Chapter 6
Is it Kidnapping?
It might have been a mistake to separate myself from my pack. No, it definitely was a mistake. But I’m having a hard time admitting that even to myself, since I’m a stubborn bastard.
If I’d kept them around, not commanded them to maintain their distance from my girl, we would have been able to keep a better eye on her, would have fucking seen Frederick Drake sneak into the omega ward, would have kept him from getting anywhere close to Haven. If they’d been with me, I wouldn’t have been so goddamn tired. I would have noticed how strangely Florence was acting.
Until that day, every time she passed by me, she’d flay me with a glare, made it clear I wasn’t welcome. But that day, that fucking day, she kept her chin tucked into her chest, avoided looking at me, hurried by me without so much as a glance.
I should have known something was wrong. And had I been operating off of more and three hours sleep over seventy-to hours I might have. But since I was on a constant vigil watching over my girl, I was exhausted and missed the signs.
As soon as security came barreling onto the floor, I knew, I just fucking knew, that Haven was gone.
I’d barreled right through every one of the guards and found Ren sitting like a statue on the bed, tears streaming down her face and knuckles white where she dug them into her knees. She didn’t say anything for hours, whined when we tried to move her. Eventually, I barked at her.
I’m not fucking proud of it, but I needed to know. It’s only marginally a relief that she thanked me for releasing her from Bell’s command before she told us everything.
The hospital staff was quick to jump on the information, following the proper procedure for an omega in distress, but by the time the cops went to check on her at the Bell estate, she was… back under Bell’s command. There was nothing they could fucking do, and that makes me so fucking furious.
This is my fault as much as her leaving the pack house is.
I should have stuck with the pack long enough to get Haven out of the hospital and safe, but I’m a stubborn asshole who jumped first, without thinking of the consequences, and now those consequences are staring me right in my fucking face.
“Miss Bell isn’t accepting visitors at this time,” the hard voice says from the other end of the line.
God, I want to take that tiny stupid little speaker between my hands and crush it to dust. “When will she be taking visitors?” I grit out, already knowing the answer. Never. She’ll never be taking visitors when that visitor is me.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not at liberty to say.”
I nod, the steering wheel in my grip groaning under the strain. “Right.”
Without another word, I back out of the driveway and pull down the street, parking so I can monitor the gates, just in case my girl does leave the estate. She hasn’t yet, but I can’t stop myself from hoping.
Without a pack, I’m limited in what I can do. Harassing the guards of the bell estate is about the extent of my capabilities. I don’t have Jude’s ability to hack security systems or Tic’s skill with manufacturing drugs that can undoubtedly be used as a bargaining chip with Frederick Bell. I don’t even have Hale’s clout and recognition. Sure, I was a member of the Calloway pack, but I was never very front facing, never a people person, always the muscle, the strength in the pack.
So this is what I can do right now. Sit in my car and watch the house that is a prison for my girl.
I’ve never felt so goddamn ineffectual in my life.
My phone buzzes in my pocket three times in quick succession, and I can’t stop the swell of hope that its Haven reaching out. I know it’s not, doesn’t stop my heart from hoping, though.
I growl when I see the name on my screen. Jude. Fuck. I almost just delete the messages without reading them—it’s probably just more demanding that I release the commands I put on them—but when I see he sent a photograph, I can’t bring myself to.
God, with any luck, it’s a picture of Haven. If anyone was going to break into the Bell security system, it would be Jude. I tap on the first message and anger hits hard and fast. It’s not Haven. It’s a fucking invitation to the Calloway pack to celebrate the engagement of Haven Elizabeth Bell and Brian Joshua Coogan.
In two fucking days.
The second message is a link to a video, and when I click on that, my rage gets mixed with relief and confusion. It’s my girl, my baby, sitting on her bed primly, hands on her thighs, staring straight ahead. She looks unharmed, but the longer the video goes, the more and more concerned I get. I check the length of the clip and see it’s an hour. Fast forwarding through it, she doesn’t fucking move, just sits like a statue.
What the fuck?
What the actual fuck?
Jude’s third message is straight and to the point, the type of message I had been expecting from him.
Jude:
Release the commands so we can get her out.
I’m a stubborn asshole, but faced with this, the reality of my girl going catatonic again? Nah, fuck that. I’ll let my pride go and work with the assholes that hurt her until we can get her out. And then I’ll reinstate the commands to keep her away from them.
Me:
Done.
Jude:
Thank fuck. Come to the pack house so we can plan.
Ren is coming too.
I should hold on just a little longer, make them sweat, but glancing at the screen with Haven still just fucking sitting there, I let it go. Release my grip on the commands and when I do, some of my tension eases too. Not all of it. That won’t happen until Haven is tucked in my arms, curled against my chest, until I can feel her sweet little body pressed to mine, and feel her breathing. Until I know she’s healthy and safe.
I glance at the gate one more time. She’s in there, behind that wall, less than a football field away from me, but I can’t fucking get to her. Not alone.
With one more lingering look, I put my car in drive and pull away from the curb, leaving my girl behind.
An hour later, I think my time would have been better used sitting outside Haven’s house. Nothing has been decided on. No solid plan is in place.
Ren told us she hasn’t seen Haven since Frederick Bell took her to the hospital. No one has seen Haven since then. Jude has been going over the security footage from the last few days, and it’s always the same.
Haven gets up at six, dresses in workout gear, walks to the in house gym, works out for an hour exactly, returns to her room, showers and gets ready for the day. At eight-fifteen she eats breakfast, then moves to the bed and just sits there, staring straight ahead, until her lunch is delivered at one pm sharp. She eats and retreats to the bed again. The afternoon varies. Sometimes Bell and Coogan come to visit her. Sometimes a woman who looks like a seamstress comes for a fitting. Sometimes she spends the time alone. But always, always, just after her dinner, either Coogan or Bell injects her with something. It knocks her out within thirty minutes. Just enough time for her to get ready for bed.
It kills me to see her like that, working on autopilot. She’s not being physically harmed, but she sure as hell is being hurt. Just not in a way we can see.
We’re in the living room of the pack house, and Ren is huddled in the corner of the couch, knees drawn up to her chest, wrapped in a blanket, glaring at us like a disgruntled owl with her too big kaleidoscope eyes.
“You got her out before. Why can’t you just do the same thing again?”
I run a hand over my face. “Before there weren’t bars on the fucking windows, and across the door on her balcony. I tried to go in that way, believe me, I fucking tried, but it didn’t budge.”
Nearly got my ass shot off in the process, too, but they don’t need to know that.
“He increased all aspects of his security.” Tic tilts his head. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get to her while she’s on the estate.”
“So we’ll get her when she’s out,” Ren nods. “Only they never fucking let her leave!” It’s always startling hearing Florence swear. She looks like a damn cartoon princess all wide eyed and blond hair, but she swears like a sailor.
Hale taps a finger on his chin. “We know when she’ll be out of the house for sure.”
“The engagement party,” I say, catching on.
“Can’t very well have an engagement party without the bride to be.”
Florence’s brow wrinkles. “I wasn’t invited to that. It seems I’ve used up all my good will with Frederick fucking Bell.” Her chin wobbles and tears fill her eyes. “God, what if I never see her again?”
The four of us freeze at the sight of her tears. It’s an alpha’s instinct to soothe upset omegas, but none of us is sure she would want that from us. Even Jude, the golden retriever that he is, hesitates. In the end, it’s Tic that slides into the space next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to tug her against his chest. She remains stiff for a moment, then sags into his hold.
“You know we will not let that happen, Florence,” he murmurs. “We’re going to get her out and safe, and the two of you will see each other whenever you want. Right?”
It takes a moment, but eventually she nods again. “Right.” Ren swipes at her cheeks and straightens her spine, leaning back against the couch, but Tic stays near her. I eye the space between their bodies and can’t help but think he’s sitting awfully close to an omega that isn’t the one he professes to love.
None of my business, and besides that, I know how Tic feels about Haven. I used to feel it every time he looked at her. This is just him taking care of the most important person in Haven’s life.
“So the night of the engagement party,” Ren says, getting us back on track, shaking off her momentary weakness. Strong omega . But not my omega.
I nod. “Yeah, we’ll have to get her out then.”
Hale shakes his head. “There’ll be guards, a lot of them, and he’ll be expecting something like that.”
“It’s probably why he invited us.” Tic leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Keep us where he can see us.”
“And rub it the fuck in that he’s forcing our girl to marry that asshole,” Jude mutters.
“That too.”
I blow out a breath. “So we go, mingle, be seen and at some point in the night kidnap Haven and get her to safety.”
“Is it kidnapping if she goes with you willingly?” Ren asks, tilting her head.
“You’re assuming she’ll welcome us with open arms.”
Florence barks out an unamused laugh. “Not open arms, but I’m sure she’ll recognize a rescue attempt when she sees it.”
Hale licks his lips. “She might not be in the right frame of mind to see it as a rescue attempt.”
That makes my stomach tighten in anger. And grief, because he’s fucking right. We know Hale’s command to ignore her father’s bark is still intact, but Brian Coogan has free fucking rein. He could order her to do anything, even be happy about getting married. He could tell her to fight us with every ounce of strength in her petite body.
It won’t stop us from getting her, from saving her, but it’ll make it a hell of a lot harder if we have to force the issue.
“What the hell?” Jude mutters, drawing all of our attention to where his hands are hovering over his keyboard as he stares hard at the screen.
“What?” Hale snaps.
Jude’s eyes scan over whatever he’s seeing, a furrow in his brow.
“Jude.”
He shakes his head and types something, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
“Jude, you better start fucking saying something.”
He lifts his gaze from his laptop. “The compass rose group…” I stiffen at that. Has he been kicked out of the system? Did they catch on to what he’s been doing? Though the only thing we’ve been doing is watching our girl. The idea of not even having that makes my alpha roar louder than he has been.
“What about them?”
“They reached out. They offered to help us get Haven for a price.”
The five of us look at each other, but it’s Ren who leans forward. “What’s the price?”