Chapter 44 Evidence
A few days later Jackson went hunting in his father’s office.
I sat in a rented car just outside pack territory with my laptop balanced on my thighs and an earpiece in place. The windows were cracked just enough for air. My stomach stayed in knots the entire time, every minute stretching longer than it should have.
Then Jackson’s voice came through, low and steady.
“I’m in.”
“Copy,” I murmured, fingers tight on the edge of the laptop.
I heard the soft click of the lock, then the quiet sound of his footsteps as he moved deeper into the office.
“Inserting the USB now.”
The drive was one of Brian’s. Something his security firm had developed under the table and never put on any official record. The second it connected, the program went to work immediately, silently copying everything while Jackson continued through the room.
“I’m about to install cameras one and three,” he said. “Let me know if the angles work.”
The feeds flickered to life on my screen a few seconds later. One covered the hallway entry. The other framed the desk and the main door.
“Camera one and three are good,” I said. “No adjustments needed.”
“I’ll place camera two near the fireplace for the opposite angle.”
The third feed came up clean and wide. “Perfect.”
There was a short pause, then the faint metallic sounds of tools.
“Safe next,” Jackson said quietly.
My stomach tightened. “You’re good?”
“Yeah,” he answered. “Brian’s override worked. It’s open.”
The override was another one of Brian’s off-book tools, the kind of thing that was never supposed to leave his firm’s private lab. I held my breath as I heard the safe door open, followed by the soft rustle of paper.
“There’s a notebook,” he said. “Photographing every page.”
“Fast as you can.”
More paper shifting. “Done. Putting it back exactly as I found it.”
I checked the time on my screen. “Extraction. Pack rotation starts in three minutes. Grab the USB and move.”
“On it.”
A beat of silence stretched.
Then his voice came back, low and steady.
“I’m out.”
Ten minutes later, the relief that hit me when I saw his SUV pull up beside the rental car was almost dizzying. He got out, pulled the earpiece from his ear, and leaned through my open window. His mouth found mine in a hard, grounding kiss.
I searched his face. “No problems?”
“Clean,” he answered, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “He has no idea that we’re in his house now.” He pulled back slightly, eyes dark with satisfaction. “Let’s drop the rental and head home. Time to see what we got.”
Later that night we sat together at the desk, the laptop screen casting a cold glow across the mostly empty apartment.
Jackson had barely spoken since we started going through the files.
I stayed close, one hand resting on his thigh, offering what little comfort I could through touch and the steady pulse of the bond.
Folder after folder painted a damning picture.
Thomas had been systematically draining the pack for years. Embezzlement. Falsified records. Pack funds quietly funneled into private accounts and projects that only benefited him and a handful of loyalists. He had handed pack-owned businesses and rental properties to his inner circle for free.
While that was happening, the rest of the pack was left to rot. The communal garden was dying. The school and daycare had leaking roofs and outdated wiring. Members who lost their jobs or fell ill were still forced to hand over thirty percent of their income and received nothing in return.
“He’s been robbing them blind,” Jackson muttered, voice low and furious. “The pack’s falling apart and he doesn’t give a shit.”
I scrolled further. “It gets worse. He’s taking a cut from drug sales in town.”
Then I clicked on another folder. The moment the images loaded, Jackson went rigid beside me.
Children. Young. Terrified. Subjected to horrors I couldn’t stomach for more than a second. Bile rose hard in my throat. I snapped the laptop shut, but it was already too late. The images were burned behind my eyelids.
“Jackson—”
He stood up so fast the chair scraped loudly against the floor.
He paced away from the desk, hands clenched at his sides, breathing hard.
I followed, stepping in front of him and wrapping my arms around his waist. The second I touched him, he buried his face in my neck, gripping me like I was the only solid thing left.
“I knew he was a monster,” he said, voice muffled against my skin. “What he did to you… But this…”
His grip tightened. “How the fuck does someone do that?”
I didn’t answer right away. There wasn’t a clean answer. My hand moved slowly through his hair, steady and grounding. “No one ever stopped him.”
His breath hitched. “I should have seen it.”
“You weren’t supposed to,” I said, pulling back just enough to look at him. “That’s how he kept control.”
We stayed like that for a long moment, his weight leaning into me, until his breathing evened out. When he finally pulled back, his eyes were still dark but focused.
He took my hand and led me back to the chair, then pulled me into his lap like he needed me close. Only then did he reach for his phone.
“There was a notebook in his safe,” he said. “I photographed every page.”
I took the phone and started scrolling. My eyes widened with every entry. Names. Dates. Secrets. Leverage on almost every important person in the pack.
It wasn’t just records. It was carefully collected power.
“Holy shit,” I muttered. “It’s an old-school blackmail book.”
Jackson leaned in closer, looking over my shoulder as I scrolled. His body tensed with each new page.
“He’s got dirt on everyone,” he said. “Who beats their spouse, who’s stealing from their job, who’s having affairs. Instead of enforcing pack law, he’s been using their crimes to keep them in line.”
He exhaled sharply. “I knew he played dirty… but not like this.”
I turned in his lap so I could face him fully, resting my hands on his chest.
“Thomas is a predator. He’s spent his whole life hiding in plain sight. None of this is your fault. The shame belongs to him.”
Jackson let out a bitter laugh, but his arms came around me anyway.
“He’s surrounded himself with loyal enforcers who benefit from the same system. The pack is rotten to the core.”
I rested my forehead against his. “When the time comes, we’ll make sure he pays for every single thing he’s done. We’ll help the ones who’ve been hurt.”
We sat in heavy silence for a while, Jackson cradling me in his lap. Eventually I broke it.
“We need to go through these files carefully. See if we need to adjust our plan.”
He nodded, pulling me closer. “Whatever we do next… we do it together.”
Midweek, the apartment was quiet except for the rhythmic tap of my fingers on the keyboard. Jackson had stepped out to grab food, leaving me alone with the drive. I worked systematically through the files, starting with the financials, then the communications, then the miscellaneous folders.
Most of it was what we already expected. Greed. Control. The slow, deliberate rot of a pack being bled dry for years.
Then I hit a folder that didn’t fit.
It wasn’t pack finances. It wasn’t the blackmail ledger. It was a long chain of payments to private investigators and security firms that stretched back nineteen years. Attached to each payment were reports, all of them ending the same way: No trace. Dead end. Subject remains missing.
This wasn’t a short search. It was a sustained manhunt. Expensive. Methodical. And completely unsuccessful.
The front door clicked open. Jackson walked in carrying bags of takeout.
“Jackson, come look at this.”
He set the bags down and crossed the room, leaning over my shoulder. I scrolled slowly through the earliest records.
“Look at the dates,” I said.
He went very still. “That’s right after my uncle Christopher died. Right after Noah vanished.”
I didn’t say anything. I just opened the next report. Another dead end. Another city. Another firm. Nineteen years of the same result.
Jackson’s hand tightened on the back of my chair. “He’s been looking for him for nineteen years. If he’d killed Noah himself, he wouldn’t still be searching.”
“Unless Thomas enjoys wasting money, Noah is probably still alive,” I said carefully. “Well hidden. And as Christopher’s son, he would have a stronger claim to alpha than Thomas ever did. Thomas knows that. If he’s been hunting him this long, it’s because he still considers him a threat.”
The realization settled hard between us. Stacked on top of the folder with the children, it was too much to carry alone.
“We need real help,” I said. “For this. For the children.”
Jackson nodded once. I picked up my phone and dialed.
Brian answered on the second ring.
“I found things,” I said. “Things I can’t move from here. I need to come up this weekend.”
A pause.
Then Brian’s voice came through. “Bring Jackson.”
The following weekend, we drove out to Brian and Janet’s. Jackson held my hand between us the entire way, his thumb brushing over the mating bracelet again and again.
I watched the highway roll past and tried not to think too hard about what we were about to lay at their feet. The files. The children. Noah. All of it.
When we finally pulled into the driveway, the house looked the same as it always had. Safe in a way almost nothing else felt anymore.
Janet opened the door before we could knock. The moment she saw us her face lit up with pure, unguarded joy. She pulled me into a tight hug first, then turned to Jackson with open arms, surprising him into stillness for a second before he returned it.
“You’re mated,” she said, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so happy for you. Both of you.”
Brian stood in the doorway behind her, arms crossed, expression unreadable as always. He studied Jackson for a long moment, then gave a single nod.
“We’ll talk after dinner.”
The meal was simple and warm — roasted chicken, vegetables from the garden, fresh bread. Jackson stayed close, refilling my water, brushing his fingers along my back whenever he passed. Janet kept smiling at us like she couldn’t help it.
After dinner Brian led us into his office.
The moment the door closed, the temperature changed. I didn’t ease into it.
“Jackson knows everything.”
Brian’s gaze shifted to him.
“Everything,” I repeated. “What I am. What I’ve done. What I plan to do.”
Silence.
Brian studied Jackson with flat, assessing eyes.
“You understand what she is,” he said, voice calm but edged. “What she’s planning. And you’re still here.”
Jackson met his stare without flinching. “She’s my mate. I knew what I was choosing. If it comes down to her or the pack, I choose her. Every time. I have no father anymore. Only her.”
Brian studied him for a long moment, then gave a single, sharp nod.
“Good. Because if you ever waver, I will remove you myself.”
The threat was calm. Absolute. Jackson didn’t blink.
I moved on before the tension could settle. I placed the laptop on the desk and turned it toward him.
“We found things.”
I showed him the files with the children. Brian’s face didn’t change much when he saw it, but I saw the flicker in his eyes — the same cold fury I felt.
“I’ll handle that,” he said. “You two stay clear of it.”
Then I opened the folder with the investigator payments. Nineteen years of searching. Dead ends. No trace.
Jackson’s voice was low. “This started right after Alpha Christopher died. Right after Noah disappeared. Thomas has been hunting him this whole time.”
Brian leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing.
“If he’s been looking for nineteen years, it means the boy is likely still alive. And as the rightful heir, he’s a direct threat to Thomas’s power.”
I nodded. “We need you to run your own search. Try to reach Noah first. Before Thomas does.”
Brian was quiet for a long moment. Then he gave a single, decisive nod.
“I’ll start digging. This is going to take time.”
Janet had already made up the guest room. We stayed the night with the quiet understanding that the real war had just begun. Brian would work in the background while we kept moving forward on our end.
The warmth of the evening still lingered on my skin as I lay next to Jackson in the dark, but it felt like borrowed time.
The storm was coming.
And we were ready to meet it.