Let’s Wrap this Shit Up
Let’s Wrap this Shit Up
Knox
The moment Skyla nods, telling me that fucker is headed this way, something in me clicks.
That fucker hurt what’s mine. He abused Skyla—physically, mentally, emotionally—and now I’m going to make him fucking pay.
The first thing I do is call Robert back. Skyla doesn’t want me to—she’s shaking her head, eyes wide, whispering that she doesn’t want to scare them—but that piece of shit threatened her mother, and her mates deserve to know.
Robert answers on the second ring.
I tell them everything—every threat, every word—and they go silent. Not shocked, not confused. Quiet in the way men get when they’re ready to do something about it.
Then I ask the question that’s been burning through me since Skyla said Brayden’s name. “Do you still have a location tracker on Phil’s phone?”
A pause. Then Robert says, “Yeah. We do.” The sound of typing fills the line. A moment later, his breath hitches. “He’s not far from you guys.”
“How close?” I ask.
“About two hours,” Phil says grimly. “But he seems to be moving pretty fast. He’ll probably get there sooner.”
I thank them, promise to keep them updated, and hang up before Skyla can argue.
The second the phone hits the counter, we all get to work.
Tadeo and Dakota disappear into the garage for weapons—weights, a crowbar, anything heavy that can cause some real damage—while Alex checks the locks on all the windows.
“Don’t lock the kitchen window,” I say. “He might not even try the doors.”
Alex nods, then walks off.
I keep Skyla close, refusing to let her leave my line of sight for even a second.
She’s tense beside me, her pulse hammering so loud I can practically hear it. “Why aren’t we leaving?” she finally asks, voice shaking with fear. “He’s still an hour away. Why don’t we just go?”
Alex’s grin flashes instantly, wide and sharp. “Go where, sweetheart? Our vacation home in the vineyard?”
“Ooh! Maybe the beach,” Dakota adds, winking as he hauls a large piece of plywood toward the back door.
Skyla’s mouth falls open. “How—” she shakes her head, disbelief cutting through her fear. “How can you joke right now? This is serious.”
I can’t help the smile tugging at my mouth. “Because we’re not that kind of pack,” I say as I tape a string of old Christmas bells to the edge of the back sliding glass door. “Sit on the couch for me, gorgeous.”
But Sky doesn’t move. She stares back, frozen between shock and fury. “What does that even mean?”
“It means we don’t run,” Alex answers for me. The alpha is rolling his shoulders like he’s been waiting for an excuse to throw a punch. His eyes are alight with a wild kind of joy that only comes out when there’s a fight brewing. “Don’t worry, Sky. We won’t let him hurt you.”
Dakota nods, practically vibrating with energy, and pulls a power drill out of his hoodie’s front pocket. “Damn straight,” he says as he inserts the drill bit. “That asshole won’t come within a hundred feet of you.”
Tadeo’s the only one who isn’t smiling. He stands near the kitchen, unfolding a large tarp. “Let’s not underestimate him,” he says quietly, his eyes flickering to Skyla. “He’s dangerous.”
I meet Tadeo’s eyes, keeping my voice even. “We’ve got this,” I tell him, but it’s mostly for Skyla’s sake.
Our little omega finally shifts nervously as she sits at the end of the couch. She’s wrapped in her favorite blanket, looking small and shaken in the middle of our living room. Her heartbeat is still racing, though, her thick emotions rolling around in our bond.
I’d love to properly tend to her right now, pull every drop of that fear out of her sweet body, but we don’t have time.
“Sky?” I crouch down in front of her, resting my elbows on my knees until I’m eye level. “I need to ask you something,” my voice comes out low and calm. “I don’t want it to scare you, okay?”
Her gaze flicks to mine, wary and confused. “Okay?”
“How many alphas were in your old pack?”
Her brow furrows. “What?”
“Besides Brayden,” I clarify, keeping my tone as soft as I can. “How many alphas were in your old pack?”
Skyla blinks, clearly thrown by the question.
Behind me, the shrill buzz of a drill cuts through the air. Dakota braces a sheet of plywood upright, his shoulders straining as Tadeo drives screws into the frame. The sound vibrates through the room.
“Sky?”
Her gaze rips away from the source of the drilling.
“How many?” I repeat.
“One,” she says slowly. “There was one other alpha—his name was Martin. Why?”
I nod once, processing that, keeping my face neutral. “Need to know what we’re dealing with.”
Tadeo pauses to wipe sweat from his brow, muttering something under his breath before reaching for another screw. The rhythmic whirr-click of the drill fills the silence that follows, grounding me.
Skyla frowns, her confusion deepening. “What do you mean?”
“I want to make sure I’ve got a good handle on how many people Brayden might be bringing with him,” I say, keeping my voice even. “If Martin’s still loyal to him, that changes things.”
The drill stops again. Dakota glances over his shoulder, his tone light even as his jaw flexes. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
Her eyes widen. “You think Martin is coming here too?”
I straighten slowly, cupping her cheek with my hand. “I don’t know, sweetheart,” I admit. “I want to be prepared.”
Behind me, Alex lets out a low, excited growl that sounds too damn eager.
“Then we’ll make it a party.” He curls his hands around a metal coffee can, then tosses the contents toward the front door.
Nails, washers, paperclips, and pennies bounce and roll, covering the floor and rolling into the doorframe.
“What…” Skyla’s mouth falls open as her wide eyes dart all over the living room.
Tadeo and Dakota shift, the metallic scrape of tools cutting through the air as they lay their sheet of plywood flat against the living room floor. The pointed tips of the screws jut upward like jagged little teeth.
“Hold it steady,” Tadeo mutters, dropping to a crouch. The drill whirs to life, biting through the wood as he drives more screws down, securing the plywood in place.
Dakota grins, sweat streaking his temple as he tries to lift the edge of the board. “This ain't coming up.” He laughs. “If he tries to run out the back, he’ll get a foot full of metal.”
“The blood trail will make it very easy to track him.” Alex moves to the entryway to the kitchen, raises an empty beer bottle over his head, then hurls it at the floor, letting it crash and shatter.
He surveys the damage, his gaze sweeping the room, restless.
He pushes a hand through his hair and lets out a low, dissatisfied noise. “Wish we had a chainsaw.”
Tadeo glances up at him, one brow raised. “For what? The décor?”
“For the intimidation factor,” Alex says with a smirk, already heading toward the hall closet. “You can’t tell me the sound of a revving chainsaw wouldn’t make a psycho alpha think twice.”
Dakota barks a laugh, leaning back on his heels. “I mean, he’s got a point.”
Skyla stares at them like we’ve all lost our minds, her hands gripping the edge of the couch so tight her knuckles have gone white.
The drill whirs again, and Sky’s breath comes faster, sharp little inhales that make her shoulders tremble.
I can feel her frustration flood through the bond—hot, wild, and raw—before she even opens her mouth.
“You don’t understand!” she bursts out, voice cracking as the blanket falls off her shoulders, puddling onto the floor.
The room stills. The sound of the drill dies mid-whirr as Tadeo and Dakota both freeze, glancing toward her.
The wave of emotion crashes through our bond again—fear, anger, hopelessness all tangled together—and it hits me square in the chest.
Sky’s eyes shine, tears brimming as she glares at all of us like she can’t believe what she’s seeing.
“You have no idea what kind of alpha Brayden is.” She swallows hard, voice shaking but fierce.
“He’s not some asshole you can just out muscle.
He’s powerful. He’s trained. He’s violent.
” Her hands ball into fists against her sides, knuckles pale.
“You think a couple of boards and some screws are going to stop him?” She points at the back door.
“What the hell are jingle bells duct taped to the dang door gonna do?”
The corner of Alex’s mouth quirks up, but he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry.” Skyla looks down, her tone softening, guilt slipping through the edges of her voice. “I don’t mean to be mean, I just…” She hesitates, then blurts, “What’s an accountant, two movers, and a former health store employee going to do against a trained fighter?”
Tadeo straightens from the floor, drill hanging limp at his side. He blinks once, then looks at me.
Dakota grins like he’s about to say something to try to lighten the mood, but he must think better of it, because his smile fades as he presses his lips into a firm line.
“We do know what kind of alpha he is,” I tell Skyla, voice low but firm. “And that’s why we’re not running.”
“But—" Her breathing comes in shallow bursts, shoulders tight, eyes glossy with panic. “You don’t understand—” Her chin quivers. Her voice cracks, small and trembling. “I just don’t understand why he hates me so much.”
Her words hit like a punch to the chest.
Skyla’s eyes are shining, her hands twisting in the hem of her shirt as she keeps talking, faster now, like the words are tumbling out before she can stop them.
“He hated me being in his house. He hated me being his mate. And now he hates that I’m with another pack.
I don’t—” Her voice breaks, and a tear slips down her cheek. “I don’t understand what I did wrong.”
I take a slow breath through my nose, trying to stay calm.
“Hey,” I say softly, falling to my knees in front of her. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to, all gravel and barely leashed fury. “You existed. That’s all it takes for men like him.”
Her lower lip trembles. “But—”
“No.” I shake my head once. “He hated you because you made him feel small. Because you were something he couldn’t control.”
For a moment, she stares at me, wide-eyed and silent. Then her shoulders cave a little, her breath coming out in a soft, broken sound that makes my heart twist.
Behind me, Alex mutters something sharp under his breath—too low to catch but heavy with anger. Dakota stops moving altogether. Even Tadeo’s expression cracks, something raw flickering across his face.
“He’s not going to hurt you again,” I promise quietly. “Not while I’m breathing.”
Skyla wipes at her cheeks, but the tears keep coming. “I’m just so sick of it,” she says, voice trembling. “His stupid, ugly, horrible hatred.” Her words shake at the edges—exhausted and raw. “I just want him gone. I don’t want to feel him anymore.”
For a second, no one speaks. The air feels thick enough to choke on.
Then Tadeo’s quiet voice breaks through. “It’s not ugly,” he says softly.
Skyla blinks, confused as she turns toward him.
He meets her gaze, his dark brown eyes filled with love. “If he wasn’t such a hateful, miserable bastard,” Tadeo continues, “you wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t have you.” He shrugs, almost sheepish. “So maybe…in a way, it’s kind of beautiful.”
His words hang there—overly sentimental but somehow perfect. My hopeless romantic.
Skyla stares at him like she doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. A small, wet sound escapes her—a mix of both. “I guess you’re right,” she whispers.
Tadeo’s mouth twists as he glances away.
Our omega gives the room a sweeping look, taking in the plywood, the scattered nails and broken glass. “What are you going to do to him?” she asks as the fear in our bond coils tighter.
I take a slow breath and meet her eyes. “Whatever it takes,” I say. My voice is quiet, but it cuts through the room anyway.
Her throat bobs as she swallows hard. “Are you going to hurt him?”
I don’t lie, but I don’t want to make Skyla feel worse.
“Here’s the thing, little one.” I rest my hands on her knees. “As long as he still has a bond with you, he can find you. He can feel you. He can use that to track you down, to get in your head, to keep hurting you.”
“I know,” she whispers, as a few fresh tears slip down her cheeks.
I swallow hard, feeling my pulse thunder behind my ribs.
“The fact is, I’m not letting that bastard terrorize you anymore.
You’re my fucking omega.” I let my voice drop, letting her know that I mean it.
“You belong to me and my pack. And we won’t let that motherfucker touch a single hair on your head. ”
Skyla swallows, eyes darting between all of us. “You can’t just—”
“Yes,” I cut in quietly, meeting her gaze head-on. “I can. And I will.”
The words vibrate in my chest, a growl edging underneath. “Because the minute you joined my pack, he made this a fucking war.”