by D. J. Heart
“It looks like it,” Peter says darkly. Cruz is a dead man walking at this point.
“So what are you going to do?”
“I’m taking a team and storming the place. We’ll hit them fast, take down whatever security they’ve got, and get Evan out. McCorkle will be taking them offline when we go in. I’ll call you once it’s done.”
Chad nods, wishing he could go with Peter. But he can’t. He’s hooked up to this stupid chest drain, and his arm is all but useless. He would be no help to Peter now.
“I’ll bring him home, Chad. I promise,” Peter says, leaning down and kissing Chad gently on the lips. Chad just nods, not trusting himself to speak.
Peter pulls up to his full height, nods, and leaves the room. Chad hopes he’ll be back soon.
***
Peter knows that using his best mercenary special forces team to take down an omega house is overkill, but he doesn’t care. He’s getting his omega back, and he’s using whatever he has at his disposal to make that happen. Leaving his driver behind, he takes the car and meets his men just a block away from The Virgin O.
He suits up, pulling on his tactical vest, gloves and gun holster, turning to his team. They watch him, ready to go the minute he gives the order. Peter is in battle mode, the alphas under his command responding to his energy, all of them hungry for the kill.
“Mike, you and your guys go in the front. Joe and Dave are with me. I want you to secure the hallway outside the omega quarters and hold it until I’ve dealt with Cruz. Are we sure he’s in there?” Peter looks to Mike, the alpha nodding.
“Dawn shows him logging on to the computer in his office twenty minutes ago, and he’s still active on the network. Surveillance is looped, and all alarms are offline. We’re ready to go.”
Peter surveys his team, the lot of them looking menacing in black tactical gear and enough weapons to invade a small country and nods.
“Let’s go,” he commands. They have the layout of the building, and everyone knows exactly what they are doing. There is minimal security though they can’t discount the possibility that some of the bouncers might have arrived early. This should be an easy mission though Peter is treating it as anything but until Evan is back in his arms.
They jog towards the building, Peter and his guys turning left, Mike and his turning right, each converging on their own entrance. The back door opens to Peter with a swipe of his new access card, courtesy of McCormick, the employee entrance leading into a barren but clean corridor. Joe and Dave, men he’s worked with dozens of times over the years, follow him, alert and guns raised.
Peter has the layout of the building memorized, moving at a fast pace down the empty corridors, his mind still and calm. He’s on the hunt and in his element. Cruz is going to regret the day he thought to cross him.
They make it to the bastard’s office without incident. Peter almost regrets the lack of bloodshed, itching to tear into his enemies with his bare firsts, but he knows that he’s letting his instincts get the better of him. He wants Evan out with as little fuss as possible. Every complication is a risk to his omega’s safety.
Peter, Joe, and Dave stand outside Cruz’s office waiting to hear back from Mike. Peter isn’t going to engage until he knows Evan is safe and out of harm’s way.
“We have the hallway secured, three security personnel incapacitated,” Mike notifies them, his voice distorted by the tiny speaker in Peter’s ear. That’s all Peter needs to hear before kicking in the door to Cruz’s office, the wood around the lock splintering under the force of his boot. The sound is deafening. Peter barges through the open door and rounds on his enemy.
“What the fuck—" Cruz roars, shutting up when he sees just what he’s dealing with. He’s standing, looking startled but not surprised. He knows exactly why Peter is there.
“Peter, I was just about to call you. I was just doing inventory of our new stock when—"
Peter advances, the alpha in him roaring to kill the fool who had the gall to steal his omega. To crush the life out of him. Cruz stops talking, taking a defensive stance. He lowers his shoulders, getting ready to charge, but Peter beats him to it. He barrels into the weaker alpha, landing a blow to the side of Cruz’s head that has him out cold. It’s far too easy to let him fall, stepping over his back and reaching around his neck, snapping it with a brutal twist.
He’s won. Peter feels feral and powerful, ready to meet any challenge. He grabs a knife from his belt and slashes it across the alpha’s throat, just for the satisfaction of seeing Cruz’s blood spurting out over the carpet. The scent is intoxicating.
Cock hard, Peter stands and slides his knife back into his belt. He’s won, and he’s ready to claim his prize. Joe and Dave bare their throats and step aside, submissive followers who pose no threat to him, and Peter ignores them as he stalks out of the room in search of his omega.
A hard kick and the doors leading into the lower level fly open, Peter rushing through, the prospect of having his omega back where he belongs making his balls ache.
Mike and his guys move out of the way when they see Peter, but they don’t stand down, moving back into place at full alert as Peter makes his way towards the door. Breathing in, the stench of omegas in heat making it hard to think, Peter kicks down the door separating him from his omega and moves inside.
***
Evan sits on his bed, Trick lying next to him, heat riding him hard and rendering him pretty much useless. Evan tries to offer comfort, but he’s not sure Trick even knows he’s there. It’s a bad day.
There’s a sound outside the door, almost like a bang, and Evan turns and waits to see if he can hear anything else. He can’t, and so he rests his head back down on the mattress.
He feels hot, his skin slick with sweat, his heat finally settling in. He wonders if the alphas in the VIP area will wait for him to beg, or if they’ll take one whiff of his scent and descend. Evan hopes that they’ll remain uninterested until he’s begging. At least that way the parody of choice and free will would be left to him. It’s not much, but it’s something he can cling to.
He wonders if Emily Davies got his message. With any luck, she listened to it this morning, but Evan knows that anything could have happened. She could be sick, or she could have deleted the message by mistake, or she could hear it and do nothing. Evan has no guarantees.
“You’re going into heat,” Trick says. Evan moves his head to stare down at the omega sharing his bed. Trick looks more lucid, and Evan wonders how he does it. How he forces the heat down like this, even just for a little while. It’s impressive as hell.
“I know,” he says, his symptoms nothing compared to what the other omegas in the room are enduring. He’s just hot and uncomfortable; they’re all on fire.
“Just, try to ride it. Don’t fight it,” Trick says, taking his hand. Evan smiles down at him, squeezing his fingers and nodding. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to ride his heat, but when—or if—it gets bad, he’ll try.
A loud crash echoes through the room, the sound startling him so bad that Evan falls to the floor. He gets up on his knees, grabbing the edge of the bed, and peeks over the edge of the mattress to see what caused the deafening sound.
His heart soars at what he sees. It’s Peter, standing in the doorway and scanning the room, his eyes narrowing when he sees Evan.
Evan watches as his alpha approaches, his gait determined and smooth, dressed in all black clothes with more guns that Evan can count strapped to his body.
Peter reaches the bed, eyes blazing with victory, leaning down to grab Evan when Trick—out of nowhere—crashes into Peter and knocks him right over. Evan stares, Peter on the floor with a confused expression on his face, Trick turning to Evan and screaming, “Run!”
Evan just stares, Trick looking horrified when Evan doesn’t obey. Peter stands, looking down at Trick with an angry sneer, his intention registering almost too late. Evan leaps up and stands in front of his new friend before Peter can land his blow, t
he alpha stopping himself just in time to prevent his fist from crashing down on Evan’s head.
“Peter, he’s trying to help. He doesn’t know who you are, please don’t hurt him!” Peter blinks, staring at Evan like he doesn’t understand what the omega is saying. It’s like looking into the eyes of a tiger. All Evan can see is the predator, Peter’s gaze focused and dangerous.
“You’re mine,” Peter growls after a few seconds, grabbing Evan by the neck and pulling him into his chest. Evan lets out a relieved breath, clinging to Peter with all his might.
“I’m yours,” Evan says, Peter’s bulky vest and guns making the embrace uncomfortable. Not that Evan cares. “I’m yours.”
“He’s your alpha?” Trick asks like he can’t believe it. Evan doesn’t look at him, the envy in Trick’s voice bad enough. Why should Evan get what every omega in this room has been praying for? It isn’t fair. Not at all, and Evan knows it.
Peter lifts Evan up and turns around, carrying him out of the room. They’re flanked by a bunch of alphas Evan has never seen before, and within minutes he’s sitting on Peter’s lap in the back of a van, finally going home.
***
Aiden’s phone rings, the number of the orderly he’s bribed to keep track of Peter flashing on the screen.
“Yes?” he answers, impatient. Chad needs to die, and he needs to die now.
“Mr. Tank has left the building. They found that omega they’ve been looking for, and he went to get him,” the orderly says. Aiden hangs up, kicking the wall.
Fuck!
But Aiden can salvage this. Evan was never the problem. Chad was. Once Chad is dead, everything will go according to plan. He leaves his apartment, getting on his bike and making it to the hospital in record time.
It’s time to end this.
***
“We got him out, Mr. Brand,” Mike says, his deep baritone calm and steady. Chad lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding.
“Can I talk to Peter?” he asks, scooting up on the bed.
“I’m not sure. He’s a little… amped up right now—"
“Chad, I got him,” Peter says, obviously having grabbed the phone right out of Mike’s hand. He sounds proud and satisfied, the alpha in him shining through loud and clear, even over the phone. It’s rare for Peter to let it out like this.
“Good. I’m so proud of you,” Chad says. “Can I talk to Evan?”
He waits, holding his breath.
“Hello?” Evan says, sounding tired and fragile.
“Hey, It’s me. Sorry I couldn’t be there to get you,” Chad says, Evan’s voice making him feel ten times better than the painkillers feeding into his I.V.
“Where are you?” Evan asks, sounding worried. “Are you okay?”
It warms Chad’s heart that Evan knows that the only reason Chad isn’t there is because he physically can’t be.
“I’m fine. I was in an accident on my motorcycle. I’ll be home in no time.”
“Good,” Evan says. Chad smiles, wishing he was there with them. He feels useless lying there in his hospital bed.
“I’m glad you’re safe, Evan. Can I talk to Peter again?”
Evan hands the phone back to Peter.
“Yeah?” Peter asks, his voice coming out a low growl.
“Are you going to be here soon?” Chad asks, the need to see Evan for himself and make sure that he really is okay intense.
“I want to take him home,” Peter says, Chad’s stomach sinks. The thing is, he gets it. Home is the safest place for Evan. It’s a veritable fortress, and as long as Evan is there, Peter and Chad can be sure that he’s safe.
“That’s probably a good idea,” he says, forcing himself to sound reasonable, even if he sort of wants to cry. Peter is quiet for a minute; the silence strained.
“We’ll stop by the hospital first,” Peter says, Chad not having it within himself to argue. He’s just grateful.
They end the call, Peter promising that they’ll be there in less than twenty minutes. Chad stares at the clock, willing it to move faster.
When the door opens, he doesn’t turn to see who it is. Nurses, orderlies, and doctors are constantly coming in to check on him, and the painkillers make it harder to stay alert than it should be.
“Hello, Chad.” Aiden’s voice is snide and hateful, and Chad turns his head with a confused frown. What the fuck is Aiden doing in his room?
“What are you—" he starts to ask, only to have Aiden jump into the bed and sit on his chest, pinning him. Chad’s chest feels like it’s being crushed, Aiden sitting on top of him like a crazy person. He tries to hit Aiden with his good arm, to dislodge him, but Aiden grabs his wrist and pins it down with his knee. No matter how hard Chad struggles, he’s trapped.
“This ends now,” Aiden growls, eyes hard as he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a syringe. Chad squirms and struggles but Aiden stays put like he’s rising a particularly pathetic mechanical bull.
“What are you talking about?” Chad yells, terrified. He’s no match for Aiden on his best day, and like this he’s like a lamb to the slaughter.
“Peter. I don’t know what you’ve done that has him so attached to you, but it ends today. He’s mine.”
Aiden sticks the needle on the syringe into the I.V. feeding into Chad’s vein, and Chad realizes that the alpha plans to kill him. With poison, like he’s not even worth a proper alpha’s death.
“Fuck you,” Chad growls, twisting his body so that Aiden loses his balance and has to steady himself with a hand on Chad’s chest. Chad bends his neck; jaw opened wide as he clamps his teeth down on Aiden’s arm. Aiden’s jacket is pulled up, the bare skin of his forearm exposed, and Chad can taste blood as he sinks his teeth into it.
Aiden roars, dropping the syringe and punching Chad in the face over and over. The sickening crunch of the bones in his face breaking fills Chad’s ears, blood filling his nose and mouth, choking him.
Chad pulls his arm free, Aiden ignoring the minor freedom, and reaches down to the bed where Aiden dropped the syringe. He doesn’t know what’s inside of it, but it’s his only chance. Holding the syringe tight, Chad lifts it up, Aiden hitting him again and again, and stabs it into the alpha’s thigh, pressing down on the plunger.
Aiden stills, sitting down on his haunches with a surprised look on his face as he glances down to see the needle and syringe poking out of his thigh. He looks from the syringe to Chad, a dismayed expression on his face.
“What did you do that for?” Aiden asks.
Chad blinks up at him with no idea how he’s supposed to respond to that. Not that he could, even if he wanted to. His mouth is filled with blood, and he thinks a few of his teeth have been knocked out. When he tries to close his jaw, it doesn’t cooperate.
Still looking surprised that Chad would defend himself, Aiden’s eyes roll up into the back of his head, and he tips backward. Chad lays there; Aiden draped over his legs, unmoving, gasping for breath.
How the fuck has no one heard all the commotion yet? This is fucking unprofessional, he thinks to himself.
After about a minute of choking on his own blood, fighting to stay conscious, the door opens. A nurse walks in, sees him, and screams. After that, it’s chaos, but the good kind where Chad gets the medical attention that he needs.
Wishing Peter had been just a little bit faster, Chad closes his eyes and lets the morphine pull him under.
***
Peter stares down at Aiden’s body, unable to wrap his mind around what has happened. Around the fact that Aiden thought that killing Chad would somehow end up with them getting back together.
It’s insane.
Evan takes Peter’s hand, pushing in close. Even with everything going on, Peter’s cock is still hard, the need to reclaim Evan only growing stronger.
Chad is in surgery—again—and Peter feels like he’s going out of his skin, the need to stay and wait for Chad competing with his need to take Evan and knot him until there can be n
o doubt who he belongs to.
“You want me to put Dawn on this?” Mike asks, coming up behind him. The cops have no doubt briefed him as well. Peter nods, not turning around.
Peter grabs Evan’s hand and turns around. Aiden is dead, and Peter is glad. How it came to this, he doesn’t understand.
“Let’s see if the doctor has an update on Chad,” he says, curling his arm over Evan’s shoulder and leaving the room where the police have left Aiden’s body.
***
Evan feels like he’s burning up, but with everything that’s happened to Chad, telling Peter that he’s in heat seems… insensitive. Besides, it’s not like Peter can’t smell it. He just has to be patient a little bit longer.
