Chapter 14
CHAPTER 14
RYKER
C an’t fucking sleep. Every time I close my eyes or hell, even when they’re open, I’m obsessing over Kayla. Not even a scalding shower does any fucking good. The way she’s fragile yet defiant twists my gut into knots of carnal need. I can’t stop imagining her soft lips and the curves of her body barely concealed beneath thin clothes.
Almost told our boss at Pryce Corp Bounty Hunting Services about finding her, but the thought left a sour taste in my mouth. I deleted the text before sending it. Told myself that it wasn’t because of Liam’s insistence that she was our Omega that held me back.
The thought of her lips, her body, her scent—it all consumes me, making sleep impossible. The primal need to protect her, to possess her, gnaws at me relentlessly.
Am I fooling myself?
Fated mates are a fantasy for pampered Alphas, not for hardened bounty hunters like me. We deal in cold, hard cash, not some cosmic joke of a soulmate.
Yet every time I get too close to Kayla, a raw, primal energy pulses between us. It’s like a force trying to draw me closer, a need that goes beyond reason. But I shove it down, bury it deep.
And fuck, that damn ambush at the cabin. What the hell was that about? Bullets whizzing past. We got Kayla out, barely. My pulse still races, thinking about it. Who were the clowns playing target practice? The bastards shooting at us put Kayla in danger, too, so that doesn’t make sense. Was it the black truck goons or some trigger-happy bounty hunters?
One thing’s for sure, I’ll get to the bottom of this, even if it means clawing my way through every layer of lies. And I need to see if I can get Kayla to open up about the other Omegas… about what happened on that fucking bus.
Right now, though, I need to get out of the mansion and away from the temptation of Kayla.
I pull on my jeans and biker boots, the familiar weight grounding me. A t-shirt and my leather biker jacket follow.
Gotta clear my head, get my fucking heart to stop pounding like I’m having a heart attack whenever I think about handing her over. She ain’t our pampered Omega, no matter what Liam claims. Scumbags like us don’t have that kinda clout, not even with my bastard father’s stacks of cash. Old money also runs deep in Nexus, and privilege and who you know is fucking everything.
Doesn’t matter that it’s the dead of night. The garage door groans open, and I throw a leg over my bike, the engine roaring. No helmet—not expecting traffic at this hour. The electronic gate swings open, granting my escape down the vacant road.
The road curves sharply, and I lean hard into it, the roar of the engine vibrating through my bones. The cool night air whips against my face, stinging my eyes as I keep the bike hugging the road. I barely avoid nailing a damn possum playing chicken.
Elara loved racing down this road. The searing guilt tightens its icy grip on my chest.
Memories assault me, dragging me back to nightmares I’ve spent years running from. I’m ten years old again, heart hammering as the harsh white walls of the hospital close in. My sister Elara clutches our father, tears streaking her dirt-smudged face.
“Please…don’t send me away,” she screams, voice raw with panic. But the guards wrench her away, her muffled cries echoing long after she’s gone.
Dad grins as he accepts the cash for selling his own daughter to a rogue Alpha. A way for him to get quick cash to pay for his gambling debts. The Alpha who bought her flew into a rage when he discovered she wasn’t a virgin. In his frenzy, he viciously caved her head in, killing her.
A choked moan escapes my throat, pulling me back to the present. I’m fucking drowning in the past, the air too thin, crushed by the weight of failure. Elara, my sister, was gone because I was too weak to protect her, too scared to face my father.
Ever since Elara, I believed Omegas were better off with Nexus since they thoroughly vet their Alphas. The Omegas are treated like precious celebrities there, and if Dad had done the right thing, my sister would still be alive. I thought Nexus knew better than anyone which Omega went with which Alpha or Alphas. Now, with Kayla, I’m not so sure.
I take another turn, adding speed to pass up an SUV doing twenty in a fifty-mile-per-hour zone.
As soon as we collect payment from this Omega bounty, she’s out of our lives for good. Back to normal before she crashed into our home, upending everything. Except my stupid instincts insist there’s more to this broad than a paycheck.
I tell myself she’s better off with Nexus and not with us, no matter how fucking badly I want her.
My gut screams, ‘What if Nexus is wrong for her? What if it’s not what everyone says it is?’ Especially after what Liam told me about the Nexus guard nearly assaulting her.
What I fucking need are answers—the truth about what really goes on there and what happens to the Omegas they claim to protect.
If I have to give Kayla up, I need to at least know that she’s going to be happy, cherished. That I’m not making a goddamn mistake.
The farther I get from Kayla, the heavier this decision of turning her in weighs on me. We took the job and got the mark. My reputation’s built on never missing a target, even if she’s wormed her way under my skin. I haven’t told our boss at Pryce the truth—that we found one of those missing Omegas. Hesitating eats me up inside.
I’ve always trusted my gut, but now it’s screaming that Liam’s right. There’s something deeply off about this whole situation, but keeping this Omega would blow everything we’ve built.
I’m stuck in fucking limbo. Turn her in, let her go—both options leave me feeling like I swallowed a mouthful of gravel.
Ain’t no way I can deal with this blind.
Gotta know what Kayla knows, if anything, about that damn bus crash, those other Omegas, and Nexus. My heart screams that Kayla belongs with us, that she’s safer with us than any corporation, but what if I’m wrong, and she’d be happier without us?
That thought twists a knife in my chest.
Liam mentioned a black truck at the scene, doors open and nobody inside. Another bounty hunter trying to snag the others, or is there more to it? If someone is involved in trafficking Omegas, that would change everything and explain why we had those assholes shooting at us back at the cabin.
Questions swarm as I ride, eating up miles. I need to hear her story, to see if she knows anything that could blow a whole shady-fucking operation wide open. Need to learn what’s really going on before making any decisions about Kayla. Until then, she stays put.
Kayla
T he scent of bacon nudges me out of sleep. I flip open my eyes to the sunlight pouring through a gap in the curtains. Wait. What time is it? 10”30 a.m.? What happened to the damn alarm? I bolt upright, flinging the covers back, a curse under my breath. A frantic pat locates the clock on the nightstand. My blood turns to ice. 4:30 p.m.? I set the alarm for p.m. instead of a.m.? Sneaking out now is a spectacularly bad idea.
My stomach, however, has different plans. It growls loudly at the smell of bacon. With a sigh, I shuffle out of bed, the oversized t-shirt I snagged from Dane clinging to me. A blush heats my cheeks that I slept in his shirt.
Bathroom.
Quickly, I brush my teeth and comb my hair until it looks presentable, then back to the bedroom. Dane’s shirt reminds me of Liam’s comment last night about not wearing any underwear.
I hustle to the laundry room, recalling that I fell asleep in Liam’s bed and didn’t grab the clothes from the dryer last night. There’s no one in here, and I close the door.
Quickly, I take Dane’s shirt off, toss it into one of the open washing machines, then pull on my clothes.
Maybe there’s still a way out. Maybe I can fake sick, plead a sudden stomach ache strong enough to deter Ryker from turning me in. The thought sends a fresh wave of anxiety crashing over me.
The sizzle of bacon overwhelms my senses the second I hit the bottom step. My stomach growls in response, a loud, embarrassing rumble I’m sure the whole mansion can hear.
I need to make my move and escape while everyone’s distracted. Quietly, I creep down the hallway. The front door is in sight when a noise behind me makes me freeze.
“And where do you think you’re going?” Dane has a spatula in his hand, and his arms are crossed over his chest.
I swallow hard against my tightening throat. “Um… I thought I’d go out for a walk… fresh air,” I lie. “Should be safe, right? You guys said you had security, and there’s a gate around the property.” Which I needed to figure out how to get past.
“Yeah, but I made breakfast. How about you eat first?” He lowers his arms, but there’s a tightness around his eyes. “Come on, the food’s going to get cold.”
Since I’m already busted and I am starving, I follow Dane into the kitchen.
He flips a mountain of bacon like a short-order cook on TV. Eggs sizzle merrily in a pan beside him, and the unmistakable scent of French toast hangs in the air, thick and sweet enough to practically knock me over.
He gives me a nod. “Rough night?”
“You could say that,” I mumble, the sleep clinging to my voice like cobwebs. “Mornings and I aren’t exactly best friends.” Especially mornings that started with a near-meltdown over a misplaced alarm. “Though,” I add, a wry smile pulling at my lips, “the smell of bacon is a pretty good incentive to get out of bed.”
He chuckles. There’s a comfortable ease to being around Dane, a sense of normalcy I crave, despite the circumstances. He slides a plate toward me.
“Got a little bit of everything. Dig in.”
The food Dane’s whipping up smells like a five-star restaurant exploded in the kitchen, just like Dad used to take me to once a year on my birthday, all warm, buttery goodness. Despite the knot of worry tightening in my chest, I find myself piling my plate high with sausage, crispy bacon, and a giant slab of that golden brown French toast.
“Syrup’s on the table,” Dane says, tilting his chin toward a fancy-looking bottle.
I grab the bottle, the dark maple syrup glinting in the morning light. Expensive stuff, I bet. A far cry from the cheap corn syrup I’m used to. I drizzle it liberally over my food, careful not to drown it. The first bite is a revelation. Crispy on the outside, soft and custardy on the inside, bursting with flavor. I moan, a low rumble that surprises even me. Second helpings, definitely.
Dane finishes plating his own breakfast and joins me at the table.
“If you keep making those noises,” he teases, a playful glint in his eyes, “I’ll be cooking all day for you, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart . The word sends a jolt through me. It wasn’t a term I was used to, especially since Omegas are pretty much kept far apart from any unmated, unattached Alphas.
“This is really good,” I say, helping myself to another piece of French toast. Dad would be so envious of this meal. Every Saturday, we’d sit down and eat as a family... A wave of grief threatens to engulf me, a raw ache that never seems to fully go away. I blink rapidly, shoving another piece of sausage into my mouth to avoid conversation. Pushing down the memories, the what-ifs, sorrow threatens to spill over. Lately, it feels like the dam is cracking.
Dane is meticulously cutting his French toast into perfect squares.
This normal routine steals my breath. I can’t believe I’m sitting here, eating like everything is normal. I pause mid-bite, the French toast suddenly tasting like mush in my mouth.
Swallowing hard, I level Dane with a pointed glare. “So, what’s on the agenda for today? More keeping Kayla under house arrest?” I challenge sarcastically.
Dane holds my gaze steadily, unfazed by my sudden attitude shift. “We’re just trying to keep you safe, Kayla. Nexus is undoubtedly searching high and low for you.”
“Safe?” I stab at the remaining piece of French toast, yet my appetite is gone. “By keeping me prisoner?” I shake my head in disbelief. “What about my friends? My mom? I need to let them know that I’m okay.” As far as I can be, considering I’m stuck with three bounty hunters and one who seems to want to pitch me out and collect his pay at the first opportunity.
Dane frowns. “Using any phones or technology will give away your location to Nexus. They’ll be monitoring all communications of your loved ones.”
“Shit, you’re right. But I can’t just sit here forever, twiddling my thumbs and hoping for the best.” I push my plate away.
“Kayla,” Dane says softly. “Just give Ryker some time. He’ll come around and won’t turn you into Nexus.”
Standing, I pace the small kitchen. “Can’t I at least send a message to my mom? Something to let her know I’m alive?”
Dane sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s too risky. One slip, and they’ll trace it back here.”
“Fantastic,” I mutter, leaning against the counter. For the moment, I was safe here, but how long would that last? How long before Nexus either found me or Ryker turned me in to collect the bounty? I couldn’t hide here for the rest of my life.
Dane’s eyes soften. “We’ll find a way, Kayla. Just... not right now.”
I cross my arms, fighting the hopelessness threatening to swallow me whole. I have no choice but to trust him.
Freedom. Something I’ve never had. It’s what I’m running toward, or maybe it’s what I’m trying to salvage from the wreck of my past. With Dane and Liam, I’ve tasted a sliver of it, but the threat of Ryker handing me over to Nexus is like a noose that I can’t quite shake off.
“Where’s Ryker this morning?”
Dane’s expression doesn’t shift as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. “Haven’t seen him,” he states, his tone neutral, giving nothing away.
My heart thumps a little harder in my chest. Is Ryker working out a deal with whoever hired him, Dane, and Liam?
“Ryker does what Ryker wants,” Dane says, finally. “But you’re safe with us, Kayla. Nothing happens in this house without going through me or Liam first.”
I wish I could believe him, but I’ve experienced too many people saying one thing and doing another.
“Hey,” Dane says softly, reaching across the table, stopping just shy of touching my hand. “We got you.”
His assurance wraps around me. I want to believe him… I do, but there’s a cautious creature inside me, one who’s survived by doubting sweet promises and watching for shadows where light seems brightest.
“Thanks,” I reply, pulling my hand back to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“Kayla, I promise nothing bad will happen to you.” He stands, and there’s a sudden intensity in his stance that wasn’t there before. Protector. Soldier. Alpha.
I force a smile, trying to mask the tremor of fear that always dances along my spine. Survival means more than just breathing. It means staying one step ahead.
“Kayla,” Dane’s voice is gentle as he grabs his cell phone from the counter next to the stove. “What’s your size?”
I flush at the question, my pulse quickening for reasons that have nothing to do with fear. It’s a simple enough question, but the intimacy of it sends heat crawling up my neck.
“Um… what?”
“Clothes.” He frowns at the screen on his phone while he types. “Might as well have something to wear while you’re here. We didn’t have time back at the cabin.”
I swallow the lump pressing into my throat.
“Um, small, mostly. Size eight.” I mumble.
He nods, his thumbs flying over his phone screen, already ordering.
“Anything you don’t like? Colors? Styles?” His eyes meet mine, and there’s an earnest concern that makes it hard to look away.
“Nothing orange,” I say quickly, and then add a softer, “Thank you.”
“Got it, no orange.” He grins, and there’s something in that smile that makes the tightness in my chest loosen a fraction.
New clothes, expensive ones at that, are one of the tenants of an Alpha claiming an Omega. Gifts of clothes, jewelry, and the like are like the promise rings of the past. Fear leaps in my throat, but I tamp it down. Clothes are just clothes, and these Alphas, they’ve got money. A mini-wardrobe for an Omega probably wouldn’t put a dent in their funds, while I had to scrape and save to buy a new pair of jeans once a year.
The kitchen door swings open, and Liam stumbles in, all sleepy disarray and rumpled pajama bottoms with no shirt. His blond hair is a wild mess, sticking out in every direction. He rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand, yawning widely.
“Morning,” he grunts, his voice gravelly with sleep.
The sight of him, so unguarded and adorably human, squeezes something tight in my chest.
“Sleep well?” Dane asks, amusement lacing his tone as Liam shuffles to the fridge.
“Like the dead,” Liam answers, pulling out orange juice with a determined sort of focus.
“Or maybe our last mission on the game of fighting zombies affected your sleep?” I tease, surprising myself.
Liam shoots me a killer-watt smile that steals my breath. “You up for a game later?”
“Sure.”
Dane chuckles, sipping his coffee, and I let being with them both wash over me. For a moment, I allow myself the luxury of feeling safe, not of being an unclaimed Omega with an unsure future.
“Think Ryker’s still sleeping?” I ask, trying to sound casual, but the question feels like a stone in my throat. Last night, he said I’d be taken in this morning, but so far, there’s been no sign of him.
“Who knows?” Liam replies without looking up from his plate of food. “He’s probably off somewhere doing push-ups or brooding in the dark. You know, typical lone wolf stuff.”
“Right,” I say, the word hollow. Even amid warmth and laughter, everything I’m running from looms over me.
“Anyway,” Liam continues, jabbing a piece of sausage off his plate. “Let’s not waste a good breakfast worrying about him.”
“Agreed.” Dane raises his coffee cup in a silent toast.
I nod, forcing myself to focus on the now—the company of two Alphas who, against all odds, seem to be on my side.
“And I’m not saving any of this for him, either.” Liam grins, spooning more eggs onto his plate. “You snooze, you lose… that’s what he always says, right? About time Ryker got a taste of his own medicine.”
My lips twitch into a smile, appreciating the irony, but my stomach knots up tighter. It’s hard to enjoy the humor when I have no idea how much time I have before Ryker shows up.
“Feels kinda wrong to eat all the food, though,” I admit, my gaze flickering toward the hallway, half-expecting Ryker.
“Please,” Liam snorts, dismissive, his blond hair catching the morning light. “We have cereal if he’s that desperate for breakfast. Man’s gotta learn to set an alarm if he wants the good stuff.”
I nod, trying to absorb some of their easy confidence.
We finish eating, and there are no leftovers. No surprise, considering Dane could probably make cardboard taste gourmet.
The plates clink as we stack them in the dishwasher. Dane wipes down the counter with practiced swipes while Liam juggles the silverware, making me laugh.
“Careful, you’ll—” I start, but it’s too late. A fork slips from his grasp, clattering to the floor.
“Score!” Liam crows, as if he meant to do it, and I can’t help but snort at his antics.
“Smooth,” I tease, bending to pick up the utensil. The lightness of the moment is like a bubble around us, delicate and easily popped. As much as I wish I could stay here forever, lost in this simple act of cleaning up after breakfast, I know better.
Reality has a way of reminding me of the dangers lurking outside these walls. The thought of what awaits me sends a shudder through me. Recently, I’ve seen enough of Nexus’s brutality to last a lifetime—the memory of guards’ fists and sneers still fresh, even now.
How the Nexus guards abandoned us while the bus was sliding toward the road during the rain. How one came after me, and if not for Liam?—
“Hey, you okay?” Dane’s voice cuts through the memory.
“Uh, yeah. Just... zoning.” I force a smile, turning back to the task at hand.
“Thanks for breakfast, man.” Liam stretches, and his shirt rides up, revealing his sculpted abs.
My mouth goes dry as the image of him, water cascading over taut muscles, invades my thoughts unbidden. I swallow hard, looking away.
“Keep an eye on things for me?” Dane asks, snapping on a pair of shades. “Gonna check the perimeter, make sure we’re clear.”
“Sure,” I reply, popping a soap pod into the dishwasher. As Dane heads out, I can’t help but think about my constant desire to leave. Where would I even go?
I can’t deny that staying here with these guys is probably safer than trying to survive out there alone. Maybe I need to work on getting Ryker more on my side. If I can get him to change his mind about turning me over, maybe I’d have a real shot at freedom.
I turn to Liam, my resolve hardening. “So, what’s the plan for today? Besides turning the kitchen into a juggling act?”
Liam grins, picking up another fork. “Well, I was thinking of starting a circus, but I guess we could strategize on our video game. Wanna play later?”
I laugh, the tension easing slightly. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Meet you in my room in two hours? I need to get cleaned up and take care of some business. But then it’s you and me against those river trolls.”
“Sounds great.” For now, I have no choice but to trust them.
I lean against the cool granite of the kitchen island, letting out a shaky breath.
“Kayla?” Liam asks from the kitchen’s opening to the hallway. “You good?”
“Never better,” I say, mustering a smirk. My hands betray me, trembling ever so slightly as they grip the edge of the counter.
“Right,” Liam nods, though I see the concern flicker in his eyes before he turns away. “Well, if you need anything...”
“Thanks.” The word is a whisper, but it feels like a shout in the quiet kitchen.
Liam disappears down the hallway, and I’m left to face the silence. My thoughts whirl with possibilities, each more frightening than the last, and I wonder how long it will be until my past—or Ryker—catches up with me.
For now, I’m safe. For now, I have allies. But in a world where Omegas are hunted and Alphas rule, nothing is certain.
But I can’t just wait around here and do nothing, or I’ll go crazy.
The echo of my own erratic heartbeat follows me into the garage. The vast space is empty, save for the array of vehicles and Ryker’s absence. I’d half-expected to find him here, lurking with that smoky aura of his, but there’s only the scent of oil and metal.
I wander over to the Corvette hoisted on jacks, sleek and red like it’s been dipped in sin.
My fingers brush the tools scattered around the workbench, each one conjuring up a memory of my dad, his oil-stained hands working diligently under the hood of some junker he’d brought back to life. He had always said cars are like people—complex and needing care.
“Miss you, Dad,” I murmur, the words lost amidst the cavernous size of the garage. Dad would’ve been so envious if he could see this place.
For now, it’s just me and these machines and a gnawing restlessness that won’t let me be still. I’m not one to sit idle, especially when my mind’s racing faster than a drag car on the final stretch.
Dropping to a crouch, I check the tires, then the engine. That’s not enough, though. I need something to do, something to fix. Then I see the transmission, looking rough and worn out, like it’s been chewed up and spit out.
“Looks like you’ve seen better days,” I say to the Corvette as if it can hear me.
Without thinking, I grab a wrench and get to work. The feel of cold steel in my hand grounds me, giving me purpose. Every turn of the bolt, every tiny adjustment—it’s control, it’s power. It’s something I haven’t felt in a long time.