Chapter 30
THIRTY
MAX
A loud crack followed by a sharp sting on my cheek pulled me from the darkness.
I blinked against the harsh afternoon light and coughed, my throat choked with dust. I was flat on my back, and the ground beneath me was cold and unforgiving.
Where the hell was I? Where was Gwen? Why did my head hurt so much?
Another stinging slap landed across my cheek, knocking my head to the side. I spit out another mouthful of dirt and dust. “What the fuck?” I yelled, looking around.
“Wake up.”
My blood ran cold as that voice brought back a flood of memories. The diner bathroom, texting Atlas—oh, God, Atlas—and opening the door to find…
Joey.
I scrambled away from him and stood. The back of my head throbbed. “What’s going on?” I asked, voice shaky. “Where are we?”
He paced back and forth across the dirty, concrete floor littered with debris, wringing his hands and muttering to himself. I glanced behind him, squinting to see the darkened corners of the room.
We were in the middle of a large, open space with dilapidated metal walls on all sides. A beam of light fell across the center where we stood from a broken-out window high above, but otherwise the area was dim and dingy.
It smelled terrible. Actually, it almost smelled like—
My vision tunneled. Just like the warehouse.
Oh, God. He’d brought me back to the warehouse.
Joey came to a sudden halt, facing me. He looked rough. Really rough. Way worse than I remembered. What the hell had happened to him? He was twitchy and jittery, and even when he’d stopped pacing, he wouldn’t stand still.
His eyes were sunken in, with hollowed-out cheekbones a skeleton would be envious of. A scar puckered down his cheek. My blood ran hot remembering the way Atlas had slashed him across the face, drawing blood.
Still muttering to himself, his hands twitched and reached for something in his pocket. I recoiled when he thrust it at me, but it was just a phone.
My phone.
“Call him.”
I blinked in confusion. “What?”
“Call him!” he shouted. “That creepy fuck in the mask. I know you’re his. Call him.”
He took two steps towards me, shoving the phone in my face. Instinctively, my hands went up in a placating gesture, and I shuffled back. “Stay the fuck away from me.”
“CALL HIM!” he screamed, spittle flying from his mouth. He pulled a handgun from his pants and pointed it directly at my face. “CALL HIM!”
The crazed look in his eyes made it hard to breathe. I nearly shit myself. I’d never seen him this unstable. Joey was dangerous before, but this amount of volatility could only end in disaster. Slowly, I reached for the phone. “Okay! Okay. Calm down. I’ll call him.”
He held it out of reach, like we were playing a game of keepaway. “If you try and call the cops, I’ll blow your fucking head off. One call,” he snarled, pressing the barrel to my temple.
The thought honestly never crossed my mind. I’d call Atlas to come save me before the fucking national guard. “Got it. Only him.”
With shaky hands, I took the phone. Unlocking it, I saw Atlas had tried to call several times already. Did he know something was wrong? Surely, Gwen had realized I was gone by now and alerted him. Oh, God, please let him already be looking for me.
I tapped his name, calling him back.
He picked up on the first ring, talking so fast I could barely understand him. “Max? Max! Sweetheart, are you alright?”
Sheer relief and longing hit me so hard it made my knees weak. “Atlas.” My voice broke. “It’s Joey. We’re at the—”
“Shut up,” Joey snarled, snatching the phone from my hand and putting it on speaker.
He pressed the gun into my head harder, and I couldn’t help my hiss of pain.
“I know who you are, Saint Marino,” he continued. “I know you live in that big, fancy house on the water. I know where your kid goes to daycare.”
Wait, what? Where did he get that from? Had he been following Atlas and mistaken him for Mr. Marino?
Atlas didn’t correct him. “What do you want?” His voice turned so cold it sent shivers down my spine.
Atlas wasn’t on the phone anymore. That was the Masked Man.
“I want five million dollars.” Joey cocked the gun near the phone so Atlas would hear. “Or I’m blowing the omega’s brains out.”
Five million dollars? Five million dollars?
This was ridiculous. I’d laugh if he didn’t have a gun pointed right at me. He was behaving like a raving lunatic, kidnapping me on a whim and demanding an insane amount of money for ransom.
My hysteria turned to panic quickly, though. I sucked in fast, shallow breaths, lungs unable to fully expand. There was no way in hell I was getting out of here. Joey was out of his mind, and Atlas would never find me in time.
Who the fuck did Joey think Atlas was, anyway? I mean, Mr. Marino was rich, for sure. But nobody had five million dollars just sitting in a bank account, waiting to—
“Done.”
I blinked, stunned. Surely, Atlas wasn’t serious?
Joey seemed equally taken aback, growing even more agitated. “Don’t fuck around with me,” he said. “If you’re bluffing, I’ll know.”
“I’m not bluffing. I’ll call and have it wired straight into your account when I see my mate alive. Or would you prefer cryptocurrency?”
Despite Atlas’ easy acquiescence, Joey’s face turned red, and he began gesticulating wildly with the gun. Somehow, Atlas had shaken him even more, playing him like a fiddle while taking control of the negotiation.
It was as if Joey never intended for his plan to work, and when it wasn't met with resistance, he didn’t know what to do next.
Almost purple in the face, he said, “If that’s so easy for you, I want ten. And you don’t even know where we are, so you’d better listen—”
The sound of gravel crunching under tires halted him mid-sentence. My heart swooped. Was that Atlas? Or someone else? Was this nightmare about to get even worse?
“You’re a fucking idiot if you thought you could take my mate somewhere I wouldn’t find. Now bring him outside, alive, and you can have your money.”
Atlas was here. Atlas was here. He’d found me before I even called. He’d found me and come for me.
Mate is here! My omega howled. Go to him! Go!
I lunged for the open doorway on my left. The warehouse looked different in the daylight; less mysterious, and more dingy.
The hall leading out of the main room was narrow, but ended with bright, afternoon light pouring in under the far door leading outside. If I could reach that before Joey, I’d be able to get away.
Too late. Joey threw my phone to the side where it landed with a crack against the concrete floor and rounded on me. “Don’t you dare,” he shouted, stopping me in my tracks by grabbing the back of my shirt and pressing the gun into the back of my head. “Walk.”
Marching me right up to the exit, he leaned in, his hot breath uncomfortably close to my ear. “If you try to bolt, I’ll kill you. Now open the door.”
The light blinded me when we stepped out.
Shielding my face, I blinked against the glare, gaze settling on a sleek, black sedan parked twenty feet away, off to the left of the warehouse.
Leaning against the hood, with his arms crossed like this was a casual custody exchange and not a fucking hostage situation, was the Masked Man.
He wore the mask, hoodie, gloves, and dark pants, with a knife secured at his waist. I swore I could see the mask shift with a smirk, the arrogant bastard.
I’d never wanted anyone or anything more. I was desperate to run to him and kiss that stupid smirk off his face.
“I want cash!” Joey yelled, pressing the gun harder against my head and pushing me away from the warehouse entrance.
He was sweating profusely, bouncing on his feet.
I tried to sidle away from him, but he clung to the back of my shirt and kept me close.
“None of that other bullshit. You’re going to have to come back when you have it. I’m not giving him up until then.”
The Masked Man cocked his head and stood up straight, assessing, and headed our way.
Something glitched in my brain. The way he moved was… different. No less predatory, but more fluid. His steps were lighter, and the mask fit slightly looser on his face. He didn’t have the overwhelming presence Atlas usually carried when he wore it.
Dread pooled in my gut. Was that because the bond was gone? Could I not feel him the same way anymore?
No, mate is here, my omega whispered. He’s here.
A breeze cooled my back, tickling my sweaty nape.
Carried on the wind, just like the very first time I saw him, was the scent I’d follow into the darkest pits of hell.
Sharp ozone, like a fresh lightning strike, and blood.
It weighed heavy and thick on my tongue. I never wanted to taste anything else.
I’d follow that dangerous scent anywhere, because he would always lead me to safety.
He would always lead me home.
The Masked Man in front of me halted when Joey turned the gun on him, hand shaky and unsteady. “Don’t come any closer.”
He held his hands up. “I’m afraid I don’t have any cash on me, sorry. But we really do have to get going. It’s movie night. We’re renting Moana.”
Joey’s hand fisted in my shirt. “I’ll fucking—”
His words cut off with a choke. A sickening wet noise sputtered from his mouth, and he released me.
Stumbling forward, I spun just in time to see a second Masked Man—my Masked Man, mine, mine, mine—yank his knife out from where it was buried deep in Joey’s throat, ripping and shredding the muscle and tendon. Blood spurted out in thick, heavy pulses.
“I told you I’d fucking kill you for touching him,” he snarled, before plunging the knife in again.
In slow motion, the first Masked Man grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me out of the way just as Joey fired at us, the shot whizzing by me.
His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees, wobbling back and forth as the blood slowed from a fountain to a trickle.
Someone shouted, and both masked men lunged for the weapon still in his hand.