13. Finn
Chapter 13
Finn
T he road feels long. Every mile put behind us feels no closer to where we need to be. I keep my eyes on the road even though I’m not even the one driving.
In the side mirror, I spot the Ashgraves following closely behind.
We’re going to end this.
“Finn,” Jax says, eyes flicking from the road to me. “You stick close to Stone. No heroics. I know you can handle yourself, but these Ashgraves…”
“I don’t trust them,” I finish for him.
He nods. “They’re not like us. They don’t have the same…boundaries.”
“I noticed,” I say dryly.
As we race down the road, I can’t stop thinking about Hailey. Is she alright? Has Ren caught up with her yet? She’s so different from me. Gentle where I’m abrasive, kind where I’m suspicious. How she somehow saw past all my defenses, all my walls, and loved me anyway, I’ll never know.
I need her back.
“Jax,” I say suddenly, “did you mean what you said back there? About Heath not leaving alive?”
His eyes meet mine in the mirror again, something cold and resolute in his gaze. “Yes.”
We’ve never talked about murder before. It wasn’t something I’d have thought any of us capable of. But now…
I stare out the windscreen, my teeth clenching.
“Good.”
Stone gives me a curious look, but I don’t elaborate. I don’t have to. Thinking about Hailey in the hands of people who would hurt her, use her, I feel something dangerous rising within me. Something that has nothing to do with societal expectations and everything to do with the bone-deep need to protect my mate.
Maybe this is what it means to be an omega. Not the passive, gentle creature society says I should be, but this—this fierce, burning need to safeguard what’s mine.
“They’re calling,” Stone says as his phone lights up. He answers, putting it on speaker.
“Change of plans,” Riordan’s voice comes through. “We have intel that Heath is moving. She’s evacuating the facility as we speak.”
Jax curses under his breath. “How do you know?”
“We have our sources,” Riordan replies vaguely. “She’s heading to a secondary location. Private airstrip about twenty miles east of the facility.”
“She’s running,” Stone says.
“Clever bitch,” Declan’s voice chimes in from the background.
Jax’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “If she gets on a plane…”
“We’ll lose her,” I finish, my heart sinking.
“Not necessarily,” Stone says, pulling out his laptop. “Ren has apps here that might track her movements if we can get a lock on her phone or vehicle.”
“No need,” Riordan says. “We know exactly where she’s going. Take the next exit and follow our lead.”
Jax hesitates, clearly conflicted about following the Ashgraves blindly.
“We don’t have time for trust issues, Ironwood,” Riordan says, as if reading his thoughts. “Your omega’s life depends on it.”
That decides it. Jax takes the exit, following the Ashgraves’ SUV as it accelerates ahead of us.
“How do they know all this?” I ask, suspicion nagging at me.
“They have connections we don’t,” Stone answers, still typing on Ren’s laptop. “Those bastards operate in shadows most people don’t even know exist.”
“But why help us?” I press. “Really. A stake in a gym doesn’t seem worth all this.”
Jax meets my eyes in the mirror again. “Because it’s not about the gym, babe,” he says. “It’s about establishing a legitimate business connection with us. Insurance.”
“Insurance?”
“The Ashgraves operate on the edge of legality,” Stone explains. “And I mean the edge. Having public ties to a respectable business like Iron Fitness gives them cover. Legitimacy.”
“And they get to launder money through us,” Jax adds grimly.
The implications sink in. “So we’re making a deal with devils.”
“For Hailey,” Stone says, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “For Ren.”
I nod, swallowing hard. “For pack.”
The Ashgraves’ SUV accelerates further, and Jax matches their speed. The landscape blurs outside my window—dark trees, occasional buildings, the distant glow of city lights fading behind us as we head into more remote territory.
My phone buzzes with a text. It’s from Connor, which is unsettling since I never gave him my number.
The omega we’re after. The one you called your ‘mate’. What’s she like?
I stare at the message, unsure how to respond. Why would an Ashgrave care about Hailey’s personality?
After a moment, I type back:
Why does it matter?
The response comes quickly:
Just curious what kind of omega inspires this level of devotion.
I frown at the screen. There’s something about the question that feels off, but I can’t place why. I finally type back:
She’s everything
Kind. Brave. Strong in ways most people don’t understand.
I hesitate, then add:
She’s worth all of this and more.
There’s a long pause before his reply appears:
Then we’ll get her back.
It’s unexpectedly sincere, which makes me even more suspicious. I show the exchange to Stone, who reads it with a furrowed brow.
“Maybe he’s trying to figure out what she’s worth,” he says quietly. “If she’s valuable.”
The thought makes my blood run cold. “You think they’d?—”
“I don’t know,” Stone cuts me off. “But don’t tell them anything else.”
I nod, slipping my phone back into my pocket. The idea that the Ashgraves might have their own agenda regarding Hailey isn’t surprising, but it is terrifying.
“Jax,” Stone says, leaning forward between the seats. “We need to be prepared for the possibility that the Ashgraves aren’t just helping us.”
Jax nods grimly. “Already on it. I have a contingency plan.”
“Care to share?” I ask.
He glances at me in the rearview mirror. “The less you know, the better. But trust me, I’m not letting anyone take Hailey from us again.”
Jax’s phone rings. He puts it on speaker.
“Approaching the target area,” Riordan’s voice comes through. “Cut your lights.”
Jax complies, our SUV going dark as we continue along an increasingly narrow road. Ahead, the Ashgraves have done the same.
“There,” Stone says suddenly, pointing through the windshield.
In the distance, barely visible through the trees, are the lights of what must be the private airstrip. A small hangar, a control tower, and a runway illuminated by low lights. A few vehicles are parked near the hangar, including what looks like a black limousine.
“That’s her,” Jax says, his voice tight with certainty. “Heath travels in style.”
The Ashgraves’ SUV pulls off the road about half a mile from the airstrip, concealing itself among the trees. We follow suit, parking beside them.
As we exit our vehicle, the night air hits me with a chill that has nothing to do with temperature. This is it. We’re really doing this.
The Ashgraves are already checking weapons. Riordan holsters a pistol at his side, while Ellis adjusts what looks like a sniper rifle. Declan is strapping on a tactical vest, and Connor checks something on a tablet device.
“She’s inside the hangar,” Connor reports, showing the tablet to Riordan. On the screen is a thermal image of the airstrip, with several heat signatures visible inside the main building.
“How many?” Jax asks, moving to peer at the screen.
“Eight,” Connor answers. “One’s separated from the others—that’ll be Heath. The rest are security.”
“Private jet’s already on the tarmac,” Ellis observes, looking through the scope of the rifle. “Fueled and ready to go.”
“Then we don’t have much time,” Stone says, checking his weapon.
Jax turns to me. “Finn, I want you to?—”
“Don’t,” I interrupt, already knowing what he’s going to say. “Don’t tell me to stay behind.”
Jax’s eyes darken. Before I can speak, he grabs the front of my vest and yanks me forward, crushing his mouth against mine. I gasp against his lips, a soft whimper escaping before I can stop it.
The kiss is hard, all desperation and barely restrained fury. I can taste his fear, his determination, the unspoken promise that we’re all coming back alive.
When he pulls away, his breath comes ragged. “Stay with Stone,” he orders, voice rough. “Do exactly as he says. If things go sideways, you get out. No arguments.”
“But—”
Jax cuts me off with another bruising kiss, his fingers digging into my jaw. “ No arguments ,” he repeats against my lips. “Hailey needs you alive, Finn. I need you alive.”
Before I can respond, Stone’s large hand wraps around my arm and spins me around. His kiss is even more punishing than Jax’s—a claiming, a vow. His teeth scrape my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, and I groan into his mouth.
“Here,” Stone growls when he finally releases me, placing a hand over my holster. His eyes burn with barely restrained intensity. “You remember how to use one of these?”
I nod. Despite my earlier bravado, I can’t stop myself from shaking. This isn’t hypothetical anymore. This is real.
“Hey,” Stone says softly. “You don’t have to do this.”
I meet his eyes. “Yes, I do.”
He studies me for a moment, then nods. “Stay behind me. Shoot only if necessary.”
“What about them?” I ask, nodding toward the Ashgraves, who are conferring among themselves. All except Connor Ashgrave, who I now realize watched both Stone and Jax kiss me. There’s a strange look in his soulless eyes.
“We watch our backs,” Jax says grimly. “They want Heath dead as much as we do, but beyond that…” He shrugs. “We can’t trust their priorities align with ours.”
Connor’s lips rise with a smirk as the rest of the Ashgraves finish their discussion and approach us. Riordan takes the lead, as usual.
“Here’s how this goes down,” he says without preamble. “Ellis takes position on that ridge to provide cover. Declan and I will approach from the east side. Connor, Stone, and your omega will come in from the west. Jax, you’ll?—”
“Negative.” Jax’s voice slices through the plan like a blade. He moves to face Riordan. “We move as one unit. Ellis provides cover. The rest of us enter together.”
Riordan’s scar twists as he scowls. “That’s a bottleneck. We lose tactical advantage?—”
“I don’t care,” Jax says. “I’m not splitting up my pack.”
“Your pack is already split,” Connor points out mildly. “One of your alphas is chasing Caldwell, remember?”
The reminder stings, but Jax doesn’t falter. “All the more reason to keep what’s left of us together.” Jax meets Riordan’s gaze. “Heath’s security will be dispersed. We concentrate firepower. Break their lines faster than if we go in separated. You want Heath? This is how we take her.”
The tension between them builds again, a silent battle of wills. Finally, Riordan relents with a curt nod.
“Fine. We go in together. But when we get inside, we’ll need to move fast. Heath will have an escape route planned.”
“Agreed,” Jax says. “We neutralize security first, then Heath.”
“And if she surrenders?” I ask.
Six pairs of eyes turn to me, expressions ranging from surprise to amusement.
“That’s not going to happen,” Riordan says, his scarred face twisting into what might be a smile. “But if it does, we’ll cross that bridge.”
Something in his tone tells me exactly what crossing that bridge would entail.
“Let’s move out,” Jax orders. “That plane is almost ready for takeoff.”
Ellis disappears into the darkness with his rifle, heading toward the ridge overlooking the airstrip. The rest of us move toward the facility in a tight formation, using the trees for cover.
As we approach, I can see the hangar more clearly. It’s larger than it appeared from a distance, with a small attached office building. The private jet sits on the tarmac just outside, stairs deployed, engines still.
“Security patrol,” Connor whispers, pointing to a figure moving along the perimeter of the hangar.
Riordan signals to Declan, who nods and slips away from our group, moving silently through the shadows toward the guard.
“What’s he doing?” I whisper to Stone.
“Taking care of it,” Stone answers grimly.
I watch as Declan approaches the guard from behind. There’s a brief struggle—barely visible in the darkness—and then the guard slumps to the ground. Declan drags the body into the shadows before rejoining us.
“Clear,” he says quietly. “There are two more at the main entrance.”
“Can we avoid them?” Jax asks.
“Side entrance,” Connor suggests, nodding toward a smaller door on the west side of the hangar. “Maintenance access. Less likely to be guarded.”
We change course, staying low as we cross the open ground between the tree line and the building. My heart hammers in my chest, every sense heightened.
When we reach the side door, Connor examines the lock. “Electronic,” he murmurs. “But manageable.”
He pulls out a small device from his pocket, attaching it to the keypad beside the door. The device lights up, numbers flashing across its tiny screen as it cycles through combinations.
“How long?” Jax asks.
“Thirty seconds,” Connor replies, eyes on the device. “Maybe less.”
Stone positions himself between me and the open area behind us, his body shielding mine. I should feel protected. Instead, I feel trapped, caught between my need to help and the reality of my limitations.
The device beeps softly, and the door’s lock clicks open.
“We’re in,” Connor announces, pocketing the device.
Riordan takes point, easing the door open and peering inside. “Clear,” he whispers. “Storage room. Hangar’s through the next door.”
We file inside, the door closing silently behind us. The storage room is dark and cramped, filled with maintenance equipment and aviation supplies.
Riordan presses his ear to the inner door, listening intently. After a moment, he turns to us. “At least two voices. One female—could be Heath.”
“Let me,” Jax says, moving beside him. He listens for a moment, then nods. “That’s her. I recognize her voice.”
My stomach tightens at the confirmation. The woman responsible for Hailey’s abduction is just on the other side of that door.
“Plan?” Stone asks quietly.
Riordan’s eyes scan our faces, assessing our readiness. “Standard breach. Connor takes point, Declan and I flank. You three,” he nods to Jax, Stone, and me, “maintain position at the entry until we’ve secured immediate threats.”
Jax’s jaw tightens, but he gives a curt nod.
Stone positions himself slightly in front of me, a subtle protective stance that doesn’t impede my sightline. I adjust my grip on the pistol, trying to ignore how foreign it feels in my hand.
Riordan signals Connor, who moves into position beside the door. They communicate using hand gestures, making me realize just how much they’ve probably done this sort of thing before.
Just as Connor reaches for the handle, a burst of static breaks the silence from outside.
“Aircraft’s ready,” a voice calls over what must be a radio. “ETA on wheels up is five minutes.”
“Window’s closing,” Declan murmurs, not a trace of panic in his voice despite the complication.
Riordan catches Jax’s eye. “Change of plan. We go silent. Maintain cover as long as possible.”
Jax nods, already shifting his stance to something more predatory. I’ve never seen this version of him before. But I like it.
“On my signal,” Riordan says, no longer counting down.
Connor eases the door open just enough to assess the situation, then nods once. The three Ashgraves slip through the opening like shadows, weapons drawn. Jax follows, movements fluid, Stone right behind him.
I take a steadying breath and follow, hugging the wall as I’d seen them do, making myself a smaller target.
The hangar is cavernous, but there’s scattered equipment perfect for hiding behind. At the far end, near open doors facing the tarmac, stands a small group—four security personnel in tactical gear forming a protective diamond around a woman in an elegant pantsuit.
Veyra Heath. Even from this distance, I can see the cold precision in her movements as she checks her watch.
We advance using the hangar’s equipment as cover, moving from shadow to shadow. Twenty yards away now. Fifteen.
But luck isn’t with us. One of Heath’s security personnel scans the hangar more thoroughly than his colleagues. His hand suddenly moves to his earpiece.
Everything accelerates. The security team pivots, weapons rising. Riordan signals, and Ellis’ shot cracks through the hangar from his sniper position, dropping the alert guard in a split second that feels like it stills the air.
“Contact!” Connor shouts, abandoning stealth.
Heath’s head snaps up, eyes narrowing as she processes the threat. For a moment, genuine surprise registers before her expression hardens into something calculating.
“Take cover!” Stone barks, pulling me behind a heavy equipment cabinet as the remaining security personnel open fire.
The Ashgraves return fire with an almost terrifying ease. Each shot makes me want to tremble, to hide away, but I push those instincts down. This is for Hailey. As I lift my gun and point, trying to find an opening, my heart stops as a bullet pings off the metal cabinet Jax is hiding behind. He moves with surprising awareness, laying down covering fire before rolling to a better position behind a tool chest.
“Heath’s making for the exit,” Connor calls out, ducking as bullets ping off the metal shelving near his head.
I risk a glance around our cover. Heath is indeed backing toward the hangar doors, one security guard shielding her while the others exchange fire with us.
“We can’t let her leave,” I say to Stone, the desperation in my voice bleeding through. “She knows where Hailey is.”
Stone’s eyes meet mine, understanding deep in their pits. “Stay in my shadow. Move only when I move.” Not a request.
He signals to Jax, who acknowledges with a sharp nod. They fall into some innate pattern developed through years of pack dynamics.
Jax breaks from cover long enough to fire three precise shots, forcing one of Heath’s guards to retreat. The momentary advantage creates a gap in their defensive pattern.
“Now,” Stone says, moving laterally along our cover toward the next position—a heavy tool cabinet closer to Heath’s position.
I follow exactly in his footsteps, keeping my profile as small as possible. We use the firefight as a distraction, working our way along the edge of the hangar while the Ashgraves keep Heath’s men busy from the front.
Through gaps between equipment, I catch glimpses of Heath. She’s huddled behind a forklift, speaking urgently into a phone.
Declan notices our movement and adjusts his position to provide additional cover. “Ellis,” he says into his comm, “status on external?”
After a few seconds, he glances over at us. “Two more guards at the aircraft,” he says. “Cockpit active, pre-flight in progress.”
We’re running out of time.
“I need to get closer,” Jax says quietly from his position several yards away.
Stone nods, then glances at me. “This is where you stay.”
“Like hell.”
A flash of something—respect, pain, conflict—crosses his face before he tightens his jaw. “Then do exactly as I say.” His jaw tightens again, clearly struggling with the instinct to keep me safe. And I know this. But…we’ve only got one shot at this. “Stay behind cover, Finn.”
I confirm with a tight nod.
Stone breaks from cover, firing twice before diving behind another cabinet. Heath’s security team immediately focuses on him, bullets ricocheting off metal where he was standing seconds ago.
I hold my position as instructed, watching as the Ashgraves adapt to Stone’s movements. Riordan and Connor increase pressure from their positions while Declan works his way around shipping crates. To my right, Jax uses the distraction to advance closer to where Heath is hiding.
One of Heath’s security guards falls to Connor’s shot. Another clutches a wounded arm as he scrambles behind a stack of crates. The third remains crouched beside Heath, who has reached a tall storage rack near the hangar doors. I can see the calculation in her eyes as she surveys the open tarmac between her and the waiting plane. But it’s too exposed for a straight run.
That’s when I see it—a pathway through the equipment that would bring me within feet of her position. An angle none of the others have.
I move without conscious thought, slipping from my position toward a row of metal barrels. Stone notices immediately, his eyes widening in alarm, but he’s pinned down by gunfire.
“Finn!” he hisses, but I’m already committed.
I keep low, using every piece of cover. Within moments, I’m less than ten feet from Heath, separated only by the storage rack she’s using for cover.
She turns, sensing movement, and our eyes meet through the metal shelving. Recognition crosses her face, followed by something like amusement.
“Well,” she says. “The one that got away.”
I raise my gun, aiming through the gap in the shelving. “Where is she?” My voice is steadier than I expected, and a surge of pride and vengeance goes through me.
Heath shifts to face me fully, staying in the protection of her cover. Her security guard is distracted, returning fire at the Ashgraves.
“Quite the loyal little omega, aren’t you?” she says, studying me with cold interest. “Following your alphas into a firefight.” There’s no fear in her expression, just cold calculation.
“You’re even prettier like this,” she says. “You would have earned me more than that fat little pig.”
Is she talking about my Hailey?
I aim my gun at her, trying to keep my hand steady. “ Where is she ?”
Heath smiles, and the expression makes my skin crawl. “Safe. For now.”
“Where is Caldwell?”
Her eyebrows rise slightly. “You’re well-informed for a pack omega.”
“Tell me where she is,” I demand, taking a step closer. The gunfire continues around us, but it feels distant, as if we’re in our own bubble of tension.
“Or what?” Heath asks, seemingly unconcerned by the weapon pointed at her. “You’ll shoot me? Do you even know how to use that gun, little omega?”
Her condescension fuels my anger. “Try me,” I growl.
She studies me for a moment, then her expression shifts to something like genuine curiosity. “You’re different from other omegas I’ve known,” she observes. “Fiercer. Less…tractable. That would actually fetch you a higher price.”
The implication that she’s assessing my value as merchandise makes my blood boil. My finger tightens on the trigger.
“Finn!” Jax’s voice cuts through my rage.
Heath uses the distraction to reach into her jacket. I react instinctively, pulling the trigger.
The pistol kicks in my hand, the sound deafening even amid the ongoing firefight. The bullet tears through the gap in the shelving, catching Heath in the shoulder. She staggers backward, genuine shock crossing her face.
Her expression morphs from shock to fury. “You little?—”
I fire again. Not caring anymore. The second bullet hits her in the midsection.
Her security guard spins around, shock registering before he throws something small and cylindrical. It hits the floor between us and immediately erupts in thick, choking smoke.
I stumble back, coughing, momentarily blinded. Through watering eyes, I see shadowy figures retreating—the guard half-dragging Heath toward the hangar doors.
“She’s getting away!” I shout, firing wildly into the smoke.
Stone appears beside me, grabbing my arm. “Fall back! We can’t see!”
More gunfire erupts around us, the Ashgraves and Jax returning fire blindly into the spreading smoke. I struggle against Stone’s grip, desperate to follow Heath, but he’s too strong.
“Let me go!” I snarl. “She knows where that bastard is taking Hailey!”
“And she’ll be dead if we don’t move now,” Stone insists, pulling me back toward our original cover.
Through gaps in the smoke, I catch glimpses of Heath being rushed toward the waiting plane, blood staining her elegant suit where my bullets struck her. One of her security men falls, but the remaining few form a tight protective circle, returning fire as they retreat.
The hangar is a chaos of gunfire, smoke, and shouted commands. Jax and the Ashgraves have taken different positions, trying to get clear shots, but the smoke makes it nearly impossible.
“Cover me!” Riordan shouts, making a break for the hangar doors.
He doesn’t make it far before a hail of bullets forces him back. By the time the smoke begins to clear, Heath and her remaining security have reached the aircraft’s stairs.
“No!” I scream, watching as she’s helped onto the plane, still clutching her wounded belly.
Ellis’s rifle cracks from his position outside, taking down one more security guard, but it’s too late. The aircraft’s door closes, and the engines whine louder as it begins to taxi.
“We can’t let her get away!” I yell to anyone who’ll listen.
Riordan and the other Ashgraves are already running for the hangar exit, heading toward their vehicle. “We’re on it,” Connor calls back. “Stay with your alphas!”
The plane is moving faster now, picking up speed on the runway as we emerge from the hangar. I watch helplessly as it lifts off, disappearing into the night sky with our best lead to finding Hailey. At finding Ren.
“Fuck!” Jax slams his fist into the side of a tool chest, denting the metal.
The Ashgraves are already in their vehicle, the engine roaring to life. The SUV peels out, tires squealing as they race down the access road.
“What now?” I ask, voice hollow. “She was our only lead.”
Stone and Jax exchange a look that I can’t quite interpret.
“Not our only lead,” Stone says finally. “Ren gave us coordinates. We can find the facility Hailey was at before Caldwell took her.”
A spark of hope ignites within me. “You think there might be information there? Records?”
“It’s worth a shot,” Jax says, already moving toward our vehicle.
I follow. As Stone steps over the body of a fallen guard, he and I both stop.
A phone. Slipping from the pocket of a dead guard, the screen cracked but still lit.
Stone picks it up.
“Unlocked?” I ask, an idea forming.
Stone nods. “Yep. Why?”
I holster my gun, eyes on the night sky above, and a prayer in my heart.
“Because I have a plan.”