Chapter 12
Wrecker
The war room at Iron Valor’s clubhouse always stank of old sweat and machine oil, even after Juliet went on one of her cleaning frenzies.
It was after hours, the kind of night that crept in through the cinderblock, making the skin between your fingers go numb.
The battered conference table had been in service since before I patched in.
It was held together by more blood than screws.
Bronc stood at the head, sleeves rolled up, a legal pad under his elbow and a marker in his hand.
He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and the stubble made him look more tired than tough.
We were down to business. Arsenal and Doc flanked the Alpha, both running on fumes and black coffee.
Gunner was missing, but he’d been on patrol for two days straight, so he’d turn up at some point.
I took my seat at the far end, fingers drumming the lacquered pine.
Papa sat in his usual spot nursing a cup of coffee.
The lights flickered overhead, a strobe that turned every movement into a threat.
“First order,” Bronc said, voice gravel. “Toy run goes Christmas Day. Route’s clear except for the Dairyville bypass. Arsenal, you got the east side?”
Arsenal grunted affirmative, eyes never leaving the tactical display mapped on the far wall. The black pinhead showed every street in our territory. The bypass blinked yellow. “I’ll run the advance with Papa,” he said. “Two units, unmarked. If Greenbriar shows, we’ll cut ‘em at the rail crossing.”
Doc’s knuckles rapped the tabletop in that dry, precise way he had. “Medical’s tight. I restocked the kits myself. Juliet’s team is running the warming tent, but there’s some kind of norovirus at the elementary, so I doubled gloves and brought in bleach wipes. No cross-contamination this year.”
“We got toy collection going strong.” Big Papa’s face lit up. He loved this shit. “We are full to overflowing. More toys this year than ever.”
Bronc scratched at his beard. “Basement of the compound gonna accommodate?”
Papa was all smiles. “We’ll have to take a closer look. Every underprivileged kid in Dairyville is gonna have toys out their wazzoos this year.”
We all laughed at that. It was nice that something good was happening in our world for once.
Bronc nodded, made a note. “Good. Check the Civic Center for staging if necessary. Let’s play it by ear. I’d prefer to keep it in the compound with all the nonsense going on, but we’ll roll with the punches. Talk to Ms. Pearl and Juliet to help coordinate.”
His eyes turned to me. “Speaking of nonsense. Wrecker, what’s happening with the Greenbriar problem?”
That was my cue. I stood. Every other eye at the table followed, some out of habit, some out of suspicion.
“Greenbriar thinks they’ve got it made,” I said. “They’re going to get more than they bargained for. I’ve got Parker set up to get micro-cameras and mics all over their compound.”
Arsenal’s lip curled. “You trust her?”
I didn’t blink. “I wouldn’t have brought her in and given her the equipment if I didn’t.”
He didn’t buy it. “You sure she’s not still running a side op for her brother?”
I could feel my hands clench. “There’s nothing in it for her to be doing anything for her brother. He fucking sold her out. She only wants to be sure he comes out of this alive, like any good sister would. I told her we’d pull him out when the time came. He’ll be dealt with then.”
The room went cold for a second, then Big Papa cleared his throat, low and gentle. “If it’s a trap, we got a contingency?”
“Have y’all heard a goddamn word I’ve said?” I was on a razor’s edge. “I built the program she’s running. If she didn’t have it, she’d be dead. Silas would end her. Without Iron Valor, she’s dead. What trap do you think she’s running?”
“She’s a fucking traitor,” Arsenal snarled. “I say she takes one step outa line, we end her.”
My wolf surged up, hotter than blood. I was across the table before I knew it. Arsenal rose to meet me, all wiry anger and sharpened teeth. We’d fought before. He had scars on his back to prove it.
Bronc’s voice dropped two octaves, that rare Alpha edge slicing through both of us. “Enough.”
We froze. I could feel the veins in my neck pulsing, the animal in me howling for release. But Bronc had command. Always did.
“Sit down,” he growled, to both of us.
We did. My hands shook. Arsenal wiped a fleck of spit from his chin.
Bronc eyed us like we were wayward kids, then cleared his throat. “Here’s what you all need to know, so we don’t kill each other before the real enemy does.”
He waited for silence. You could hear the pipes ticking in the wall.
“Parker’s not just some wayward pack member,” he said. “She’s Wrecker’s mate.”
The words hit like a car crash. Arsenal’s jaw popped. Doc’s pen rolled off the legal pad and clattered to the floor. Even Big Papa leaned forward, one elbow on the table, a slow smile cracking his scarred face.
I wanted to tear Bronc’s throat out. This was my secret, my business. Not for the table.
“We respect mate bonds. Period.”
He continued. “This is not up for debate. If anyone has a problem with it, you talk to me.” He let his eyes settle on Papa, then Arsenal, then Doc, then me. “Otherwise, we follow the plan.”
Big Papa’s voice was the first to break the spell. “Mates are a gift,” he said, his preacher’s cadence cutting through the tension. “Even when they come wrapped in trouble. Even an ugly bastard like me has hopes that someday…” His voice filled with longing, trailed off.
There was a pause, then the table relaxed. Just a little. Arsenal flexed his hands, Doc scribbled something on his pad, and the world didn’t end. Not right then, anyway.
Bronc finished the briefing, the rest of it a blur. The routes, the signals, the fallback codes. It all faded into a white-noise hum. I was already thinking about Parker, about the enemy territory she was walking into, about the way she’d smiled when I showed her how to activate the micro-cams.
When the meeting broke, Bronc caught my arm, squeezed once.
“She’ll be fine,” he said, low. “If not, I’ll burn Greenbriar myself.”
I nodded. “If she doesn’t come back, there won’t be enough left for you to burn.”
He laughed, the old scars around his mouth going white. “That’s my wolf.”
Arsenal passed me on the way out, gave me a look like he wanted to say something. Maybe sorry, maybe fuck you. Hard to tell with him.
Big Papa lingered by the door, massive arms hanging casually by his sides. “You got your work cut out, brother,” he said. “But you don’t have to carry it alone.”
I grunted, but it wasn’t a dismissal. The youngest of us had a way of getting through the armor. Always did. He was the definition of a good man.
I left the war room, the cold following me out. The compound was dead quiet; the moon scraping the ground. I felt the wolf in my chest, pacing, ready to fight. Ready to kill. It was definitely time to let him out to run.
But mostly, I thought about the woman who’d turned my world upside down, headed into the heart of the enemy.
If anything happened to her, I’d end the world for it.
Dusk hit the plain like a bullet, and the wind carried the day’s cold straight through the skin. I parked my truck in Parker’s driveway and sat for several minutes. Her porch light was on, just a 40-watt bulb, but it burned through the blackout curtains in her front room like a warning flare.
I finally made my way to the door, knocked twice, and didn’t wait for an answer.
Inside, her house smelled like dryer sheets and lavender.
I hadn’t made it two steps before a little bundle of fur came tearing down the hall and right into my arms. She was running behind him, trying to pull a turtleneck sweater over her head.
The hem was bunched at her chin, arms stuck overhead like a prisoner mid-surrender.
I watched her wiggle free; pink and brunette bunches of hair fluffing out as if freed from prison as the neckline finally made it over her head.
I tucked the dog under my arm like a football, and he squirmed as I walked up to her to pull on the collar of her top so I could see the love bites I’d left on her shoulder and collarbone.
My wolf growled under my ribs with satisfaction.
The bruises had faded, and while they weren’t claiming bites; they were mine.
The turtleneck was high enough to hide the marks. She checked herself in the mirror.
“Let’s just hope he doesn’t notice any of these little bruises or hickies,” I said, my voice rougher than I meant.
She looked up at me, slightly panicked. “Shit. Do you think he’ll notice them?”
I dropped Rocket onto the sofa and drank in her scent. “I doubt he’ll be able to see them if you keep your hoodie zipped.” I told her as I nuzzled her neck. I was careful to keep my body off of hers. “I don’t want to put my scent anywhere on you.”
She stopped, then let her hands fall. “Damn it. That’s right. I almost forgot. I’d like to have your lips on me. Save it for later?” She gave me a look that told me she was determined to get this done and come back to me.
I stepped into the hall and leaned against the frame. “You ready?” I asked, but what I meant was, Are you scared?
“Yeah. Let’s go over it again, just in case I choke.”
We moved to the kitchen. She grabbed her bag and pulled out the micro-cams. How should I carry these?
I told her to just drop them in the easy-open case in her inside jacket pocket. She’d told me they’d never searched her. I just hoped that held true.
I picked up a micro-cam, turned it in my hand. “You remember the placement?”
“Five points,” she said, voice flat. “One on the bookshelf, one on the edge of the desk, one on the corner of the credenza and his laptop, and one on the thermostat. I’ll activate them with a touch. Three seconds, max.”
She seemed confident. But getting the Trojan loaded was the most dangerous task.
“While you’re showing him the dummy accounts that look like the drain on Iron Valor funds are on schedule, you’ll need to load the Trojan.
It’s a risk since you have to do it on his laptop, but as long as you’re casual about it and seem to be proud of the work you did, you can sell it. ”
“I got it.” She gave her bravest smile.
I nodded, set the cam back in the tray. “If it goes sideways, you bail. Don’t look back.”
She gave a dry laugh. “I’m not a hero, Eli. If it gets ugly, I’m gone.”
“You say that,” I said, “but you like the game too much.”
She looked up at me, blue eyes shining. “I like the game, but I like breathing more.”
I couldn’t argue. I took the burner phone and dialed the test line, held it up to my ear while it rang. On the fourth ring, a recording of Doc’s voice answered: “Code green. All clear. Next check at twenty hundred.” I killed the call.
“Let’s run it again,” I said.
She rolled her eyes but did it anyway, picking up each micro-cam and palming it, then miming the touch against the wood of the kitchen table. The movements were delicate, precise. She could have been a surgeon, if she hadn’t ended up a hacker.
I caught her wrist when she went for the last cam. My thumb and forefinger circled her bones easy. “You ever think about just running?” I asked.
Her mouth twisted. “All the time. But I suck at hiding, and I’m not good company for myself. If I left, I’d just end up in a place like this, making trouble for a new set of psychos.”
I let go of her wrist, but not her gaze. “You’re not trouble.”
She snorted, but her cheeks went pink. “Liar.”
Rocket stood up with his paws on her lap. She talked to that dog like he was a person.
“I’m nothing but trouble, isn’t that right, boy? Yes, it is. Yes, it is.” She kissed his head. Then she looked up at me; those clear blue eyes were glossy with unshed tears.
“If I don’t come back, Eli, please take him. Don’t let him wind up back by a dumpster.”
I wrapped her in my arms. “You are coming back to him and to me.” I kissed her forehead.
We finished the run-through. She pocketed the cams and slid the thumb drive into her sock, the way girls used to hide cigarettes in high school. I checked the clock on the stove. Five minutes until she had to leave.
I leaned against the fridge, watched her stare at the coffee pot like she could will it to brew faster. The silence sat between us, heavy and tight.
“You sure you want to do this?” I asked one more time.
She looked at me, then past me, like she could see the whole mess laid out in advance. “I have to,” she said. “There’s no other way out.”
I walked over, caught her chin in my hand, forced her to look at me. “You’re not going to die.”
“Promise?” she said, the word almost a joke.
“Promise,” I said, and it was as close to a prayer as I’d ever gotten.
She stood, tucked her hair behind her ear on the unshaved side, then zipped up the collar to her chin. “You gonna walk me out?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Can’t let you get mugged in your driveway.”
She turned and looked at that pup. “You take care of the big guy, okay, Rocket? He needs all the help he can get.” I swear that little dog winked at her.
Outside, the air had a winter chill. The sky was black already, clouds edged with orange from the city to the east. We stood on the porch, side by side, the silence familiar. She jangled her car keys, then looked up at me. “If I’m not back by midnight—”
“I’ll come for you,” I said.
She grinned. “I know. That’s what scares me.”
She made it to the end of the walk, then turned. “Hey, Eli?”
“Yeah?”
“Keep your eyes on me tonight, okay?”
I nodded. “Hey, Parker?” She stopped before shutting her car door. “Come to my house when you’re done. I’ll have the dog with me.”
She slid into her car, started it, and pulled away with no hesitation. I stood in the yard, hands in my pockets, watching her taillights disappear into the dark.
“I love you, little bird.”
The wind cut through the seams in my jacket. I didn’t shiver. I didn’t blink.
She was driving straight into hell, and I had to trust her to come back in one piece.
If she didn’t, I’d tear the world apart to find her.