by J. D. Light
When Darian stepped aside, ushering me into the dark hallway, I entered quickly, my mind already working with a hundred different scenarios, all involving getting Jax out of here. I was so busy trying to think of ways in which I could leave with him, and Wade could still salvage this fucking operation, I didn't realize the flipping situation in my stomach wasn't just from nerves. My intuition was screaming.
Too late, I turned… The side of my head exploded with pain and then I was out, still falling to the floor when blackness flooded my vision.
My head was throbbing when I came to, and I blinked open my eyes, squinting hard at the bright lights. I looked around trying desperately to get my eyes to actually focus on what I was looking at. Only one ear seemed to be working correctly, the other was ringing like a bitch, and my head was right there with it.
Was that a throne? The light on me was too bright, I couldn't see beyond the spots where they ended abruptly, almost like I was in a spotlight. The ground beneath me was the same dirt they brought in to cover the floor of the large, built on building that they used as an auction house, and my slow moving head, finally realized I was somehow right in the middle of the gladiator-like arena.
Around the side of the throne, a slightly familiar young woman appeared, and I realized I knew her. Landry. One of the chosen we'd gotten out just about a week ago. My stomach dropped. What was she doing back?
Another spotlight turned on, shining a light on Darian dressed in a toga as he walked up to the throne-like chair. Smiling evilly, he gestured to me with a sweep of his arm. "Meet Lane Whitley. FBI agent pretending to pretend to work for the FBI, but in reality, I'm the only one he was actually lying to. Hell, I never would have known he was right under my nose this whole time if it weren't for those assholes who kidnapped me." The petite woman sitting a few yard from the monstrosity of a chair cleared her throat, and Darian rolled his eyes. "And Brinkley."
My head was still foggy and aching, and I was having a hard time following the conversation, but I did gather that he knew I wasn't actually working for him against the FBI.
I looked around again, my vision a little clearer with this sweep. There were so many people in the crowd. More than the normal gathering of twenty to thirty during one of the auctions. This was closer to a hundred.
Were there really that many shifters out there that were just plain disgusting? The new unit was going to have its work cut out for it. I just hoped I got out of here so I could see it happen.
"He's a pretty good actor," Darian went on, sneering in my direction. "I'm definitely impressed with his performance. I was fooled for months. He could probably make a decent mate with the right incentive."
I stepped back just in time to dodge the arcing electricity coming from a cattle-type prod. "Who wants a chance to go first?"
Mating? Wait, did he know I was a chosen? The realization should have scared me, but suddenly, the weight of knowing there was a chosen who was going to be fighting shifters in a vain attempt at freedom was no longer one of the weights on my shoulders, and I actually huffed out a laugh.
It's me. Thank God it's not some other chosen. I can survive this… I think.
"How do we know he's chosen?" Somebody yelled from my left and I looked over to find five men and two women lined up against the wall.
My competitors/potential suiters?
Someone grabbed me from behind and I realized it was the man with the prod. I didn't bother trying to fight him off when he ripped the back of my shirt open, exposing my mark. Fighting him wouldn't do me any good. I needed to conserve my energy.
"Who wants to go first?" Darian asked, and I blinked to clear my head as much as possible before turning to meet the gazes of the people who thought they might get the chance to claim me and I borrowed my mate's smug smirk.
It didn't matter what happened right here. They could beat me until I had to be hauled out of here on a fucking gurney, but it wouldn't change the fact that none of them would get the chance to claim me. I already belonged to someone else.
I hope I get to see what happens to Darian when they find my mating mark.
A big guy who looked like he benched tanks for a living stepped forward first, his face serious. "I'll go," he grumbled, his voice every bit as deep as his size suggested, and I shrugged, taking a deep breath to center myself.
I'd fought bigger. Bring it on, asshole!
He was easy enough to handle, I just had to dodge those fucking battering rams he called fists. I was pretty sure if the guy ever connected with one of those things, there would be nothing left of me to mate.
The next two guys were a joke, and I honestly didn't understand how they even thought that this would be a possibility for them. I barely used any energy at all, but the woman who stepped up behind them made me nervous. There was something about the very calm way she watched me as she casually approached, that made me leery. Every bit of my instinct was on high alert with her, and I didn't doubt for a moment that she was a predator. It didn't matter if her animal was or not, she was.
I wasn't sure how that fight would have turned out. I truly wasn't confident that it would have been me standing in the end, but it never happened.
As she stepped closer, her eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head to the side, her gaze locked on my shoulder. "What the hell are you trying to pull, Darian?" she asked quietly, barely loud enough for me to hear, but the near constant rumble around the room started to die down in waves as everyone strained to listen to what she was saying.
Her eyes snapped from my shoulder, up to the man and his cheesy-ass throne, a clicking growl rolling from her throat. "He's already been claimed."
"What?" Darian demanded, standing quickly.
"Oh, that," I said, reaching up and gripping the collar of my ripped T-shirt and giving it a good tug, revealing my mating mark. "You mean this?"
Over a hundred angry faces turned on Darian, and I smiled.
The angry yelling had just barely started when I spotted Jax making his way toward the throne with a gun. I was so fucking happy to see him, and know that he was okay, it took me a moment to realize what he was doing, and when I glanced around, I saw two more agents closing in on the chaos.
My heart raced as he was engulfed in the crowd, and then I cringed as four consecutive shots rang out, and suddenly it was a stampede of shifters running away from the throne and I scrambled to get out of the way, scaling one of the faux stone walls that had been brought in to make the arena look old.
When the actual dust cleared, Jax was looking around frantically from the arena floor until he saw me, and then he was racing in my direction. I jumped down, meeting him several yards away. The embrace was bruising and perfect and I didn't care who the fuck was watching, I let myself cry out my relief as I did everything I could to practically become fused with my mate as he whispered something over and over in my ear.
"Thank God you're okay. Thank God you're okay."
"I'm fine," I told him, pulling back to look at him, surprised to find tears streaming down his cheeks as well.
"Dylan intercepted your SOS and sent those two in," he said waving to the two agents still standing up in the balcony area next to the now bloody throne, one with The Planner securely held in place with a strong arm wrapped around the man's throat. "I guess they've been stationed in town, waiting for the chosen extraction and the assassination order on all five of the auction house leaders since you came back from Purdy. They found me and the three chosen in the cellar first, and then they let me come help get you out."
I squeezed him as hard as I could, burying my face in his neck, so fucking relieved to know he was okay. "I sent the SOS for you. When Darian told me he knew you were an agent, I asked where you were, and he brought me here. I was terrified I was going to find you in that arena, so I sent for help. I frowned, pursing my lips in thought. "I expected it to be Wade who got my call.
"As protective as Dylan, West and Gabriel are of you, I'm sure Dylan rigged your alert so
it would send to him. I'll be sure to thank him when I see him."
I kissed him hard, forcing my tongue between his lips and groaning happily when he met me with hard demanding thrusts of his own. When we ended the kiss, I was breathless and hard and beyond fucking ready to get out of this hellhole.
I glanced back at the mess that used to be the five assholes that ran an auction house and bit my lip. It was finally fucking over. I could leave the house for more than just a mission I'd pretend I needed to go on, just so it looked like I was still doing other work for the FBI.
I could leave and never come back. I could settle down somewhere with my mate… or I could travel with him while he continued to work for them. I didn't care as long as I could bid this horrible place goodbye.
"Wade's going to be furious," I said, smiling.
Again, with that smug smirk. "Let him be. I'm quitting anyway."
"You are?" I asked, blinking into his electric-green eyes.
"Definitely. I have you now, and it sounds to me like you're going to be living in Purdy, Nebraska for a while. I've never been, but I have a feeling I'm going to love it."
"You have a thing for small towns?"
"I honestly don't care where we end up. Even if it's in the middle of the desert. If my mate's there, I'm going to be happy."
"Damn it," I whispered, cringing as warm, mushy feelings flitted around inside my ribcage. "You're being sweet again. I don't know what to do with you when you're fucking sweet."
He raised one of those superior eyebrows at me before swooping in and giving me another one of those lip-busting, rough-ass kisses that I loved, but it did nothing to stamp out the squishy feeling in my chest. If anything, it made it worse.
When he pulled back, I licked my lips, ready to drag him off to the nearest closet or hallway or hell, the fucking half wall would do.
"I love you," he growled, startling me into whipping my head back around to look at him.
"What?" I demanded, frowning. "No, you don't."
He sighed, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "Why do you always argue with me about stuff like this? You said the same thing when I told you I've wanted to kiss you since we met."
When all I did was purse my lips and stare at him with narrowed, eyes, he reached up, gripping my face hard, and pressing his forehead to mine.
"I don't care if you believe me or not. I love you. Now, you can deny it all you want and even take your time catching up, but you will love me some day, but never as much as I love you."
I huffed. "I already do love you," I said with attitude. "And it's you who can try catching up, but I don't care how long we live, I'm always going to love you more than you love me."
When his eyes lit up like I'd given him his Christmas present early, my stomach flipped, and I groaned, jerking him in for another blistering kiss.
No man in the history of ever could irritate the hell out of me seconds before making me feel like the most amazing person alive the way Jax Carter did, and Lord help me, I loved it.
***
Landry had been a decoy. She wasn't even a real chosen, just some girl who'd been infatuated with Darian. Some poor, stupid girl who'd thought she was going to win the man's affection by going through the entire chosen auction process, and then reporting back to him what happened afterwards.
Apparently, Darian had been tipped off that something was happening with the people who acquired chosen at the auctions when one of his cousins had been one of the ones to purchase a chosen and went missing. It hadn't taken much digging to realize he wasn't the only one who'd gone missing.
Being the only FBIer on staff, all roads led back to me.
The Planner––or his hired face––had remained remarkably quiet, though I guessed it was because he thought he had the upper hand since he had information we really needed, and we'd let him think that these last few days, but I happened to know that Meyers Andrews and his mate would be showing up any minute, and Meyers had never met a man who couldn't be cracked.
We were back in Purdy, and I'd been told by West that he was going to strip me down to my bare ass and roll me through the newly fallen snow before tossing me directly into one of the newly installed hot tubs if I apologized for drugging him one more time, and Dylan had promised to record the whole thing.
I still didn't feel like I deserved their easy forgiveness, but I wasn't going to be the idiot who called West's bluff. Especially because I was pretty sure he wasn't bluffing.
Jax came sauntering into the living room at the leap house with a sleepy looking Harris on his hip, and I thought I was going to overload on sweetness. Was there ever a more gorgeous man holding an adorable little baby ever?
I was at the point where my body had almost changed enough that I would be ready to actually get pregnant soon if I didn’t start birth control, but I wasn't sure if I was ready for a baby yet. A big part of me wanted to enjoy what I had with Jax for a while first, but looking at him with that gorgeous baby on his hip, whispering nonsense in her ear until she gave him a sleepy smile, I was seriously considering making one of those cute little suckers.
"Dylan, what's wrong with you?" West asked, suddenly, drawing my attention away from my sexy mate over to the couch where West was frowning at Dylan who was standing by the window.
We were all congregated to talk about adding the rehabilitation element to the agency/unit we were putting together. Others would be arriving soon, and I was a little nervous about the fact that I'd been volunteered to introduce the idea to the rest of the leap since Flynn and few others already knew.
Dylan jerked away from the window where he'd been crouching low in front of, peeking over the wooden sill. "Huh? Nobody." He slid not so nonchalantly into the chair beside the window, hooking his leg over the arm.
"Nobody what?" West asked, tilting his head to the side and giving our friend a sugary sweet look.
Dylan shrugged, pretending to be interested in his right index finger, picking at an imaginary hangnail. "I wasn't looking at anyone?"
"That's not what I asked you."
Dylan's eyes widened slightly, but he shrugged again before looking back down at his finger.
I glanced over at West, who was watching Dylan with a disbelieving smirk. "Okay," he said casually, before walking directly over to the window.
Dylan's eyes widened and he reached out, scrambling to grab ahold of West's shirt, but he missed. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to see who you're looking at out there."
"Nobody," Dylan insisted, finally managing to scramble up next to West where the man literally had his face pressed to the glass which was completely unnecessary since I could clearly see everyone in the front yard the moment I stepped up next to them.
Flynn was in the process of greeting three visitors with Ridley by his side.
"Who is that?" I asked, pointing to the only person out there that I didn't know. "I recognize Meyers and his mate Braden, but I don't recognize him."
The man was tall and fit with slightly longish hair and…
"Nice scar," West said, rolling his face around against the glass and leaving face oil smudges.
The man turned then, looking directly at the window, and we all three ducked down quickly, hiding much like Dylan had been before.
"You think he heard us?" West whisper-yelled, making his mate sigh from his seat on the couch where he appeared to be reading something on his phone.
Dylan eased up, peeking over the wooden sill again, before squeaking and ducking back down. "Damn! He definitely heard us."
"How the hell are the three of you FBI agents?" Gabriel grumbled, shaking his head and going back to his reading while Jax sauntered up, bouncing Harris on his hip.
"Dylan was staring at Scarface like an asshole," West said, pointing at our friend.
"Fucker!" Dylan said, smacking his finger away. "No, I wasn't."
Jax smirked, casually glancing out the window, and giving a head nod, presumably to the man on the other sid
e. "That's Renn. I thought he was retired."
"Retired?" Dylan asked, once again sneaking a peek, before frowning and leaning closer to the window like he was in search of something. "Why did he retire?"
The front door to our left swung open and we all turned quickly to find Renn standing in there, looking at us all with a raised eyebrow. "Burn out."
Dylan gasped when his eyes locked with Renn's, and West and I both looked at him before glancing at each other, no doubt thinking the same thing about that maidenly sound. West was the first to start laughing. I was the nicer person, so I held out a whole three seconds longer, but snot flew from my nose for my effort when the laugh finally broke free.
Jax gave me that stupid smirk, complete with that annoying eyebrow. "Sexy," he said dryly, and I rolled my eyes, standing and using the bottom of my shirt to wipe my nose.
"He's the one that called you Scarface," Dylan said quickly, pointing at West and effectively throwing him under the bus.
Renn glanced at West with his intense nearly purple eyes, but they quickly moved back to Dylan. "I know you," he said, ignoring the Scarface line. "Is your dad Max Young?"
Dylan swallowed hard before nodding. "Yeah. How did you know that?"
"I know everything about Max. I've spent years looking into his life, patiently waiting until he gets out of prison."
Dylan blinked, a frown marring his forehead. "Why? What the hell do you want with an old drunk?"
The smile Renn gave Dylan wasn't the least bit kind, and West and I immediately slid up beside him, our eyes pinned on the man who was starting to look like a threat to our friend.
Renn reached up pointing at his scar. "Because, he's the one who gave me this… and the reason a fifteen-year-old girl spent two years relearning how to take care of herself. When he gets out, I plan on returning the favor."
