CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN - BIRDIE #2
Hog makes a rumbling sound under me. “By complicit, Axel means you’re on our shit list, Booth. You green light our discharge papers, you feed Reeves the intel we give you, and then you forget we exist.”
“No,” I say quietly. “There’s one more thing.
After we’re done, you wipe that lab off the map, or I’ll visit every omega rights action group, liberal news outlet, and anti-military campaigner on the west coast. I’ll become the damn poster girl of omega abuse by the military machine.
Hell,” I smirk, swinging my legs, “maybe I’ll do the cover of the next edition of Omega Allure in full camo. ”
“I’d buy a copy,” Colt calls from where he’s been relegated to the kitchen.
“I’d buy them all,” Hog growls.
“Kind of defeats the purpose, big guy,” Colt adds, “but I like your commitment.”
Booth agrees to our demands, but only after he’s heard Axel’s true report about his rut. Reeves’ betrayal leaves him seething, and he signs off with a stilted apology. I have no idea if he knows his adjutant was involved, but that’s a thread I’m hoping he’ll never pull.
Two days later, I’m driving back to the cabin in the pack’s old truck.
I don’t know where it’s been, but it smells like bleach and leather polish, and the engine seems to have had a tune-up, because it purrs like a jungle cat.
After repeated reminders to get in, get safe, and let the guys take care of the rest, I drop them a few miles away from the cabin, so they can approach it on foot.
It feels strange being alone in the truck - especially when it’s not plowing into a snowbank – but I keep my eyes on the road and my mind on the mission.
As I round the last bend, I take a deep breath and adjust the thick bandage on my neck.
It covers Hog’s bite, while also reinforcing the cover story that I was the pack’s chew toy during Axel’s rut.
Used and abandoned, I know that Reeves won’t be able to resist coming to retrieve his personal pet.
He’ll want to rub my face in the fact that I’m just a broken, disposable omega, while also solving the puzzle of why his experiment didn’t go to plan.
As I pull up outside the cabin, I slump out of the truck, a ballcap pulled over my muddy brown hair and a pharmacy bag tucked under my arm.
According to Axel, it’s the little details that sell a cover story, although he nearly scrapped the whole plan when I told him he’d have to strip the pearl blush out of my hair.
If anyone is watching -and Axel is certain they are – they won’t see a trap, but a battered omega who forced herself down the mountain to get medical supplies.
I limp to the door, acting as scared as I feel.
Despite the guys’ recon efforts, we have no idea if Reeves will even take the bait.
Although I can’t see how he’ll resist. Feeling as if I have a hundred eyes on my back, I fumble with the keys, almost tripping over the threshold.
I pause to breathe in the familiar scents of the cabin, but then quickly shut and bolt the door, just as any traumatized omega would do.
Drawing Hog’s knife and one of Axel’s backup guns from the pharmacy bag, I head straight to the attic.
It’s my turn to wait now, and I try to steady my breathing as I unlock the attic door.
My heart squeezes as soon as I cross the threshold.
Every piece of furniture is gone, the room stripped back to dust bunnies on the worn floorboards.
The guys warned me that they had cleaned out the attic, but it’s still a shock to see the room so bare.
Every trace of my time here – of Charlie’s happy place – has been removed, although I remind myself that all of Hog’s beautiful furniture is finding new homes with happy clients.
The room isn’t totally empty, since Axel left me a bag of supplies by the window.
I cross to open it, smirking at the bottles of water, box of ration bars, and the pair of military-grade binoculars.
I’m not sure how long he thinks I’m going to stay up here, but like a good gung-ho team leader, he’s planned for every eventuality.
I only lose my smile when I tug out the medical kit, because it’s a stark reminder of all the things that could go wrong with our plan.
But as Hog reminded me, I only have to do my part, and they’ll take care of the rest. Which means that now I’ve baited the trap, I have to sit back until the bad guys decide to spring it.
I don’t have to wait long.
Hog tried to prepare me for how it would start, but I still jump at the first muffled pop of his rifle. I don’t know exactly where he is, just that he will be somewhere past the treeline, picking off the enemy like the legendary hunter of gunmen that he is.
I take comfort in the fact that he’s in his element, but my palms are still slippery with nervous sweat.
It takes me three attempts to get my knife into the waistband of my jeans, but I keep my handgun drawn and ready, like they told me to.
And it’s just as well, because when the second and third pop of Hog’s rifle draws my attention to the window, I realize I’m no longer alone.
My heart lurches as I take in the alpha staring back at me from his rooftop perch.
I don’t know him, exactly, but I know his type.
He’s one of the faceless, heartless goons who take care of Reeves’ dirty work outside the lab.
Maybe he was even in the van with me before I was dropped off at the train station, bruising me up so I’d look the part of the damaged omega.
He might not have made the same kind of impression as Razor, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t hurt me.
As he thrusts the window pane open and I get a whiff of his rancid meaty scent, I feel my heart harden into a cold, calculating lump.
Even if he wasn’t dressed in black tactical gear, I’d know exactly what he was here to do by the taser in his hand.
Capture me. Maybe shoot me with fifty thousand volts if I try to resist. Roughing me up a little, goes without saying, because alphas like him don’t know any other way to treat a defenseless omega.
Except I’m not defenseless, and his eyes narrow as they meet mine. I smirk, and there’s a moment of perfect clarity between us as I raise the handgun. The asshole brought a taster to a gunfight, and now he’s going to die for underestimating me.
I point and shoot, the recoil of the gun taking me by surprise. Reeves’ goon tries to dive sideways to safety, but as Hog pointed out, it’s not easy to outrun a bullet that has your name on it.
He goes down with a thump, but I don’t lower my gun as I creep closer to the window. It’s only when he rolls off the roof – landing somewhere below with a thud – that I let out a shaky breath.
The snow has melted back to a candy-hard coating, and I stare at the long, red smear on the rooftop.
It’s hard not to think of Razor and the alleyway, but this time, there’s no guilt.
The man came to capture me, to drag me back to the lab like a stray animal, and I showed him why that was a very bad idea.
I slump against the windowsill, my eyes searching for another flash from Hog’s gun.
I suddenly feel an overwhelming urge to wrap him in my arms, and not just Hog, but all three of my alphas, even if there are still things to work out between us.
I can’t put a name on the yearning in my chest, but it’s shocking enough to steal my breath.
But a scuffling sound from below makes me jump back in alarm.
They’re in the house. I dash across the room, stopping at the door to check the lock.
As the guys have already proved, this is the sturdiest door in the house next to the basement, which locks from the outside.
No one is getting in here without a battering ram, and all I have to do is sit still and wait for it to be over.
But that’s not easy to do when a wisp of smoke sneaks under the door.
I groan, pressing a careful hand to the wood.
There’s no heat yet, but I can smell the fire now, and my heart leaps against my ribs.
In a compound where stray fires were common, burning to death in a locked room has always been one of my greatest fears.
Once it reaches the landing, the only way out will be by the window.
And that’s assuming the floor doesn’t cave under my feet first.
I take a deep breath, and gripping the gun tighter, inch the door open. I can immediately hear the crackle of flames, smoke drifting up the stairs that definitely isn’t coming from the fireplace. As I try to muffle a cough, a shadow flickers on the landing and Axel barks, “Back inside, Omega!”
I’d obey, even if there wasn’t a thread of alpha authority in his command. Because his voice came from below the shadow, which means that one of the bad guys is right out there on the landing.
I slam the lock in place and scuttle backwards, heading for the window.
I forgot to close it after taking out the guy on the roof, and I take a desperate gulp of the fresh, mountain air.
But my sigh of relief turns to a gasp of alarm as another figure appears at the window.
I bring the gun up a second time, but my hands start to shake.
Instead of another goon, it’s Colt's beautiful face staring back at me, streaked with camouflage paint.
“Colt!” I cry, quickly pointing my gun at the floor. “I nearly shot you.”
“You didn’t come close,” he grins, leaning forward to kiss me through the window.
I cling to him, even though it’s not exactly the best timing with armed gunmen crawling all over the house.
When he pulls back, he looks me over with obvious relief and holds out a hand.
“Come on, little bird. Time to fly the coop.”
I’d roll my eyes at him, but I’m too busy drinking him in as he helps me over the window ledge. He should smell like alpha sweat and warpaint, but as always, breathing him in is like licking sunshine from a candy bar wrapper.