nomad called out. “Keep an eye on Patrick.”
“Sure,” Nash hollered back. “Go have some adult fun while the little people take over.”
“You’re the one who volunteered for playground duty,” Nomad reminded his brother.
Stanton laughed as he and Nomad raced inside. They’d barely made it up the steps and to their room before they started stripping. Stanton squealed with laughter when Nomad picked his naked ass up and tossed him onto the bed. He loved when Nomad acted as if he couldn’t get to him fast enough.
“Have I told you today that I loved you?” Nomad stretched out beside him and kissed Stanton’s chest.
God, Stanton loved feeling his mate anywhere on his body.
“I don’t think so.”
“I love you, sweetheart.” Nomad kissed him again.
Stanton flipped over and crawled backward down the bed, wiggling his brows before settling between Nomad’s legs. “How much do you love me?”
Nomad’s eyes became heavy-lidded. “How much love would it take for you to suck my cock?”