Chapter 9
CHAPTER 9
KAYLA
P anic claws at my chest as we tear through the tangled forest. Ryker leads the way, a blur of tense muscle. Liam keeps pace beside me while Dale brings up the rear. I trip over a gnarled tree root, but Liam catches me before I faceplant.
“Thanks,” I gasp, scrambling upright.
“You got this, Kayla!” Ryker says.
My focus narrows to the camo Jeep parked haphazardly near an oak tree. It looks like a beast of a machine, with scars of mud and use etched into its frame.
Angry shouts echo behind us. Could it be Nexus? The thought sends shivers through me. Once, I’d have run toward their uniforms for safety, but that was before I saw the truth in a spark of electricity and a scream from my friend’s lips.
At the Jeep, Ryker rips open the passenger door. “Get in!”
I scramble into the Jeep. The leather seat is cold against my thighs. Dale slides in after me, and Liam on the other.
Ryker takes the wheel, starting the engine.
“Buckle up,” Liam says.
My pulse skips and stutters in response. Nexus or not, men are coming for us, and the instinct to survive screams louder than any rational thought.
“Are they…” My voice trembles. “Are they Nexus?”
“Doesn’t matter who they are right now,” Ryker shoots back, his gaze holding mine in the rearview mirror. “We need to get out of here. Now.”
The Jeep’s engine roars to life. As the shouts swell into a frenzy just beyond our rapidly disappearing view, Ryker floors the accelerator, and we lurch forward.
Bullets ping off the metal hull.
“Fuck! Get down.” Dale pushes me down.
From the corner of my eye, I see him pull out a gun from one of the bags he packed, and he starts returning gunfire through the open window. My breath stutters in my chest as the Jeep jostles with every twist and turn as Ryker drives.
“Keep your head down,” Liam mutters from beside me, his hand on my shoulder pressing me lower. The danger isn’t a distant echo anymore; it’s here, now, and terrifyingly real.
The zing of a bullet sounds. Beside me, Dale grunts—a sound that slices through the noise, and my head snaps up. Blood blooms on his shoulder, stark against the black of his shirt.
“Bastard,” Dale shouts and fires his gun over and over. When I glance up, I see blood blooming across his sleeve, and my stomach rolls.
“Shit, Dane!” Liam twists in the seat on my other side. “You’re hit?”
“Scratch,” Dane reloads with a wince. His eyes lock with mine for a split second, and there’s a silent promise in their depths—I will keep you safe.
Then I shake my head because he’s just doing what any Alpha would do in this situation.
“Where are we go—” Another sharp turn slams me against Liam, cutting off my question while Liam grunts.
“Somewhere safe,” Ryker snaps, his focus never wavering from the road ahead. There’s no comfort in his words, only the unspoken promise that we’re far from any semblance of safety.
“Trust us.” Dale’s words hold a raw challenge that feels like he’s exposing my greatest weakness and how I hate feeling helpless.
“Easy for you to say,” I manage to retort, even though fear has thickened my tongue. “You’re not the one who has to worry about being on the other end of Nexus’ leash.”
“Kayla,” Liam interjects, his tone softer, a contrast to Ryker’s hard edges. “We’ve got you. We won’t let them get to you.”
“Why would you risk your life for me?” I ask with a shaky voice.
“Because you are ours,” Dane grunts through gritted teeth. Despite the pain evident in his voice, there’s strength there, too, a fierce protectiveness.
“Yours,” I whisper, more to myself than to them. The word should send me running for the hills. His possessiveness is a feeling I shouldn’t like, shouldn’t crave, yet there it is, a flicker of warmth blooming in my chest.
“We accepted a job and have never gone back on our word,” Ryker says in a tense voice.
“Let’s discuss that later.” Dane blows out a breath. “Right now, we gotta get these assholes off our tail.”
I don’t know these Alphas, and they sure as hell don’t know me.
The Jeep swerves again, dodging an unseen threat. My breaths jagged, I cling to the backseat, bent over, trying my best not to hyperventilate.
Dale pivots in his seat, the muscles in his arms flexing as he returns fire through the open window while Liam does the same on my other side.
Terror shreds my throat, a primal scream clawing its way out. Cold dread coils in my gut, squeezing the air from my lungs. Adrenaline surges, a sharp, metallic tang spreading on my tongue.
My vision swims at the edges, the world a blur of trees and shadows as Ryker wrestles the Jeep through the undergrowth. A guttural yell rips from him, the steering wheel jerking violently in his hands as he swerves to avoid something I can’t see from my hunched-over position in the backseat, my head between my knees.
“Make me a fucking path.”
“Got it covered!” Liam grits out between shots, and one must hit home because I hear a loud boom, then we drive through flames.
“Nice work,” Dane says, sparing Liam a swift nod.
We barrel through the streets, leaving the staccato beat of gunfire behind. The tension doesn’t wane, though. It only coils tighter within me.
“Clear,” Liam confirms, and we all slump a notch, the immediate threat receding.
“Dane’s injured. He needs medical attention.”
“Later,” he insists, jaw set. “I’ll take care of it when we get to the house.”
“You need a hospital,” I say, my gut twisting as Dane’s shoulder oozes blood.
“Nah.” Dane shakes his head but winces. “I’ve had way worse before.”
“Safe house isn’t far,” Ryker adds, eyeing the rearview mirror.
“Good,” I breathe, my fingers digging into the worn fabric of the seat. Every nerve in my body screams for safety, for the quiet absence of bullets and fear. Dane’s pain-wracked face swims into view, and something fierce flares within me—the urge to help him, to take away his pain.
We slip through the city’s veins, quiet now, the only sound our collective breaths and the occasional grunt from Dane whenever Ryker turns a corner or has to stop suddenly.
“Hey,” I whisper, nudging Dane lightly. “It’s okay to admit it hurts.”
He offers me a wry smile before closing his eyes. “Can’t show weakness,” he murmurs with a sarcastic grin. “Alpha code.”
“Don’t worry, Kayla,” Liam adds. “Dane’s gonna be just fine.”
Squished in the backseat between them both, our thighs touching, their scents heat me from the inside out.
My pulse kicks up as their Alpha pheromones wash over me. An unbidden shiver runs through me, raising goosebumps along my arms. I’m hyperaware of their bodies caging mine, their hard muscles and towering heights. Something primitive stirs inside me.
Part of me wants to bare my neck in submission, while another part frantically warns me to resist, to fight their pull. I’m caught in a tug-of-war between instincts, unsure which crazy side to trust.
“And what about those men who shot at us?” I bite my lip, thinking about the Nexus guards after the bus wreck.
“Kayla, it doesn’t matter.” Dane interrupts my worried thoughts, his voice strained, “You’ve gotta know we’d never let anything happen to you.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Trust isn’t easily given, especially when every instinct screams to guard my heart against these men—their strength, loyalty, and the dangerous allure of them.
W e roll to a stop in front of a huge, two-story mansion that I swear looks like it was pasted from a magazine. White columns, marble statues, and even a freaking water fountain with a wolf in the center howling at the moon as water cascades out of its mouth.
Holy fucking mansion, Batman!
After my initial shock of being shot at, my mind jumps back to Dane and his injury. If it wasn’t for both Dane and Liam blocking the doors, I’d have been out of the Jeep before it fully stopped. The urgency to care for Dane’s wound turns my stomach into a knot.
“Where’s your first aid kit?” I ask.
“Good call,” Liam grins. “He brings that thing with him wherever he goes.”
“Don’t complain, it saved your ass a time or two,” Dane grumbles. “The kit’s in the back.”
I search the back of the Jeep. Finding it, my hands shake as I follow them up the path to the front door.
Ryker grumbles, unpacking the Jeep, but Liam saunters over and unlocks the door, tapping a code on the alarm, and we step inside.
“Follow me to the kitchen.” Liam saunters ahead while I try not to glance up at the massive crystal chandelier overhead.
When the lights blink on, I gasp at the huge space and expensive-looking kitchen, the total opposite of my mom’s tiny, cluttered kitchen back home. This one is a cathedral of stainless steel and granite. Gleaming appliances line the walls, some with functions I can’t even identify. A massive island in the center holds a built-in stovetop and prep space that could feed an army.
Liam and Dane are on either side of me, but Dane pulls out a chair and plops down.
Large windows take up most of the back wall, offering a stunning view of a manicured garden bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. The sight is breathtaking, but it does little to ease the knot of worry tightening in my gut.
“Aren’t you guys worried about a drive-by shooting with all these windows?”
“Nah.” Dane leans back in the chair, pulling his bloody shirt off, cringing when the fabric sticks to the drying blood on his shoulder. “We have the gate, security measures, and plus… all the windows are bulletproof.”
The sight of the wound fuels a protective fire inside me.
“You want me to do it?” Liam asks, his voice soft.
I shake my head. “No, I want to try, if that’s okay? It’s because of me he was shot in the first place.”
“You don’t have to do this.” Dane places a hand over mine. “I’ve dug out plenty of bullets from myself.”
“I want to do this.” I take a deep breath, forcing myself to focus on the first aid kit in my hands, on the warmth of Dane’s hands. “Please.”
Dane nods and pulls his hand from mine.
Opening his medical kit, I pull out one of the disinfecting wipes, my hands shaking slightly. I try not to think about how I’ve never done this before—never had to dig out a bullet in someone.
Every careful dab with the wipe sends a jolt through me.
The scent of cedar and cinnamon from Dane, along with Liam’s sandalwood and sea breeze, is an intoxicating combination that makes my head spin. Both of their Alpha musks highlight every forbidden thought sizzling in my mind.
Thoughts of both of them pressed up against me, kissing me, touching?—
“Jeez, Kayla,” Dane chuckles, a hint of raggedness in the sound. “You disinfect like you’re defusing a bomb. Relax.”
My hands are shaking as I try to grab the stupid tweezers. Fingers clench around the tweezers, frustration warring with the growing anxiety churning in my stomach. This whole “playing doctor” thing is way more nerve-wracking than it looks on TV.
Dane’s gaze meets mine, a flicker of something warm passing through his dark eyes. “You’re doing great so far, sweetheart.”
I focus on keeping my hand steady.
Liam leans casually against the counter. “Don’t worry about leaving a scar. Dane has too many battle wounds to care.”
“You’re just jealous, asshole, that Kayla’s touching me instead of you right now,” Dane shoots back with a wolfish grin.
“Bite me,” Liam growls, but there’s a playful edge to his tone.
Thankfully, Liam’s needling is a distraction from the nervous knot in my stomach. Dane continues, his voice low and reassuring as I position the tweezers. Gently, I slide the tips inside, my stomach churning at the sight of torn flesh. Dane’s body trembles slightly, like he’s trying not to jerk away from the pain.
“That’s it, nice and slow. You’ve got this,” he murmurs, throwing Liam a challenging look.
“What if I make it worse? Or hurt you?” The thought of causing Dane or anyone pain like this makes my chest hurt.
“Hey, you’ll do perfectly.” Dane guides my hand with his own, his touch washing my whole body with heat.
I swallow hard, feeling that dangerous spark between us. Get it together, Kayla!
“Come on, old man, I’ve seen paper cuts tougher than you,” Liam taunts with a smirk.
Their back-and-forth banter keeps my mind from dwelling too much on the fact that I’m basically performing minor surgery.
“I’m starving,” Liam says. “How does Chinese sound?”
“Amazing,” Dane answers as if I’m not hurting him at all, but I know I am. “Kayla?”
“I’m not hungry.” The idea of eating anything right now while Dane’s bleeding has my acid burning the back of my throat.
“You will be.” Liam laughs. “Once Dane’s bullet stops playing peek-a-boo, and he stops bleeding all over the place.”
“Fuck you.” Dane grunts.
Carefully, I probe deeper, my heart pounding when I feel something hard and rigid.
“I think... I think I found it,” I say, sweating now from the tension and effort of being so precise.
“Atta girl,” Dane rumbles proudly.
Forcing myself to breathe deeply, I draw air in through my nostrils and expel it slowly through pursed lips. Get it together, Kayla. You got this . Against all odds, my shaking fingers manage to keep their grip on the tweezers without them clattering to the floor.
“Hey, you might have a talent as a surgeon or doctor,” Liam says. “Either that or Dane’s not cussing you out like he did me last time I had to get a bullet out of his back.”
“That’s because you were tunneling from where the bullet was next to my kidney.”
“Got the bullet out, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, and punctured my lung. Never letting you do more first aid for me, then hand me a fucking bandage.”
Their playful banter is a welcome distraction, offering a brief respite from the knot of tension tightening in my gut. I force myself to take another deep breath, willing my hands to stop trembling. This is no time to panic. Focus, Kayla. You can do this.
I grit my teeth, squaring my shoulders as I refocus on Dane’s wound with renewed resolve. The bullet, however, seems to be having none of it. It wiggles stubbornly, refusing to budge.
If this bullet thinks it can hole up in there and hide from me, it’s got another think coming. I brace myself and give the tweezers a firm twist, determined to dig this slug of metal out of Dane’s ridiculously sculpted shoulder if it’s the last thing I do.
My throat dries. I can’t do this. I can’t. My hands are sweating, but if I pull out the tweezers, I’ll lose my grip on the bullet.
Dane squeezes my shoulder gently. “Hey, relax. Slow and steady.”
I apply gentle but firm pressure with the tweezers. This time, the bullet yields, slipping out of the wound with a satisfying pop. Relief floods me as I hold up the bloody slug.
“Got it.”
“See? You did it. You’re a natural.” Dane’s smile has my heart swelling with pride as he leans in to press a kiss to my forehead.
I freeze like a deer in headlights, my cheeks burning.
My whole body tingles from the motion, and I clear my throat, pushing back quickly.
“Next time, I get to have Kayla play doctor with me,” Liam says, tapping on his cellphone, which I assume is ordering Chinese for us. “I expect the full bedside manner treatment, Kayla. The whole gentle touches and encouraging words routine.”
I can’t help but let out a snort of laughter. The tension eases out of me a fraction.
“At least Omegas are taught how to sew.” I divert my thoughts from Dane’s kiss by rummaging through the med kit for a needle and thread. Back at the Institute, Jess stabbed her fingers more than the material, so much so that I’d do mine and her projects.
I thread the needle and tie a firm knot at the end. As I lean in to begin stitching, our eyes meet. A shiver runs down my spine, apprehension and... something else. I tell myself it’s just from the adrenaline crash of being shot at, then removing a bullet for the first time ever.
As I finish stitching Dane’s wound, a question hangs heavy in my mind—what have I gotten myself into?