Chapter 15
Menace
I’d seen men go to pieces before, and it always took me by surprise which ones did.
Bronc wasn’t a man built for coming apart; he was the kind you expected to survive nuclear fire and walk out with his hair only slightly out of place.
But the phone call from Arsenal had pushed him to the brink.
After what had happened when he’d lost Juliet just weeks ago, he’d been a man on the edge.
He hung up, then spent a minute circling the perimeter of our suite, shoulders so tight it looked like he’d tear through his suit jacket.
When he dialed back, I thought the phone itself might dissolve under the strain of his grip.
I sat on the edge of the sofa, hands resting on my knees, body so still it might have belonged to a corpse.
I watched Bronc pace, watched the cords in his neck stand out, his mouth opening and closing like he was chewing through iron wire.
There was a subtle tremor in his hands—a new thing, and one I catalogued with silent dread.
“Please explain to me how you fucking lost her,” he spat into the phone, barely waiting for Arsenal to say hello.
The voice coming out of the speaker was measured and slow, but Bronc cut him off at every turn.
“You had one job, Jess. One. Fucking. Job. Did you forget how to watch a goddamn door?” A pause, then: “I don’t care about the cameras. What happened with Karen Day?”
He stalked to the window, jaw flexing. Arsenal’s voice had the calm of a man who knew it wasn’t his fault and wasn’t about to get rattled by someone else’s panic.
“She set her up?” Bronc bellowed, slamming the heel of his hand against the glass.
“And you just let it happen? How the fuck did she even know who Savannah was?”
It sounded like Arsenal was pacing as well.
“Apparently she has a cousin who’s a member of an East pack.
It seems word had gotten around that Savannah had been on the run, and the gossipy bitch and Karen put two and two together.
She saw an opportunity to rid herself of her roadblock to Menace, and she fucking took it.
She had all the admin keys, alarm codes, and so she could set it up before we had a chance to know what happened.
Savannah was gone before I could even get to the rear lot. There was a van waiting.”
“Did you get a plate?”
“Covered with mud. But it’s in the security surveillance log.”
Bronc’s eyes slid to me. I met them and shook my head: not worth killing the messenger. He looked back at the phone. “Do we have eyes on the airport? Has the jet left?”
“Gone thirty minutes ago. Decoy SUV stayed parked, but I checked the tarmac myself. She’s in the air.”
Bronc closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and exhaled like a bull before the charge. “Goddamn it. Lock it all down. Nobody in or out, not even for groceries. I want the entire compound on alert. Understood?”
“Understood,” Arsenal replied. “What about Juliet?”
A muscle in Bronc’s face twitched. He let the silence linger a beat too long. “She’s your Luna. She’s safe, right?”
“Sir, we’re protecting our Luna. There are no threats. Wrecker’s with her, and they’re in the bunker.”
Bronc’s nod was slow, deliberate. “Tell Juliet I’ll be in touch in a while. And keep a gun on Karen Day.”
“She’s on lockdown. District’s already given her the boot for the breach.”
“Not enough. She’s our problem, and we’ll make damn sure she’s not anyone’s solution, either. Got it?”
“Copy. I’ll call you if anything else moves.”
The line clicked off. Bronc let the phone drop to his thigh, and for a long second, he just stood there, outlined by the suite’s blue-white exterior lights, back rigid as rebar.
Then, with a deliberation I hadn’t seen since the desert, he turned and walked to the mini-fridge.
Pulled a bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and emptied half of it in a single, shaking swallow.
I didn’t say a word. It wasn’t my place as far as the security of pack territory goes.
And besides, I could feel the same rage bubbling in me, just aimed at a different target.
I wanted to blame Arsenal, but the reality was this: if you put your trust in anyone, you risk them failing you.
It wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last. Still, Arsenal was a Force Recon man, hard as coffin nails and twice as reliable.
If he got taken out of play by a school administrator, it was because she’d set the trap with help.
Bronc pressed his knuckles to the countertop until they blanched white. “Look, I know you want to light it all on fire,” he murmured, voice low.
“I do,” I said.
“Your restraint is admirable.” He looked over, found my face, and the set of his jaw softened. “Didn’t think I’d be the one losing my cool.”
“You’re not losing your cool,” I said. “You’re pissed because you care. If you ever stop, that’s when I worry. And I’m hangin’ on by a thread here.”
He snorted, the closest he’d come to a laugh since the call. “Well, let’s keep each other in check. We lose it, this whole thing goes straight to hell.” He straightened and rolled his shoulders, the energy in him shifting from fury to calculation in a heartbeat. He dialed Juliet.
She picked up after one ring. I couldn’t hear her side of the conversation, but I didn’t need to.
Her voice always managed to cut through even the worst storm.
Bronc’s whole posture changed. He paced again, but his footfalls were slower, less violent.
He kept his words clipped, businesslike, but every now and then, a softness crept in.
“No, it’s not your fault,” he said. “She’ll be okay. We’re going to get her back.”
Pause.
“Juliet, I said we will get her back. The Council won’t know what hit them.
Yeah. I love you, too.” His hand trembled for a second on the phone, then he forced it still.
“Just promise me you’ll stay put. Wrecker’s got the house locked up tight.
” Another pause, then, with a low growl: “Juliet, please.”
The call ended, and for a moment, Bronc stood looking at the dark reflection in the TV screen. His voice was softer, but I heard the edge in it. “She’s flying to Chicago tonight. She’ll be there for the Council hearing.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Thought you told her to stay in Dairyville.”
“Have you ever known her to listen?” he asked. “At least I’m aware of it this time.”
“Must be why you love her.” It came out more gentle than I expected. “She’s the only person on earth who can tell you to eat shit and make you want to buy her flowers after.”
He smiled when he looked at me. “Well, it looks to me like you’re well on your way, brother. You’re basically about to face a firing squad for your mate.”
I just nodded.
The silence stretched, comfortable for the first time since the news hit. I reached for the bottle of scotch in the minibar, poured two fingers into a glass, and slid it over. “Take it,” I said. “You need it as much as me.”
Bronc stared at the amber for a second, then downed it in one gulp. “You think our pack’s falling apart?”
I shook my head. “Fuck no. We have more wolves than we know what to do with, and most of them would rather die than betray their Alpha. If anything, we’re overdue for someone to challenge the balance of power.
It’s what happens when you’re at the top.
Your father faced it from time to time. Just your turn. ”
He grunted. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just getting old.”
“You’re forty-three, an infant by our standards. I mean, you look like shit, but you’ve always looked like shit.” My attempt at humor landed; he laughed, just a flash, but it made the air feel less like a funeral.
His eyes found mine. “You ready for Chicago?”
“I will fucking burn Chicago down to get my mate back. I’m ready to murder her father, her brother, that fucking king of the Midwest…”
He took a call from Rafe and then shook his head. The energy in him was different—focused, lethal. The exhaustion was still there, the lines around his eyes deeper than they had any right to be, but I could see the wolf in him back at the surface.
He grabbed his bag and unzipped it, and started laying out the hardware: two handguns, backup magazines, a switchblade he kept for close encounters.
I did the same, checking my own Glock and the silver-tipped rounds I’d loaded that morning.
If the Council wanted a show, we’d give them a goddamn fireworks display.
“Rest up,” he said, voice all business again. “Rafe says we fly out in an hour. We’ll leave our jet here. Work out the details for how we’ll get it and ourselves back to Texas. So goddamn ready. Logistical fucking nightmare.”
I nodded, more than ready to get the hell out of here. I wanted to trust that the Council might somehow surprise us and do the right thing. But I sure as shit sat on “go” and waited for them to give us a reason to kill.
The sky turned a deeper blue as we climbed north, and the private jet’s window seemed too small for what I wanted: a way out, a way in, any way to get my hands on Savannah.
Bronc sat across the aisle, pretending to read a report from Rafe’s security team but mostly watching me watch the horizon.
We’d each taken up the classic seating—backs never to the aisle, sight lines clear, nothing left to chance.
King Rafe’s people didn’t skimp on the amenities.
The cabin had white leather seats, deep-pile carpet, and smoked glass dividers between each pair of seats.
Most would call it comfort. To me it was a slow-burn reminder of just how little money mattered when your mate was somewhere between two states and one step from being sold off.