Chapter 30
CHAPTER 30
C hristophe
“How much farther?” Chael asks from behind the driver’s seat of his truck.
We’re en route to the home where Junior’s drug dealer has been holding up. At least, I suspect it’s where he’s been.
A small-town suburb of San Fe is where he’s located. Not for the first time I wonder about this guy’s proximity to us. Santa Fe is only a few hours from the Nightwolf commune. And the dealer is a lone wolf with no ties to any of the packs in the state as far as my searches pulled up.
“About another twenty minutes once we turn off this main road,” I answer Chael.
He nods, not looking my way.
“You’ll have to turn right at the next intersection,” I tell Chael a few minutes later.
“There’s no right turn here,” he grumpily replies, keeping his gaze on the road ahead.
I peer up to realize that he’s correct. I look over the map I’d downloaded onto the tablet that Chael brought over to the house today.
“Dammit, the map’s old,” I say as I stare at the tiny date in the corner of the image. “Let me try to find a more recent aerial view.”
“What do you need to do for that?” Chael asks.
“I’ll have to hack into the traffic light cameras, if I can,” I add while typing. Though it proves difficult, I’m able to get into an older but still updated map of the neighborhood. “Try this,” I tell Chael while studying at the map.
“Make the next right. There may be a smaller street you can make another right onto and then hook a left.”
I peer up to stare out of the window, watching as Chael follows my directions to a T.
“Perfect. We’re on the right street now. All we have to do is find house number thirteen-twenty-eight.”
Chael’s response is a grunt.
A minute later we drive past the correct address. Both Chael and Chance check to ensure there aren’t many people wandering about.
The neighborhood is pretty rundown. Not the type to likely have door cameras, but just in case, I use the app I installed on my tablet to shut down any household cameras that might pick us up.
“You stay in the truck,” Chael demands, pointing at me when I go to open the door of the truck.
Chance must notice me stopping because he turns to Chael.
“I think it’s best if he comes with us,” he says. “We need him to help ID this guy, and it’s probably best to do that behind closed doors. Not out here in the open.”
A beat of silence ensues as I look between the two of them. There’s a short stare off before Chael replies, “Fine.”
My wolf flinches at how harshly Chael slams the door closed. It’s not out of fear, more so out of wanting to comfort him. My wolf doesn’t like the tension. His natural instinct, when he’s not angry, is to soothe over any trouble.
Now is not the time, I tell him silently.
The house we approach is a one-story, semi-dilapidated home. It, like the rest of the community, has seen better days.
Chael’s the one to knock on the door. A part of me wonders if his hard fist against the battered wood might break it down.
Close enough, because the door soon flies open. Chael and Chance don’t hesitate to enter.
My wolf leads me to sniff at the air. My stomach quickly sours. We scent at least one other shifter nearby, and I know that scent.
My hands tighten into fists as I follow behind Chance. I tap him on the shoulder, making him turn to look at me.
“He’s here.”
Chael gives a brief look over his shoulder before he turns his attention on the half-empty living room. The floorboards squeak and bow underneath the weight of his heavy boots.
A sudden noise from the back jars my attention. I turn to Chance to let him know, but he’s already three steps ahead, moving toward the direction of the noise. I shake my head, in awe at his honed reflexes despite his inability to hear.
“Wh-What’s going on?” a man yells out a few seconds later when it’s Chance that hauls him down and away from the window he was trying to crawl out of.
“This him?” Chance asks, looking up at me.
I peer down at the piece of garbage on the floor. I know it’s him from his scent and his voice.
I nod, unable to speak as I glare at him.
“Alton Brickwood?” Chael growls, his question coming out deep.
I see the defiance in Alton’s dark brown eyes, but Chael just used his alpha voice, which is why I’m unsurprised when he responds, “Yes, Alpha.”
The response comes out reluctantly, but even he is compelled by the natural order of the wolf shifter to respect an alpha. That tells all of us where he was in the order of his former pack.
“I’m no longer part of the Brickwood pack, though,” he continues.
Chael growls. “Because you got kicked out for selling illegal substances to your packmates, correct?”
Alton’s eyes widen as if he’s surprised that we knew this. “Th-That’s not true,” he stutters as Chael pulls him to stand.
It’s Chance who comes over and holds something up for Alton’s inspection. I glance over to see a pack of something that looks white and powdery. One sniff of the air and I recoil, immediately identifying the substance.
“They used that on us,” I blurt out, my stomach turning in disgust. The potent odor of whatever drugs are in that bag, were what they used against us.
“Are you certain?” Chael asks.
I nod, glaring at Alton.
His eyes narrow. “Who are you?”
“Christophe!” Chance yells behind me.
Before I knew what I was doing, my hands were wrapped around this son of a bitch’s throat. It’s absurd to be pissed off that he didn’t even recognize me, but that’s what sparks my anger.
Months of torture and degradation at the hands of this sick bastard and the others and he doesn’t even know who I am.
“G-Get … off …” he chokes out with my hands wrapped tightly around his throat. The fact that he can speak lets me know I’m not squeezing hard enough.
I tighten my grip.
My mind flashes with rage as I recall the days spent in that hellhole. The cries of others locked in their cells, around mine. The fact that he was a part of inflicting so much pain on others and couldn’t bother to memorize our names or faces pisses me off.
“I will fucking kill you,” I say through gritted teeth. At this point, I don’t even recognize my own voice.
Just when my mind starts to cloud over to a blackness I might not be able to escape, there’s a tap on my shoulder.
“This isn’t you,” a deep voice tells me.
While I don’t let go of Alton, my hold on his throat loosens slightly.
“We still need more information from him.” Chael comes up behind me and pulls me away from Alton. “Let him go,” he says matter-of-factly when my hold on him doesn’t fall away.
Eventually, I release him, making Alton drop to his knees, coughing and gasping for air.
Turning my back on him, I run my hand through my hair. I start for the door because I need to get out of here, but Alton’s voice stops me.
“I know who the hell you are,” he says, his voice a mix of scorn and mockery. “You’ve reunited with the brothers who turned you over to that place, huh?”
When I turn to face him, he’s staring directly at me. I stare into his eyes, my attention enraptured on what his next words will be. Because I know he’s gearing up to say something.
I’m concentrating so hard on what he’s about to say that I don’t realize his left hand is moving around to his back. Only later will that move register in my mind.
“He said you’d go crawling back to them, even after what they did to you.”
“ What they did to you. They wanted you to endure this.”
Voices, ugly memories echo in my mind.
“Dr. X knew all of this would happen. He planned for this. He knows he’s better than the likes of you,” Alton spits out. “Of all of you from that fucking pack!”
Alton screeches as Chael draws him to his feet. “What the fuck did you say about my pack?” Chael’s voice booms through the house, nearly causing the walls of the room to vibrate.
“Do you think he did this just for fun? He’s smarter than all of you. Smarter than that fucking Rufus. He was a puppet. You’ll see. He’s the future, and you freaks are nothing but the past. You’re all dead men walking.”
“Who the fuck it he?” Chael shakes Alton before tossing him against the wall.
I don’t even react when plaster and drywall debris fly into the air from the impact of Alton’s body hitting it. He groans and then slumps to the floor.
“You’ll see,” he manages to say before stuffing something into his mouth. “You all will see.”
“What the hell?” Chance barks out. He races over to Alton, snatching away whatever’s in his hand. But it’s too late.
There’s nothing left. Just an empty plastic bag. When Alton starts foaming at the mouth, Chance turns his body over, trying to force out whatever it was he just took.
“It’s too late,” I say, staring at his lifeless body. I’ve seen that same reaction inside of the prison. “It was a suicide pill.”
“Do you know what’s in it?” Chance asks.
I shake my head. “No, but I watched another one of the prisoners die in the same way. They’d dragged him out of the cell when he started foaming at the mouth and banged on the bars of our cells, making us watch as he seized and died.”
I go to grind my teeth together but can’t because my incisors have descended. The memory renews my resentment.
“They fucking laughed and then kicked his body while he died.” I almost choke on the anger rising inside of me. I will never be able to get past the cruelty of their behavior.
They showed us the death to keep us in line. It happened soon after I arrived. The one saving grace of the memory that saves me from completely losing it, is knowing that Ashley wasn’t there to witness that horror, at least.
“That fucking doctor has a personal vendetta against my pack,” Chael grounds out. Then with glowing eyes, Chael turns on me.
Before I can ask what’s happening, he has my back pressed against the wall, arm braced across my chest.
“Why the hell does he have a vendetta against my pack?” he demands through gritted teeth.
My eyes widen at the sudden shift. “What?”
He slams my back against the wall again. “What did you do? Are you in on his plot against my pack as well?”
“No.” I shake my head at the same time my heart sinks in shame. “I would n—” I break off, knowing that I can’t utter that last word. Because I have. In the past, I did work with someone to betray the Nightwolf pack.
“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” I admit to Chael. “I’m just as in the dark on all of this as both of you.”
I look over his shoulder to see Chance tugging on Chael’s arm.
“Brother …” He trails off, his mouth ceases moving, but he’s looking directly at Chael. They’re communicating through their brother bond.
Not for the first time, I wish to be a part of that bond. To be able to communicate with someone as intimately as they have always been able to.
Now, not only do they have that ability with one another, but also with their mates. A fate I’ll never have because mate bonding is just not in the Mother Moon’s destiny for me.
My wolf howls inside of my chest as I reiterate a fact of my life I already knew. I push away the memories of Ashley that come to my mind. The sound of her voice, the softness of her skin underneath my fingertips. The way she snorts whenever she laughs. Her scent.
All of it will be nothing more than a fleeting memory.
“Send me back,” I say.
A wrinkle appears between Chael’s eyebrows when he looks back at me.
“To prison. We all know that’s where I’m going anyway. Send me back now and get it over with.” A soul crushing weight falls over me as I say the words that have nothing to do with the pressure Chael’s still applying to my chest with his forearm.
“Just … send me back,” I finish.
Chael’s eyes narrow before he grunts and releases me, stepping back. He looks between me and Chance and then turns to exit the room without a word.
“Nobody’s sending you anywhere,” Chance says, looking me directly in the eye.
Not yet, I finish for him. No, we still need to track down Dr. X to get answers from him. He’s the one who’s been behind all of this, I’m starting to suspect.
Finally, I nod at Chance. “We need to finish this.”
As long as he’s still out there, he’s a threat to the Nightwolf pack and maybe wolf shifters in general.
Which means, he’s still a threat to Ashley.
That’s not something I could let my guilt rob me of. I will finish this for her.
“We need to get out of here,” Chance says.
“What about him?” I point at the dead body on the floor.
Chance nods. “I’ll handle it. You go ahead to the truck. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
I take one last glance at Alton’s body with disgust before exiting the house. Chael doesn’t say anything as I slide into the backseat of the truck, but I can feel the tension flowing off of him in waves.
Instead of saying anything, I grab for the tablet that’s still resting on the backseat. Alton gave us information about Dr. X that we didn’t know before. His personal vendetta against the Nightwolf pack.
Maybe I can use that somehow to find out who he is and exactly where he’s hiding. I think to question Chael if he knows anything about who may have a vendetta against our pack, but I hold my tongue.
Truthfully, given the Nightwolf’s history, a lot of people could have it out for us, but most of the fighting and warring the Nightwolf did was a distant memory. It occurred before Chael became alpha.
“We’re all set,” Chance says as he slips into the passenger seat.
Without a word, Chael starts up the truck and we head off for home.
By the time we reach the commune it’s dark and most of the pack is either mingling around the Chael’s house, finishing up dinner, or in their own homes, tucking the younger ones into bed.
An ache in my chest reminds me of the longing I feel to attend one of the pack’s common meals. Something I actively avoided before, but now I wish for it. More so, I wish to be able to do it with Ashley by my side.
Try as I might to let go of the longing for what will never be mine, my heart refuses to take the hint.
“Thanks,” I mumble as I climb out of the truck that’s stopped in front of my home.
I’m greeted by a smiling Mike. He waves at Chael and Chance.
“I’ll take it from here,” he says.
Chance waves before the truck pulls off.
“You have a guest,” Mike says to me with lifted eyebrows.
My heart begins to race at the same time my stomach growls.
“Good thing you’re hungry. She brought food.” He steps to the side and extends his arm as if allowing me to enter the house.
From the front, I can see there’s a light on in the kitchen.
“You’re home.” Ms. Elsie comes to stand in front of me. She looks me over, as if assessing me.
“You didn’t have—” I stop when she holds up her hand.
“We both know where this is going, right?” She raises an eyebrow, making me chuckle.
“I’ll wash my hands,” I relent. “Dinner smells great,” I say while washing my hands. “And dessert?”
“Of course. I decided to make peach cobbler with the peaches I bought and canned a few months ago.”
Her words have my stomach growling. An idea comes to mind.
“Ms. Elsie?”
“Hmm?” she responds, busy spooning beef stew into separate bowls.
“I need to ask you a favor … It’s for someone special.”