Entrapped

by Tl Reeve

  Charisma gave a polite smile. “My...” She hesitated. She liked to think she knew everyone in Window Rock, but sometimes, she could never be too careful. “My sister is expecting, and we’re vacationing together. God knows I told her to pack a bottle just in case, but you know sisters.”

  The woman laughed. “Do I ever. When is she due?”

  Charisma tried to mentally calculate a date. “January.”

  “Same,” the woman said. “Looks like we’ll be keeping the doctors on their toes this winter, huh?”

  Yeah, they sure would be. “I guess you’re right.” She drew her bottom lip between her teeth. “Okay, gotta be honest here. I am so lost.”

  The lady grabbed a bottle right in front of Charisma. “This one. It makes me feel alive and not heavy. It has extra Amino Acids and a boost of vitamins C and D. Also, even though the label doesn’t say it, it gives an extra lift of energy. If your sister is as far along as I am, she’s getting her nap on as much as possible.”

  Charisma had been tired lately. “Great. Now to just pay for these and run them back to our hotel.” She smiled at the woman. “Thank you.”

  The woman waved her off. “Whether it’s your first or your third, having someone to help you navigate those emotionally turbulent waters is a godsend. I’m glad I could help you out.”

  It was almost as if the woman could see through her lie and spoke directly to Charisma. “Well, I appreciate it. We could all use a little pep talk now and again.”

  “When you’re a mom, pep talks become your forte.” She gave a small wave. “Time to get these terrors home before they do some major damage.”

  Charisma chuckled to herself as she made her way to the self-checkout stations. See, you can do this. In a few years, you’ll be a pro. Yeah...in a few years. Until then, she’d take it a day at a time and just hope for the best.

  Or, you could just go home.

  Not going to happen.

  Chapter Two

  Gobsmacked, Royce stared after Charisma as she left their apartment with a fucking suitcases. He was thickheaded, not stupid. He knew she had no intention of just ‘visiting’ Penelope. No, he’d smelled her lie a mile away. His little Oasis had no intention whatsoever of going to any place within Window Rock.

  He watched the reflection of her SUV windshield flicker through the front window as she pulled out and drove away. He stood quietly, staring at the door, like some dumbass, expecting his mate to come strolling back in and tell him it was a prank.

  Delusions of grandeur, he supposed. He realized Charisma would never willingly step foot into their home again without being forced. “Fuck.” His growl rumbled through the apartment loudly. He didn’t care if his neighbors could hear him.

  He knew the damn walls were thin. Often, he heard the couple next door arguing, or fucking. Sure, Royce always chalked that shit up to his shifter hearing. Jesus. Fuck. What the hell was his damage? His mate just left him and all he gave a shit about were what his neighbors could or couldn’t hear.

  Goddamn, snap out of it.

  Giving his head a shake, he hoped to clear the cobwebs from his brain. It didn’t work. Royce walked slowly into the kitchen. He opened the fridge door and pulled his favorite beer from the door. Charisma always made sure he had it, and cold too.

  After twisting the top off, he chugged the entire bottle. The ice cold, bitter brew had his empty stomach cramping. When the bottle was empty, he unceremoniously tossed the brown bottle into the sink. It shattered on impact, spreading tiny brown shards of glass through the entire kitchen.

  Fuck it. He grabbed another one, twisted off the cap and began to down it. He then headed down the hall to the bathroom, needing to take a piss. He couldn’t step into theirs. Not with Charisma gone.

  For some reason, on the way out, he had headed toward their now empty bedroom. Drawers were open, clothes and shit were spread out all over. None of that affected him. What did bother him was the overwhelming scent of his mate’s pain mixed with the scent of her feeling of unworthiness.

  Dropping to his knees, the wolf, who was always just beneath his skin, rushed forward giving a long, sorrow-filled howl.

  The wolf was filled with pain.

  The man was enraged.

  Leaping to his feet, he tore the sheets from the bed, his claws slicing through the fabric like a hot knife through butter. He continued his destruction, ripping the queen-sized bed to pieces before he broke apart the furniture they’d purchased together. Picture frames were tossed against the wall, shattering on impact. Tchotchkes Charisma had brought to make their house a home were smashed on the floor. His heavy boots crushing the delicate porcelain deep into the carpet.

  The bedroom looked like a bomb had gone off, and still, Royce wasn’t done.

  Heading into the front room, he snagged the massive sixty-five-inch television from its stand and hurled it at the wall. It hit so hard, it tore open the sheetrock, the mark matching the one on his soul.

  In a blind rage, Royce demolished the room his Oasis was the proudest of. She always said when people stepped into the living room, it set the tone of the rest of the house.

  Royce set the tone all right. It now resembled a shit hole. Like his fucking life.

  Leaving the shambles of the front room, he headed to the kitchen where he proceeded to break every glass, plate, and bowl. Shards of glass piled up on the floor, and he ignored them, stomping over to the heavy kitchen table.

  Claws dragged through the heavy dark wood, leaving deep grooved marks. It didn’t satisfy him. He’d never be satisfied until he destroyed everything within the apartment, leaving it to dust and dirt. A man like him, willing to stomp on his mate’s fragile heart, didn’t deserve the comforts of life. And when he was done, he’d have none.

  A deep, vibrating howl filled the air. Royce recognized it immediately. It was the howl of a wolf calling for its lost mate.

  His wolf…it’d be howling for a long time and would never get a return call.

  She was gone.

  And he was the reason.

  He knew when he first saw her all those years ago who she was to him. His Oasis was young. She deserved to grow and experience life. Royce gave it to her, but he always watched and protected her from a distance.

  Taking a page from his Uncle Caden’s book, he made sure to mark her with his scent. He reinforced his scent, making sure he touched her every single time he saw her. Nothing she’d ever suspect and surely nothing anyone would ever suspect.

  He knew his little mate had doubts about them being together. She was round, curvy, like his Aunt Keeley. Royce worshiped her curves and became upset when she called herself chubby or fat. To him…she was simply the most beautiful thing in his world.

  The blackness he carried in his soul, thanks to the bitch he derived from and always worried about, but never spoke of, finally destroyed the one thing he’d been favored with.

  Gone.

  She was fucking gone.

  And he was alone.

  His vision turned to a red haze as anger he’d never experienced before washed over him. It gave him the strength he needed, ripping apart the heavy wooden kitchen table.

  It was when he broke the last leg, throwing it down, that his acute hearing picked up the creaking of the front door. He gave a warning growl. The wolf was feral, willing to attack whoever dared to cross into its den.

  “What the fuck, Royce.” Kalkin growled as he stepped fully into the apartment, taking in the destruction. His favorite uncle had his gun, drawn and held at the ready as he walked into his apartment. He holstered the weapon before reaching up to touch his ear. Royce knew what the older man was doing. He was either talking to another officer outside or to dispatch.

  “Get the fuck out,” Royce ordered, his voice deep and growly.

  “Whoa there, boy. Remember who you’re talking to,” Kalkin chided.

  “I’m not your fucking boy.” Royce clenched his hands, ignoring the bite of his claws when they punctured his
palms. “Last time I looked. You don’t have jurisdiction over my personal home. I won’t ask again. Get the fuck out.”

  “Where is Charisma?” His uncle ignored his demands. Royce could hear the underlying concern in the other man’s voice. It pissed him off. Did his uncle really think he’d physically hurt his mate?

  Royce’s growl was his reply.

  Kalkin quirked a brow. “I’m not leaving until I know where your mate is, Royce.”

  “Fuck you!” he snarled, enraged enough to leap at the older man and take his frustrations out on his uncle—the man who’d talked him into taking the damn undercover job in the first place.

  Kalkin snapped his fingers, and Royce took a menacing step toward the larger man.

  “Before you put yourself in a predicament you can’t get yourself out of, you might want to step back, take a fucking breath, and tell me where the fuck Charisma is.” The Alpha bristled, recognizing the threatening pose of his nephew.

  Even being blood-related, the other man’s wolf took all threats seriously and saw those making the threats as contenders. Kalkin wouldn’t hesitate to beat him into submission and oblivion. Even knowing this, Royce didn’t care. Nothing mattered because Charisma was gone.

  His wolf fought for control, willing to listen to its Alpha, even in its pain. The man, well, the man didn’t give a fuck. Royce knew if he attacked his uncle, he would be beaten into unconsciousness. Sure, it’d hurt like a motherfucker, but right about now being unconscious had its merits. Like he wouldn’t realize she was gone, and he was the reason. Royce took another step, then another until he was well within arm’s reach of Kalkin.

  “I won’t warn you again, Royce. Back the fuck off,” Kalkin growled.

  “It’s your fault.” He pointed at his uncle. “Always with your fucking machinations. Always wanting to be bigger and better than every other pack. Why? For what? For who? To prove you gotta bigger dick? Hearing how Keeley screams in pleasure while you fuck her, I’m sure you’ll win every time. You really don’t give a shit how your fucking plans affect others, do you?” Royce swept his hand around the room. “Take a fucking look. This is the outcome.”

  “Right now, Royce, my only concern is Charisma. Where is she and is she safe?”

  Royce snorted in disgust. “I knew you all hated me. I just didn’t realize how much ‘til you had the balls to open your sorry assed mouth and have the audacity to ask me if I’d hurt my mate.”

  “I don’t hate you, bo—Royce,” Kalkin said, his voice deceptively calm.

  “Jesus…you’re so fucking cold. Doesn’t anything ever touch you? How the fuck do you even have a mate? Or children for that matter? Are you the iceman with them? Keeley must love that, knowing nothing can crack that hard outer shell of yours.”

  Royce didn’t even see his uncle cock his arm back, all he felt was the pain of his big meaty fist slamming hard into Royce’s face. Another wolf’s knees would have buckled and gone to the floor. Royce wasn’t another wolf. He’d been trained by his uncles…all of them… and could stand on his own.

  Ignoring the blood of his split lip, Royce countered, hitting his uncle in the gut. It felt like his hand slammed into a brick wall. Not wanting to show any weakness, he ducked his uncle’s next punch and countered with another to Kalkin’s kidneys. His uncle grunted in displeasure and swept his right foot out, taking Royce’s leg out.

  He went down, but Royce did so fighting, taking his bigger, stronger uncle with him thanks to a well-aimed punch in Kalkin’s dick. They landed on the floor with a boom, then bounced. Kalkin, raging mad at the dirty hit, jumped on top, looming over him. Having watched his Alpha fight many times, he knew the man was well trained, but not above using dirty, street fighting to win.

  Royce was no different.

  Kalkin had the advantage in this position and used it. Royce blocked as many punches as he could, but Kalkin got in plenty. A couple even had his head bouncing off the floor like a basketball. His uncle also pummeled his belly.

  Royce was done being the punching bag for the family and for this man. Having wrestled in high school, he knew how to break a hold and gain an advantage. He wrapped his legs high on the other man’s waist, and twisted, throwing Kalkin off center. The look of surprise on the other man’s face as he landed on what was left of the destroyed coffee table at any other time would have made him chuckle. Now he just wanted to wipe the sardonic smile off the asshole’s fucking face.

  More than once his wolf surged forward, snarling and snapping at his uncle. Every time it did, Kalkin landed a solid, hard punch to the side of his head. Even in a fit of rage, Royce knew his uncle wanted to keep this a fight between men and not wolves.

  He agreed.

  If either one of them allowed the wolf to be free, it would be a bloodbath. He wanted to beat the shit out of the other man, not kill him. Just like he didn’t want his uncle to kill him.

  For an old guy, the fucker was strong, returning every punch Royce threw. They rolled around the destroyed living room, making it a bigger mess than it already was.

  Royce was tiring, and blood poured from his nose, his lip, and a deep cut above his right eyes. The next time his uncle went to block, Royce made his move, shoving his massive forearm under his uncle’s neck, pressing on his windpipe in warning.

  “She fucking left me,” he spat, feeling the urge to cry, but held it back, not wanting Kalkin to see his weakness. “Like it was just another day. And it’s your fucking fault, you bastard.”

  Royce pressed deeper, knowing he was cutting off his uncle’s air supply.

  Kalkin didn’t struggle or fight for breath; he simply watched him with pain-filled eyes.

  “Fuck…I fucking hate you sometimes,” Royce hollered before releasing his hold on his neck and moving wearily away from the other man.

  Kalkin Raferty was a wild card. He never acted how he was expected to, and he was unpredictable in his personality and his temper.

  The older man sat up, wiped the blood from his lip like it was nothing. He grabbed Royce, pulling him into his arms. “Too fucking bad, because I love you, boy.”

  Royce sat there dazed. Growing up, none of his uncles were overly affectionate. If anyone wanted hugs and cuddles, they got them from the females. Thankfully, Mrs. Martin was always around doling them out along with fixing his bruises and bumps. She softened the hardness his uncles instilled upon him.

  Royce knew his uncles didn’t have the easiest time growing up either. They’d told him about their parents and how they had been left behind in their wolf forms in a shelter. It was Mr. Martin who got them out, who gave them a home, respectability and a purpose. He hadn’t lied when he called the other man an iceman, he was, until Keeley came along. She eased the roughness of his uncle. Made him more human and loveable.

  Royce had wanted the same with Charisma, and he’d royally fucked that up.

  “I’ve lost her,” he admitted.

  “No, you haven’t. You’re going to get her back. I promise,” Kalkin assured him.

  Royce snorted before disengaging from his uncle’s hold and stood. “What, are you able to see the future now?”

  His uncle didn’t respond and easily got to his feet. “Can’t stay here tonight. Grab your shit. We’ll go back to the homestead. You can sleep in your old bed. We got shit to discuss anyway.”

  He wanted to say no. He deserved to remain there, dealing with his loss and the destruction he’d caused. It was his just rewards. His uncle’s stern face told him arguing would get him nowhere. Giving in, he made his way to the bedroom.

  “I think you cracked a couple of ribs,” Royce grumbled as he threw clothes he hadn’t destroyed into a bag.

  “Pretty sure the dick punch you gave me will render me unable to fuck my mate tonight. I think we’re even,” Kalkin snarled when he reappeared in the living room.

  Royce shrugged. “You always taught me to win no matter what. You got no one to blame but yourself. I’m sure if you tell your mate about your boo boo
, she’ll kiss it and make it better.”

  “I feel as if I should be truthful with you, boy,” Kalkin said as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Get it out of your head if you think you beat me. You didn’t. You’ll never beat me, and I let you hit me. Now, let’s get you home so Danielle can look at both of us and we can talk.”

  And like that, it was over and done with. Royce followed Kalkin to his waiting vehicle. He threw his duffle bag in the back before sliding into the passenger seat next to his boss.

  * * * *

  They walked into Danielle’s clinic and sat on the table ten minutes later. Danielle stood over a small bassinet, her stethoscope in her ears while she checked over the baby lying there. Asher Raferty-Lopez, Hayden’s and Nico’s son. Royce couldn’t believe the bond the pair had formed in that fucked up hole they’d been kept in, but here he was, and Hayden claimed the boy.

  Royce had heard of female Alphas, those who could match the strength and cunning of a male Alpha, but with Hayden’s softness and her insecurities, he hadn’t expected her to leap out of this whole situation and take it by the balls. As it stood, even though the injuries inflicted on her were still healing, she ran the lead on everything going on. It would be a long time before anyone left the preserve. The investigation was painstaking.

  Sure, they could have taken all of the files and done it in house at the Sheriff’s Department or the courthouse, but it was easier to run it through the center. The only thing being outsourced that Royce knew about was the computers. Jerome brought in a team of computer hackers from the FBI, and they were going through all of the files. Another team still scoured the warehouse for any other evidence not washed away by the monsoon. Every day their tasks grew harder.

  Danielle turned from the baby and gasped. “What the hell happened to you?”