5. Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Jax
A s Ronan pushes the car past the edge of the district, I twist around, scanning every shadow, nerves wire-tight. The streets behind us are dead quiet. No one seems to be following. Cold air whips through the interior as we use the flow to get the gas out of our hair and clothing.
"I don’t see anything. Think we lost them.” The words taste bitter. “Or… maybe they aren’t even coming." The thought lands hard, thick with heat that settles in my gut and rots. "They didn’t expect us to survive. That gas. Shit, they zeroed that whole place. That was a de liberate wipe."
It wasn’t just some knockout stuff. I recognized the burn, the way it clawed at my throat, fogged my head, numbed my hands and blurred my vision.
A lethal cocktail designed to kill. We’ve seen similar deployed overseas, used by regimes who wanted nobody to ever know what happened behind their closed doors.
Gabriel wipes sweat from his brow with a shaky hand before wrapping his arms around our Omega again. "As soon as the mist hit, those males bolted. They knew what it was."
The knowledge Hardwick was willing to kill everyone, including her guards slams hits me hard. Hardwick was ready to purge everything. Our Omega, every other poor soul who suffered in that place. All at the flick of a button and a vent in the ceiling.
I’ve seen a lot of horrors with my bond brothers, but that chills me to the core.
Ronan’s knuckles tighten on the wheel, the city lights stuttering by in the rear window. "The place was a death trap by design. They set it up to leave no trace."
"Yeah," I mutter, voice rough. "I bet anything they used the old tunnels in the rail network right underneath the station, and… Gods, if you wanted to run a slavery ring, hiding it over a secret escape route would be how you’d do it. No wonder the authorities haven’t been able to catch these traffickers in the act.
It was all underground and off the books. "
My hands fist on my thighs as I cough, throat burning.
Everyone responsible for that place got away.
The senator used the cover of the fight, and the males used our need to secure Leah to get away.
The blond male we saw exiting the building before we found our Omega has hit my shit list. He’ll have secrets we’ll want to extract.
"Are you still suffering the effects of the gas?" Ronan asks.
"Bit woozy, but my head’s clearing." I swallow, turning toward Gabriel next to me and the precious cargo in his lap. "Gabe?"
He nods, rubbing his eyes. "I’ll live."
What matters now is the Omega curled in Gabriel’s lap. She hasn’t woken; she hasn’t made a sound since we pulled her from that gurney. Leah’s skin is too hot, slicked with sweat and too pale .
"Hardwick took her blood. Too much blood," I admit, soft and scared in a way I will never let anyone but my brothers see. "She hasn’t stirred."
Ronan eyes her in the rearview. "We have to get her somewhere safe. The senator wanted Leah dead, and we can’t let her think otherwise. That means no hospitals. No public places. Harrow Street is our best option."
The streetlights flick over her shiny face as Ronan peels onto a wider street.
I agree with him. Our safe house apartment is untraceable, hidden among business travelers and shift workers who never talk to neighbors. We've run extractions from there before.
"Pinnacle’s the safest clinic in the city unless someone leaks that she’s there and Hardwick gets wind of it.
No, we keep her off the radar. No ambulance, no check-in, no trail to follow.
Harrow Street keeps our girl hidden and gives us time to stabilize her.
If she crashes, we’ll risk Pinnacle. Until then, she’s safest in our hands. No one else’s," I say.
"It’s clear Hardwick forced her into a heat and who knows what the fuck else,” Ronan continues. “Leah needs fluids, monitoring, a quiet place and us. She needs her mates more than she needs doctors."
"Agreed," Gabriel adds. "She needs to heal without strangers breathing down her neck."
Harrow Street is the only place in the city where we can give her proper care and still disappear into the crowd.
We can keep her close, eyes on every entrance and exit.
If it goes sideways, we’ve got two exit points and we’re just two blocks from every major artery in the city.
Harrow is security and invisibility in one.
The only fortress I trust now, with the senator willing to kill our Omega to keep her quiet.
When we designed the safe house, we included a dedicated nesting room, tucked away from the main living space. The walls are soundproof, the lighting adjustable, and every surface is soft or easy to clean. We stocked the place with blankets, pillows, and everything for a rescued Omega to feel safe.
I never thought we’d need it for our own .
Gabriel shifts, glancing at Ronan. "We should probably let Mira and Emma know we’ve got Leah. Adrian, too. We were hired to get her out and bring her home."
Ronan’s jaw grinds. "We owe them a call. But if anyone’s monitoring comms or messages, we’ll lead Hardwick right to us. The senator already pulled off one ambush. She’s not above trying again. We need to be damned sure it’s safe before we tip our hand. Our Omega is too precious to risk."
I rub Leah’s wrist with his thumb. "Mira and Emma deserve to know Leah is safe, but you’re right. This is about Leah. I’m sure Emma and Mira want her back safely enough to forgive a few days out of contact.”
It didn’t matter if they didn’t like it. We’d weather any storm to protect our Omega.
I brush hair from her cheek, fingers lingering just to prove she’s real. Her essence saturates the car, sweet and sharp, threaded through with the raw musk of heat.
"She wasn’t in heat at the gala," I mutter.
"No. She wasn’t. Why force it on her? Hardwick had to know she was running out of time," Gabe says.
My cock aches, hard and insistent, every instinct sharpened to ease our Omega through her heat. Her need seeps into my chest and claws under my skin, drawing my balls tight. The pull to her is brutal. Magnetic. A frantic longing anchors behind my sternum and yanks.
Leah is nothing but skin and bone wrapped in rags that barely cover the bruises painting her body.
They’ve battered her so badly, I doubt a single inch of her escaped.
I’ve seen traumatized Omegas before. Too many, but this is so much worse.
This is systematic, unending, and designed to break her completely.
I shove down the anger, holding it tight behind my teeth.
There’ll be time for fury. Right now, she deserves strength, calm, and a place to heal.
She needs her scent-matched Alphas .
"The senator will pay for this. I swear it. She’ll bleed for every bruise, every cut, every drop of blood she’s ever stolen from an Omega. Especially ours." I make my promise to the universe.
Gabriel’s jaw ticks. "She took bags of her blood when she ran. Why the hell was the senator bleeding our Omega dry?"
"Whatever the reason, it wasn’t to help anyone but herself." Ronan glances at Leah in the mirror, his gaze softening just a fraction. "First, we give our girl a fighting chance. She’s our priority. Then we’ll find Hardwick and pay her a little visit. This doesn’t end here."
The promise hangs heavy between us, thrumming like iron under our skin. It’s good to know we’re on the same page with our priorities.
Leah first.
Revenge later.
Both are vows etched into my marrow.
Leah stirs and her eyes blink open. For a second, she just stares, glassy and stunned before her gaze darts frantically around the car at Gabriel holding her, Ronan’s broad shoulders at the wheel and then to me as city lights streak past in the dark.
Confusion clouds her face as it morphs. Her pupils blow wide, swallowing the last traces of her irises as her body goes rigid, breath see-sawing from her lungs.
Her sweet rose turns bitter with the edge of sharp dread.
"Leah. Hey. It’s all right. You’re safe. We will not hurt you. Just slow down, okay?" My heart pounds with the urge to hold her tight, to soothe, but I can only continue talking and keep my voice calm.
Gabriel bands his arms around her, gentle but firm. "Leah. Please. We rescued you. You’re not at the facility anymore. The senator can’t touch you. We’re here to help."
"She forced you into heat, Sweetheart. We’re going to help you through it. We’ll take away your pain," I say.
Ronan glances back, voice deep and rough. "Breathe. Just breathe our scents. We’re your mates. Your scent-matches. The last thing we’d do is hurt you. "
Her body quakes as her gaze skitters between Gabe and me.
A wounded sound escapes her, part whine, all terror.
Her terror is a living thing writhing inside her.
She jerks in Gabriel’s lap, fingers clawing at his face and her nails rake his cheek.
Blood beads as she gasps, eyes round with horror at what she’s done.
She twists sideways, half collapsing off Gabriel and into my lap as Gabriel tries not to hurt her while keeping her safe.
My fingers close around her barely-there biceps, "Leah, please, you’re going to hurt yourself…"
Panic takes over. She bangs her knee into the console, and she’s in danger of wedging her body between the seats. She’s coming apart. If I let go, she’ll hurt herself even worse.
I do the only thing left and let my purr vibrate loose from my chest, deep and low as thunder. I pour everything I have into that sound.
She stills, breath catching. She stops thrashing, limbs going weak, eyes drooping.
"Keep that up, brother," Gabriel whispers as we gently maneuver her into my lap.
She whimpers, the sound spearing my heart, but my purr works.
I struggle to believe I have my Omega in my lap, that I’m purring for her even if I hate the reason.
Her heart pounds so strongly I feel it in my chest. My fingers slide up her frail body to cup her nape.
She jerks weakly against me, still fighting, and I instantly fall in love with her spirit.
"Give her your scent, brother," Ronan says.
I press her nose to the gland in my neck, my scent speaking louder than my words ever could. She draws in a deep breath and her body becomes limp against me.
Ronan’s voice is barely a whisper from the front seat. "Keep that up, Jax. We’re close to base. Just need her calm enough to get inside."
I nod, not trusting my voice but relieved. So relieved, because she’s woken at the very least. I cradle her head, thumb slowly stroking her hair. My purr keeps rolling, determined to comfort her for a little longer .
We pull into the private garage beneath our Harrow Street apartment. I never appreciated our careful planning more. Ronan plugs in the code to raise the gate and glides us through the rows of cars to our secure parking space. The engine cuts.
None of us speak. Ronan slides his hands over his face before he turns to look at Leah from the driver’s seat. “Come one. Let’s get her inside.”
I slide out of the back seat, moving slow so I don’t jar her.
She doesn’t even flinch, her eyes half-open but blank, whole body limp and heavy.
Gabe says my name, but I barely hear him.
All I can do is hold her tighter, whispering useless words, praying she’ll blink or move or so anything to prove she’s still here.
I keep purring as I exit the vehicle, Gabriel moving first to cover us, Ronan scouting the shadows. We take nothing for granted.
The elevator is just feet away, another code unlocking it. The doors slide open. Ronan guides us in, his body a wall on one side, Gabriel ready to fight on the other as we enter the small space.
Leah stays soft in my arms, not entirely peaceful but quiet, her breath catching at my throat as the elevator takes us to the top floor.
When the doors slide open, we sweep through the hall, one last check for safety, then open the door at the end to our apartment with another secure code.
The silence inside doesn’t claw at us, but wraps tight, and as Ronan locks the door behind us and Gabriel strides to our medical supplies, I carry her straight to the nesting room.
I press my lips to Leah’s sweat-damp hair as I settle her in the middle of the mattress and pray to whatever God is listening.
Please let us be enough.