21. Kaylani
Chapter 21
Kaylani
A s I’m sitting in the middle of Creed's pickup truck, with a man on each side, my cheeks flush at the memory of what happened at the Den. I tug on the hem of my sweater, and Creed murmurs, "Stop fidgeting, tiny," with a hint of humor in his voice.
"Stop trying to embarrass me," I snap back, but all he does is chuckle good-naturedly. It's like nothing I say can truly rile him up, and I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing for me.
"Where are we going, anyway?" I ask, annoyed, folding my arms across my chest.
I turn to face Creed, who has one hand on the steering wheel and the other draped along the backrest, his fingers kneading the back of Vaughn's neck as he slowly massages his shoulders. Trapped close between the two of them in this cramped cabin, their scents overwhelm my nose, making me ache for them again. I need to get it together. Seriously, what's going on?
"I need to see Sabrina and get another round of suppressants, because these don't seem to be working," I murmur in frustration.
Creed looks at Vaughn over my head for a second before refocusing on the road. I study his profile as I wait for him to respond. When he doesn't, I prompt again, "Well, where are we going?"
It's Vaughn who answers, "We need to see what the hounds are up to. And the best place to do that is downtown."
I turn to face him in surprise. "Downtown? You mean like the docks?" I question.
Vaughn nods. "Yeah, it's where me and Creed actually met."
My eyebrows rise to my hairline in surprise as my gaze bounces between the two men beside me. I find myself desperate to know more about who they are and how they met.
I turn slightly to face Vaughn, giving him my undivided attention. "Oh?" I ask, "Was it some party or something?"
Creed chuckles. "Nah, I had all this money, so I decided to bet it on him—and I won." My eyes widen as I look at Creed, who has a smug look of satisfaction on his handsome face.
"Bet on him? What do you mean?" I ask, trying to piece together the story.
"It's an underground fight club doll," Vaughn answers.
"Yeah, and the owners of the club weren't too happy about my bet," Creed says, with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Then, he decided to go in the back alley without watching what he was doing, and they wanted to take his money from him," Vaughn adds. "I was back there, and couldn't stop myself from stepping in to help him."
"So you've always had a habit of defending Creed and his big mouth, huh?" I tease.
"Hey," Creed says, his lip sticking out in a pout. "I don't always do that."
"You do," Vaughn and I say in unison.
"Don't worry, love," Vaughn says, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine, "I crave that mouth of yours."
My cheeks heat with embarrassment as I watch the two of them exchange a look. It feels intimate, like I'm intruding.
Creed's hand leaves Vaughn's neck and trails down to rest on the small of my back, drawing lazy circles that make my skin tingle. "We’re a pack, tiny," he says softly. "You’re part of this now, whether you like it or not."
I look up at him, feeling the weight of his words. The memory of their scents, their touches, and the way they protected me floods back, making my heart race. "I know," I whisper. "I'm finally starting to accept it."
Vaughn leans in, his breath warm against my ear. "You will," he assures me, his hand covering mine. "We’ll make sure of it."
The truck rumbles on, and I find myself caught between their steadying presences. Creed’s teasing, Vaughn’s seriousness, and the underlying tension between all three of us, creates a bubble of complex emotions that I’m not sure how to navigate.
I clear my throat, trying to break the spell. "So, this fight club... what was it like?"
Creed chuckles, his fingers still tracing patterns on my back. "It was intense. Blood, sweat, and a lot of money. Vaughn was a beast in the ring."
"And Creed was a fool with his money," Vaughn adds with a smirk. "But that’s how we met, and I guess it worked out."
Creed nods in agreement. "We’ve got each other’s backs. Always."
I look between them, feeling a warmth spread through me despite the uncertainty ahead. Maybe this strange, intense connection is exactly what I need in order to face what’s coming. As long as we’re together, I think I might just be able to handle it.
Creed's hand moves to gently grip my shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. "You're safe with us, tiny. We won't let anything happen to you."
Vaughn's fingers intertwine with mine, and he gives a gentle squeeze. "You’re knot alone, remember that, doll."
I lean back into the seat, feeling the comforting warmth of their bodies on either side of me. It's overwhelming, but in a good way. I'm knot alone anymore, and that thought gives me strength.
My mind races with images of what the fight club might look like. I imagine a dimly lit basement, the air thick with sweat and adrenaline. The walls would be grimy, probably covered in graffiti, with old posters peeling away them. A crowd of onlookers, their faces shadowed, would circle the makeshift ring, all shouting and placing bets.
The fighters, stripped to their bare essentials, muscles glistening under harsh, flickering lights, would move with a raw, primal energy. Every punch, every kick, every grapple would be met with roars of approval or groans of disappointment from the audience. Blood would splatter on the concrete floor, mixing with the dirt and grime, a testament to the brutality of the fights. And there, in the center of it all, I can see Vaughn, his body coiled like a predator ready to strike. His eyes focused, determined, a stark contrast to the chaos around him. Creed, on the other hand, would be on the sidelines, his gaze never leaving Vaughn, a mixture of concern and pride etched on his face.
The thought of them meeting in such a violent, raw environment sends a shiver of need down my spine. I’m drawn to them, both of them, in ways I can’t explain, and the intensity of my feelings scares me. As the truck drives on, I try to push these thoughts away. I need to focus on the present.
On bringing Hux home and saving the omega's being held prisoner.
Soon, we pull up in front of the docks. We’re greeted by a bustling scene, with cars angled in a circle, and groups of men and women mingling among them. My gaze roams over everything, taking it all in. I've never been down here before—always too focused on being a good student to find myself among the riff-raff. I was focused on breaking the cycle. Seeking a better life motivated me to not only stay out of trouble, but to become a nurse.
I always wanted to help people. I still do .
Creed cuts the engine of the truck and turns to face me. His usually playful expression hardens into seriousness. "Listen, tiny, while we're here, don't leave our side, okay?" His tone carries weight, and my stomach flips with nerves.
I chew on my lip, gazing back out the window at the people, my heart hammering in my chest.
"You're safe with us, you know that, right? But if you don't want to be here, we'll go. Just say the word," Creed says, pulling my attention back
I consider his offer, but I can't see myself leaving. This is a chance to learn about Vaughn and Creed. To see where Vaughn comes from, and to get some answers about the Hounds.
I shake my head and lift my chin. "No, I'm ready. Let's go."
When neither man moves, I look between them and repeat, firmer this time, "I'm fine. Let's go."
"A bit feisty. I like it," Creed teases, as he hops out of the truck.
Vaughn gets out, offering me his hand, and I take it, his massive fingers encasing my small hand. That's when I notice his scarred knuckles, and I’m reminded of all he has done for me and our pack. I pull his hand to stop him and he looks down at me, brows pinched in confusion.
"I'm not sure I've properly thanked you for everything you've done," I say.
Vaughn shakes his head as soon as I start talking, closing the truck door and pushing me against its side, his arm leaning above my head as he traps me.
"You don't need to thank me, doll. I'll always protect you," he murmurs, and I believe him.
"Come on, lovebirds," Creed sings, as he heads over to the crowd of people.
Vaughn takes my hand again and leads me over to the group. A few men stop to greet Vaughn as we enter. He stops, getting into an animated conversation with one of the men, but I don't really pay them any mind as I take in all the people here.
Creed comes back to us after a few minutes, a hard look on his face, and my stomach flutters with nerves again. I take in a deep breath, trying to settle myself because I don't really know how much more of being on edge I can handle.
"Vaughn," Creed says, his voice low with warning. "Something's wrong." Whoever Vaughn is talking to, he quickly dismisses him and tugs me towards Creed. This entire time, Vaughn has never let go of my hand, not once.
"What's going on?" Creed asks.
"You'll never guess who's here."
"Who?"
My eyes bounce between them as I try to figure out what's going on. That is, until an alpha swaggering toward us catches my attention. His brown eyes lock onto mine with a darkness that terrifies me. My hand squeezes Vaughn's tighter, but he doesn't complain.
"Dane fucking Ledger," Creed hisses.
As Creed's words sink in, my heart quickens its pace, a sense of foreboding settling over me like a heavy blanket. The name sends a chill down my spine, conjuring memories of whispered tales and warnings. Dane Ledger—his reputation precedes him, a figure of fear and intimidation in the underworld of Sterling City.
Vaughn's grip on my hand tightens, pulling me closer to him, his silent reassurance a comforting anchor amidst the rising tension. His proximity offers a sense of protection, a shield against the looming threat of Dane Ledger's presence.
Creed's jaw tightens, his expression hardening with resolve as he assesses the situation. I catch the flicker of concern in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that Dane's arrival poses.
"What do we do?" I whisper, the urgency in my voice mirrored by the furrow of my brow.
Creed's gaze remains fixed on Dane, his mind undoubtedly racing with potential courses of action. "We stay close," he murmurs, his voice low but firm. "And we keep an eye on him."
Vaughn's arm snakes around my waist, pulling me tightly into his side. His protective stance mirrors Creed's. His closeness offers a sense of security amidst the uncertainty, a silent vow to shield me from any potential harm.
I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever may come, my gaze locked on Dane as he draws nearer. The air crackles with tension, each passing moment laden with anticipation and apprehension.
As Dane approaches, his gaze remains fixed on us, a predatory glint dancing in his eyes. My pulse quickens, a knot of anxiety tightening in my chest as the weight of his presence bears down on us.
Creed's voice cuts through the silence, his tone steely with determination. "We'll handle this," he says, his words a quiet reassurance in the face of uncertainty.