Chapter 3
3
Crew
Sitting on a metal chair with my wrists shackled to a metal table in front of me, I knew three things:
My pack was in trouble.
I had no clue where my omega was.
And I was going to kill the man sitting across from me.
Truthfully, Alaric Martin had been a thorn in my side since he’d been transferred to the Billings field office a little over a year earlier. He was close with the Director of the FBI, a douchey excuse for an alpha who supported the newly elected President Anders in his push for pack reform.
Their beliefs—that omegas existed only to serve alphas, and that betas were little more than peasants in society—clashed with mine and those of my pack.
After waking up from whatever I’d been drugged with, I’d been hauled into this interrogation room by men I’d once considered colleagues. Martin had entered a few minutes after they’d chained me up like a feral animal.
It was a good call.
I’d have snapped his thick neck with my bare hands if given the chance.
But so far, Martin had done little but stare at me with this twisted little smirk. He was enjoying the fuck out of this. As much as I wanted to wait him out, the clock over the door directly behind the asshole was a visible reminder that time was ticking by.
I’d already deduced that, thanks to whatever tranquilizer had been shot into my system, I’d been unconscious for a little over two hours. And I’d been sitting here for twenty-four minutes.
Wait.
Twenty-five.
My teeth ground together as I glared at the man in front of me, the shittiest excuse for an alpha ever.
Sighing, Martin leaned back and folded his pudgy fingers over his belly. “Did you seriously think you’d get away with it?”
I didn’t bother deigning that question with a response. “I want my phone call, and my attorney.”
“I’ll bet you do, but you’ve been accused of illegally taking an omega without OS approval. An omega who has already been promised, by her legal guardian, to another man. Those are international crimes that are more trouble than one of your daddy’s attorneys can fix.” Martin made a clicking sound with his tongue. “Always thought you were better than us mere mortals, didn’t you, Dutton?”
I gritted my teeth, my expression stony and cold as I forced myself to shut down all the fury and fear writhing in my chest like a wraith on the hunt for an innocent soul.
Hazel and my pack needed me to keep it together, so I would.
And as soon as I knew they were safe, I was going to ruin Alaric Martin for attempting to keep me from Hazel for even a second.
Huh. Maybe that was the metric I needed to focus on.
For every second Martin kept me from Hazel, I’d torture him for a minute.
I allowed myself an inward smirk, knowing Kellan would be fully on board. Jude, too. Rhett would remind us to bide our time so we didn’t get caught, but he’d happily carve Martin up like a Halloween pumpkin, too.
“Something funny?” Martin sneered.
“Just imagining the way you’re gonna die,” I admitted.
Martin blanched for just a heartbeat before his face went red with indignation. “You’re threatening me? You realize I’m still the Special Agent in Charge, and you’re nothing , right? You want me to tack on an attempted murder charge?”
I lifted my brows. “First, everyone dies, Martin. It’s fucking fact, so me imagining your death—gruesome as I’m hoping for—isn’t a crime.” I leaned forward. “And second, attempted implies the other party isn't murdered. So, let’s be perfectly clear, okay? If I wanted to kill you, we both know I would.”
I will.
His mouth gaped open like a fish.
The corner of my mouth hitched. “Again, I said if . This is just a hypothetical conversation between… Well, I think it’s safe to say friendship was never on the table for us.”
Martin slammed a fist on the table. “I’m going to enjoy watching your pack be formally dismantled, Dutton. You’ve always been a smug bastard.”
“And you’ve always been a small-dicked sack of shit.” It was freeing to no longer be tethered by the chain of command. I didn’t have to fake respect for a man I loathed. “Do you honestly think Henry Reed’s claim will hold up in court?”
Martin glowered like a petulant child.
“You saw Hazel’s medical records. You know that no judge in the fucking country would honor a claim from a man like Donovan Ellis. A man under suspicion of domestic terrorism.” My fingers curled into fists. “He abused Hazel for years .”
He gave an indifferent sniff. “An omega needs the control of a firm alpha.”
“He had her chained to a table, ready to rape her in front of a room full of fucked up followers,” I roared, remembering the scene I’d run into weeks earlier.
“He is her alpha ,” Martin spat. “It is his right to claim her as he sees fit.”
“Last I checked, only omegas registered with Omega Services could be bonded,” I reminded him. “Henry Reed never registered his niece with OS when she presented.”
His eyes lit up. “So, you admit she never presented when you say you claimed her? Wasn’t that the whole basis of your argument to OS?”
I barked out a laugh. “I’m fucking done with this conversation. Release me and my pack or get my fucking lawyer, Martin.”
Martin pushed away from the table and stood, tugging at the bottom of his black suit jacket. “No.”
“No?” I scoffed. “You forget how the law works? Or have you been so busy playing in the gray that you forgot my pack has rights?”
“Not at all,” he replied coolly. “But President Anders signed a new law into place this morning that makes kidnapping or illegally detaining an omega a capital offense. Your omega was promised to another alpha, so congratulations, Crew. You and your pack are going to be remanded to a maximum security site. Once you’re processed, you’ll be allowed to contact your attorney.”
I yanked at the chains linking me to the table. The chair scraped back as I stood.
Martin glanced at his watch. “Don’t worry. You should be moved and processed in the next day or so.”
“You fucking?—”
I was cut off by the door slamming open, a smaller agent named Conklin appearing in the room.
Martin spun, furious. “I said we weren’t to be interrupted.”
“Yes, sir.” Conklin gulped, looking like the most terrified alpha I’d ever seen. “There’s been a new development.”
Martin sighed. “What now?”
Conklin’s gaze flicked to me for a second before going back to Martin. “It’s all over the news—an omega’s been reported as kidnapped.”
My heart stopped beating as Martin spluttered a frantic, “ What ?”
“It’s going viral. Every news outlet in the country is airing security cam footage of OS agents being gunned down in a driveway before the omega was taken.” Conklin’s gaze roved to me once again, and I knew.
Hazel .
I placed a boot on the edge of the table and pulled with all my strength. The snap of the eye hook cracking away from the table barely penetrated the sound of blood rushing in my ears.
Martin gaped at me. “Y-you can’t?—”
“I fucking dare you to stop me,” I growled, stalking around the table.
Martin backed up so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. As it was, he crashed into Conklin, knocking the agent back.
“I’ll have them knock you out again, Dutton,” Martin threatened.
“Sir, they’re reporting the omega who was taken was supposed to be in protective custody, but,” Conklin swallowed hard, “you pulled the agents away from her.”
Watching Martin go whiter than the cinder block walls around us would’ve been more satisfying if I wasn’t about to burn the fucking world down, or moments away from freefalling into the abyss of pure terror.
“The Director is on the phone for you, sir,” Conklin added.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck ,” Martin hissed, wiping his sweaty face with a trembling hand. His beady eyes landed on me. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
My chest expanded as I sucked in a deep breath. “My team is one of the best, and you fucking know it.”
“You’re still under arrest,” Martin whined, sounding less like a leader and more like a school boy who’d been caught jerking off in the library.
“Even you can’t be that stupid.” All three of us turned to look down the hall in the direction of Oakley’s booming voice. He strode down the corridor, his long legs quickly eating up the distance between us until he towered over Martin.
“Wh-what are you doing here?” Martin spluttered.
“Getting Crew and his pack so we can go follow the lead we have on his missing omega,” Oak retorted.
“You have a lead?” I demanded as Martin argued, “She isn’t theirs .”
Oak opted to address Martin by arching his dark brows. “No? Then why is Senator Coulson currently holding a press conference about his son’s missing omega? Why is President Anders vowing to help his good friend the senator get Hazel Jones returned safely to this pack?”
Martin crumbled before us, his head bowed as he accepted he’d been beaten. He jerked his head at Conklin, who scrambled to uncuff me, the chains making a heavy thunk as they hit the floor.
I rolled my shoulders, working out the tension as I took several deep breaths to get my bearings. Make a plan.
Holy fuck.
Oak’s words finally registered, and I turned to face him in stunned amazement. “Rhett’s dad made a statement?”
Oakley gave me a terse nod. “He did.”
“And you have a lead?”
“Bowen called in a favor,” was his short reply.
I turned and glared at Martin. “Your play, boss . But if you think I won’t raze this place to the ground to get my pack, you’re sorely mistaken.”
Oakley cracked his knuckles with a wild grin. “Sounds like fun to me.”
Martin glanced at Conklin. “Release the others. I’ll go speak with the Director and see how we can assist.”
I marched forward, shoulder-checking Martin into the opposite wall. “You can help by staying the fuck out of my way.”