Chapter 25
Harper
Ilost count after the first ten wolves.
Not that I could see them all. The cell was a square shipping crate bolted to the warehouse floor, with chain-link fencing welded over the front and sides, and a caged bulb that cast a sickly yellow cone over everything.
I could smell them. When stressed, wolves reeked of canine and testosterone, and here it came in waves, cut with the chemical rot of old blood and diesel.
My face burned where Brie’s claws had raked me, but the real pain was inside: every time I blinked, I saw the look she’d given me on the bridge, the raw mix of terror and betrayal, as if I was the monster.
When I came to, I was in this cage, but not alone.
There were other women in here besides Brie and me.
One blonde so pale she looked bleached, the other darker, battered around the eyes.
They hadn’t said a word since we had been tossed in here and sat huddled together on a mat, knees drawn tight, arms locked in a death grip.
Brie was at the farthest corner, facing the wall, her boots leaving a trail of black smudges on the filthy floor.
I pressed a sleeve against the blood still seeping from my cheek. “Well, this is a damn mess,” I said, but no one replied.
The warehouse was the kind built for trucks, not people: exposed girders, a ceiling high enough to swallow sound, and somewhere up there, was a square of window with the dawn leaking through.
They’d turned off the heat, but the place ran warm from wolf body mass and the stink of nerves.
I could see through the cell’s welded chain-link “bars” to the perimeter: too many wolves to count, all in black jeans and hoodies, shuffling in formation like they’d practiced for a parade.
Most ignored us, but one or two made a point of pacing past the crate every few minutes, eyes sliding over the bars.
The way they watched, I could tell they were more afraid of their boss than anything we could do.
I took stock of the exits, just as Jess had taught me.
Double doors at the front, a single steel panel at the back, maybe a rolling garage door at the far end.
The walls were thin, with no insulation, and I could hear the low thrum of traffic on the street outside.
I could also hear the wolves muttering to each other, some in what sounded like Polish or Russian; I couldn’t tell which.
I ran a hand over my arms to stop the shivering. My jacket was gone; I wore only the thin cotton top from before, spattered now with dried blood. I checked for my phone or anything useful, but the wolves had stripped us clean. I had to count on Jess’s relentless skills to find me.
Brie hadn’t moved, not even to wipe the blood from under her nails.
Her hair was shorter than I remembered; the inverted bob gave her an edgy look.
She hugged her knees, head pressed into the crook of her elbow.
Every so often, she’d flinch when the wolves barked a command, but mostly she just breathed, slow and shaky.
I slid to her side of the cell. “You want to talk about it?”
She shook her head without turning.
“Because we’re probably not going anywhere soon, and I hate the awkward silence.”
She said nothing.
The two women on the mat didn’t react, but the dark-haired one finally lifted her head. Her nose looked broken, and she had the bruised, faraway gaze of someone who’d seen the inside of a lot of these cages. Her stare was clinical, almost bored. The blonde just stared at her own knees, rocking.
Brie’s voice was a splinter. “You shouldn’t have come.”
I felt my jaw clench. “It was either come or let you wind up in a crate on a cargo ship to Taiwan. I couldn’t let that happen.”
She let out a hollow laugh. “You don’t get it. You never did. You think you’re so much better than us—”
“Us? You’re all in with these people now?”
She spun on me, her eyes swollen with tears and rage. “Luc loves me. He—he said he’d take me away from all of this. From Mom, from everything.”
I glanced at the other girls, then back at Brie. “Yeah, Luc really seems like the prince type. Is that why he sells women out of shipping containers? Real stand-up guy, Brie. Maybe Dad would have liked him.”
She lunged at me, hands clawed, but I caught her wrists. She was smaller than me, but she fought like a cornered animal. “You don’t know anything! You never did! You just left us, and then you act like you’re the only one who ever got hurt—”
“I left because I had no choice!” My own voice echoed too loud, and one of the guards banged the cell with a length of pipe. “Quiet!” he barked, the accent pure Jersey.
I lowered my voice. “You think I wanted to end up in a club, dancing for freaks like Steiner? You think I wouldn’t have killed to trade places with you and finish school, be with my mate?”
Brie’s face crumpled. “Luc said you liked it. He said you made all this up to keep me from being happy.”
I looked at the other women, saw the way the pale one shrank into herself at the sound of his name. “Brie, he’s a trafficker. They all are. That’s the only thing they do. I don’t even know if the real Luc exists.”
She just shook her head, the tears running unchecked now. “I loved him,” she said. “I thought he’d save me.”
I pulled her to the ground before she could lash out again, wrapped both arms around her, and forced her to meet my eyes. “We’re getting out of here,” I said, willing her to believe it. “Arsenal will not leave me here. He’ll burn the world down before he lets Steiner take me again.”
She sniffed, hiccuped, and let her body go limp in my arms. “You promise?”
I brushed her hair off her face. “On my life.”
Behind us, the dark-haired woman made a sound—half laugh, half sob. “They always say that,” she said, not unkindly. “But you can’t trust men. All they have are words.”
I met her gaze. “You’ve never met our men.”
Her eyes flicked to my bloodied cheek. “I hope for your sake, you’re right.”
I sat down with Brie pressed tight to my side. Her hands still trembled, but she held onto my sleeve like it was a rope in floodwater. I kept my own fear under wraps. There’d be time to break later.
The wolves continued to march around the warehouse. I recognized two from the club in Houston, one with a scar down the side of his face, the other with knuckles tattooed in Cyrillic. They never looked me in the eye, just kept pacing or squatting to smoke.
You could pack a room with a hundred wolves, set them barking and jostling and gnashing their teeth, but the second an apex predator stepped inside, it all stopped. Maybe it was pheromones, maybe just learned terror—didn’t matter. When the warehouse went quiet, I knew Steiner had come to collect.
Every wolf straightened, eyes fixed dead ahead. Even the guards who’d spent the morning smoking and jawing at us now braced as if about to salute. Brie shuddered against my side; the other two women cowered together on the mat.
Waylon Steiner entered like a king late to his own coronation.
He sauntered into the light, hands in his pockets, a smirk pre-installed on his face.
The suit was the same as before, navy this time, the shirt blood-red, and I’d bet a month’s wages the shoes cost more than my first car.
His hair hung loose now, and in the cold light of the warehouse he looked more animal than man.
He stood just outside the bars, his eyes raking over us one by one, pausing on Brie with an extra twist of the knife. “Miss me?” he said, smiling wide.
No one answered. I made a show of dabbing the blood from my mouth, careful not to give him the satisfaction of a flinch.
Steiner jerked his chin at the guards. “Open it.”
A wolf with a buzz-cut twisted the padlock, then yanked the gate wide. Steiner stepped in, the guards flanking him with the precision of a firing squad.
He loomed over me, arms folded. “Let’s try this again. Where’s your boyfriend, Harper? Arsenal, is it? Or maybe he’s not as brave as you thought.”
I didn’t bother answering. He wanted fear, or at least a little awe. I gave him indifference.
His gaze flicked to Brie. “And you, precious? Still think Luc’s coming for you?”
Brie cringed. “He promised—”
Steiner cackled. “Luc is Renault’s man. He used you as bait, girl, and an easy piece of pussy.
He’s resting easy back at his pack’s compound; likely with a woman prettier than you on his lap.
He did what he’s paid to do. And you were as stupid as we counted on you being.
” He turned to me, shrugged. “Kids these days. So easy to fool.”
He bent down, took my chin between two fingers, and smeared the blood from Brie’s claw marks across my lips. His touch was obscene, a parody of tenderness. “Did you miss your Master?” he whispered, close enough for me to smell last night’s bourbon on his breath.
I met his eyes, steady. “You were never my master.”
He didn’t like that. The smile slipped, replaced by a chill that frosted the air around us. He backhanded me hard, the signet ring on his middle finger splitting my cheek open, raw and hot. I went down but caught myself on one knee, forcing myself to stay upright. I tasted copper and rage.
“Still got some fight in you,” he muttered, shaking his hand. “Good. I want the boyfriend to see what’s left of you when he finally shows up.”
He straightened, motioned to the guards. “Get her up and bring her out here.” He ordered as he strolled out of the cell.
They hauled me to my feet and dragged me out, held me in front of the cell; one on each arm.
Steiner circled, slow, inspecting the damage like he was shopping for produce.
“You always had a mouth on you, Harper. I had trained it out of you. Looks like we’re starting over.
” He smirked at Brie. “Your sister, though? All she ever wanted was to be wanted. Sad, really.”
Brie sobbed, arms wrapped around her waist. I tried to reach for her, but the guards yanked me back.