Chapter 4 #2
Mason behind the wheel, his golden features set in hard lines, his honey eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my stomach clench.
Ethan beside him, leaning forward slightly, watching me with those cold, calculating eyes.
Even from this distance, I could see the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.
The look of a chess player who'd just cornered his opponent's king.
They'd known. They'd known I would run, known which direction I'd choose, known exactly how to cut me off. This wasn't a chase.
It was a trap within a trap.
"No," I breathed, my voice barely a whisper in the silent car. "No, no, no—"
I threw the car into reverse, my foot slamming against the gas before my brain fully processed what I was doing.
The tires shrieked. The car lurched backward.
I cranked the wheel, trying to turn around on the narrow road, trying to find another way out.
I'd barely made it halfway through the turn when headlights flared in my rearview mirror.
The other SUV. Caleb and Leo.
They'd been following after all. Just hanging back. Waiting for their brothers to spring the trap.
I was boxed in.
Trapped.
For a long, horrible moment, I just sat there.
Engine idling. Hands shaking on the wheel.
Heart pounding so hard I could hear it over the rumble of the motor.
The SUVs crept closer from both directions, moving slowly now, inexorably.
Like predators who knew their prey had nowhere left to go.
Like wolves circling a wounded deer, patient and hungry, savoring the moment before the kill.
Think, I screamed at myself. THINK.
I scanned my surroundings with desperate eyes.
The drop-off to my right was too steep, a sheer cliff face that fell away into darkness.
I'd never survive the fall, and even if I did, I'd be broken and bleeding at the bottom of a ravine with no way to call for help.
The mountain wall to my left was solid rock, ancient granite that had been there for millennia and would be there for millennia more.
The road ahead and behind was blocked by men who had been planning this moment for three years.
But there—between Mason's SUV and the tree line—a gap. Narrow, barely wide enough for the rental car, choked with underbrush and fallen branches. If I timed it right, if I was fast enough, if the car could handle the rough terrain—
It was stupid. It was reckless. It would probably get me killed.
I gunned the engine anyway. The car shot forward, engine screaming in protest. I wrenched the wheel to the right, aiming for that tiny gap between metal and wood. Through my window, I caught a glimpse of Mason's face—his eyes going wide, his mouth opening to shout something—
Then I was through.
Branches scraped against the windows like skeletal fingers, filling the car with a shriek of metal on wood.
The undercarriage groaned as I bounced over rocks and roots, the whole vehicle shuddering with each impact.
Something cracked beneath me—a piece of the frame, maybe, or the exhaust pipe—but I didn't stop.
I burst through the tree line onto the road beyond, tires squealing as they found asphalt again.
Yes. YES.
I'd made it. I'd actually made it. The road stretched out ahead of me, empty and clear, winding down the mountain toward—
The road ended. Not gradually. Not with warning signs or barriers or any indication that anything was wrong.
It just stopped, the asphalt giving way to a wall of orange construction cones arranged in a perfect line across both lanes.
And behind them, parked sideways across the road like a final barrier, sat a massive construction truck.
ROAD CLOSED, announced a bright orange sign, the letters reflective and cheerful in my headlights.
I slammed on the brakes so hard the seatbelt cut into my chest, leaving a line of fire across my collarbone.
The car skidded, spun, came to a stop mere feet from the truck's massive chrome grill.
Close enough that I could see my own terrified reflection in the polished metal.
Close enough that I could read the logo on the door: SUMMIT CONSTRUCTION LLC.
For a moment, I just stared. The cones were too new.
Too perfectly placed, arranged with military precision in a line that hadn't been disturbed by weather or wildlife or time.
The truck's engine was still running, a low rumble that vibrated through the ground, like someone had parked it there just moments ago.
This wasn't real construction.
This wasn't a real road closure. This was another trap. Another piece of the elaborate snare they'd built around me, cutting off every avenue of escape, herding me exactly where they wanted me to go.
They'd planned for everything. Known I would run, known which way I'd turn, known exactly which roads I'd take.
They'd probably been tracking me since the moment I got in the car—hell, they'd probably let me get in the car, let me think I was escaping, just so they could crush that hope when they finally caught me.
The realization should have broken me.
Instead, it made me angry.
Fuck them. Fuck their traps and their plans and their goddamn construction trucks. Fuck all four of them and their obsessive, possessive, controlling—
My door was ripped open.
I screamed, twisting toward the sound, throwing a punch at whoever was reaching for me.
My fist connected with something solid—a chest, maybe, or a shoulder—but it was like punching a wall.
The impact jarred up my arm, rattling my teeth, doing absolutely nothing to stop the hands that closed around my wrists.
"Easy, little fox." Caleb's voice, rough as gravel and dark as sin. "Don't hurt yourself."
"Let me go!"
He pulled me from the car like I weighed nothing, hauling me out into the cold mountain air despite my kicks and scratches and increasingly creative profanity.
My sneakers scraped against asphalt. My shoulders screamed in protest as I tried to wrench free of his grip.
My lungs burned with the effort of fighting and screaming at the same time.
None of it mattered. Caleb was six-foot-four and two hundred and forty pounds of solid muscle, and I was a hundred and twenty pounds of exhausted, heat-addled Omega.
I might as well have been fighting a mountain.
He spun me around, my back hitting his chest hard enough to knock the wind out of me.
His arms wrapped around my torso, pinning my arms to my sides, trapping me against a wall of heat and muscle and overwhelming Alpha scent.
Pine and woodsmoke and bitter winter cold.
My Omega keened at the contact, flooding my system with warmth and want and shameful, desperate need. I felt myself going soft against him, my body trying to melt into his embrace, my head trying to tip back against his shoulder in submission.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood and kept fighting.
"Let me go," I snarled, kicking backward at his shins. "Let me go, you fucking psychopath, I'll kill you, I'll—"
"Shh." His arms tightened, not hurting but immovable, and his lips brushed against my ear. "You're okay. You're safe. Stop fighting."
"I'm not safe! I'm—"
"You're ours." The word rumbled through his chest and into my spine, sending shivers cascading down my body. "And we protect what's ours. Even from herself."
The other SUV had pulled up now, its headlights washing over us in blinding white. Doors opened and closed. Footsteps crunched on asphalt. And then they were there—all of them—surrounding me in a circle of Alpha presence that made my knees want to buckle.
Mason approached first, his golden features tight with an emotion I couldn't name. Concern, maybe. Or anger. Or some complicated mixture of both that didn't have a word.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes scanning me for injuries, for blood, for any sign of damage.
I laughed. The sound came out wild, hysterical, edged with something that might have been tears. "Am I hurt? You chased me off a cliff, you—"
"You chased yourself off a cliff." That was Ethan, circling around to stand at Mason's shoulder. His voice was calm, clinical, completely devoid of the panic I could see in his eyes. "We had contingencies in place to stop you safely. You were never in any real danger."
"Contingencies." I spat the word like a curse. "You mean the fake construction site? The truck you parked in the middle of the road? The—what, did you have someone waiting at every possible exit?"
"Yes." He said it simply, without shame, like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. "We've been planning this for three years, Ava. Did you really think we'd leave anything to chance?"
The fight went out of me.
Not all at once, but in a slow, horrible drain, like water swirling down a bathtub.
Three years. They'd been planning this for three years.
Every road I could have taken, every direction I could have run, every possible escape route, they'd thought of all of it.
Prepared for all of it. Built a trap so elaborate and so complete that I'd never had a chance at all.
I sagged in Caleb's arms, my legs giving out beneath me. He caught me easily, shifting his grip to support my weight, and I hated how good it felt. Hated how right. Hated the way my body relaxed into his hold like it had been waiting for this moment my entire life.
"I won't." My voice came out small. Broken. Nothing like the fierce defiance I'd been projecting moments ago. "Whatever you're planning. I won't cooperate. I won't just—"
"Won't just what?" Leo stepped forward, moving into my line of sight for the first time. His gray eyes were soft in the headlights, his usual smirk replaced by something gentler. Something that almost looked like sympathy. "Won't surrender? Won't submit? Won't beg us to—"
"Leo." Mason's voice cut through like a blade, sharp with warning. "Not now."
Leo's mouth snapped shut, but his eyes stayed on me. Hungry and patient and absolutely certain.
"Take her back to the cabin," Mason continued, his gaze shifting to Caleb. "I'll deal with the car and the truck. We need to be gone before anyone comes looking."
"No one's coming," Ethan said. "The road's been closed since yesterday. No traffic for miles."
"I don't care. I want this cleaned up. No evidence. No trace." Mason's jaw tightened, and for just a moment, I saw something crack in his controlled facade. Something raw and desperate and terrifying. "She's not getting another chance to run."
I opened my mouth to argue—to scream, to curse, to do something—but before I could make a sound, I felt a sharp pinch in my upper arm. I looked down. Ethan stood beside me, a syringe in his hand, his thumb pressing down on the plunger with clinical precision.
"No—" I thrashed in Caleb's grip, suddenly wild with panic. "No, don't, please, I'll be good, I won't run again, just don't—"
"Shh." Caleb's arms tightened around me, holding me still despite my struggles. His lips pressed against my temple, gentle and terrible all at once. "It's okay, little fox. It's just something to help you relax. You'll feel better when you wake up."
"Please." I was crying now, I realized. Tears streaming down my cheeks, my voice cracking and breaking on every word. All my rage, all my defiance, dissolved into raw, naked terror. "Please, Caleb, don't do this. Just let me go. I'll disappear. You'll never see me again. I promise, I promise—"
"I know you'd disappear." Mason appeared in front of me, his golden features swimming in my tear-blurred vision. His hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away my tears with devastating gentleness. "That's why I can't let you go, Red. That's why I'll never let you go."
The sedative was already working. I could feel it spreading through my veins like warm honey, turning my muscles to liquid, clouding my thoughts with cotton wool. My struggles weakened. My words slurred. The world went soft and fuzzy at the edges.
"H-hate you," I managed, but it came out barely a whisper. "Hate... all of you..."
"I know." Mason leaned down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. His lips were warm and soft, and I hated how good they felt. Hated how safe. "Sleep now, Ava. When you wake up, you'll be home. And everything will be different."
I wanted to tell him I'd never stop fighting. Wanted to tell him I'd find another way to escape, that I'd make them regret ever coming after me, that I'd burn down his precious cabin with all four of them inside if that's what it took.
My mouth wouldn't cooperate. My eyes were sliding shut, too heavy to keep open.
My body was sinking into Caleb's arms, surrendering to the warmth and the scent and the overwhelming pull of unconsciousness.
The last thing I saw was Mason's face, golden and beautiful and terrible, watching me with an expression of absolute devotion.
Then the darkness swallowed me whole.