Beyond Vengeance: Pacific Prep #3

by R. A. Smyth

  I know Hawk’s pissed at him at the minute, but honestly, Hadley’s disappearance could have happened under any of our watches. I’d be kicking myself if it happened to me, and I’ve seen the guilt in Beck’s eyes every day since we got back. He’s beating himself up enough for all of us. There’s no need to lay it on any thicker.

  Cam’s laidback, so he’s never been too bothered about having Beck join our group. After everything that happened between him and Hadley, I think he’d accept anything if it made her happy.

  West has been the most stubborn, but it's been good to see him opening up to Beck over the last few weeks. A couple of times I’ve come home and found them chatting in the kitchen over beers. I think it’s been good for him to have another person in his life he can talk to. They’re total opposites, apples and oranges, but they haven’t let that get between them.

  “So, it’s actually possible that Lawrence could have taken her back there,” Cam muses.

  No one jumps to respond to him as we all contemplate the possibility. I mean, it’s not impossible.

  “I have to go back there in a couple of days,” Beck eventually tells us. “I was planning on doing some snooping; try to find out if he was keeping her there.”

  “I still can’t believe you’ve been doing all of this for me,” West murmurs, still looking shell-shocked. “How have you coped, carrying that burden all by yourself?”

  “Hadley figured it out—”

  “Jesus Christ.” Hawk throws his arms up in the air, stalking back and forth across the apartment as his anger consumes him. “It’s like we don’t even fucking know her. What other secrets is she keeping?”

  Hawk grounds to a halt when he sees Beck’s expression, and the look he pins him with is fucking lethal. “What?”

  He hesitates before stating, “It wasn’t luck that she was able to kill that mercenary. She had all of the skills to do much worse to him.”

  “There’s no way.” Cam scoffs, but I can tell he’s not sure what to believe. “If that’s the case, why didn’t she kill my dad and run off years ago?”

  “Lawrence is her Achilles heel. He’s terrorized her since she was a little girl. All the attitude and combat skills in the world won’t help her if she can’t stand up to him psychologically.”

  ***

  The sound of the door crashing inward has all of us spinning around as Beck comes rushing in, a grim yet hopeful expression on his face.

  “I know where she is.”

  “What?”

  “How?”

  “Where?”

  All three of us fire off questions, not giving him a chance to respond. He ignores all of us anyway.

  “West!” Beck yells, waiting until he comes to join us in the kitchen. West’s clothes are disheveled and he smells musty, like he hasn’t showered in a few days. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t, and as I subtly sniff my armpit, trying to remember the last time I showered and took a nap. I reckon I probably look and smell as bad as he does.

  “What?”

  Beck’s gaze bounces between each of us. He looks as haggard as we do, with bags under his eyes and his hair sticking up.

  “She’s at the compound.”

  “You have proof?” Hawk demands.

  Beck grimaces. “Sort of.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” I bite out.

  “Last night I heard the guards talking about a recent challenge night they did. One fighter bested twenty of their older recruits.”

  “So? That doesn’t tell us anything?” I can hear the frustration in Hawk’s voice as he clenches his fists.

  There’s a glint in Beck’s eye and fuck do I not want to hold on to that look of hope he’s sporting. “The fighter was a girl.”

  No one says anything for a moment, and I can tell the others want to believe him too. I mean, our girl is one hell of a fighter, but to beat twenty trained professionals? Even I have a hard time believing that.

  “That doesn’t mean it’s her,” Cam says, albeit reluctantly.

  “It’s her,” Beck continues to insist, making Hawk throw his hands in the air.

  “You can’t fucking know that,” he snarls.

  Beck gets to his feet, coming to stand chest to chest with him. “It’s. Her.”

  “We need proof,” Hawk snaps, not letting the hope of Beck’s words get through his tough exterior. “We can’t go off hearsay. We need to see her for ourselves.”

  “The open day,” West reminds us. “It’s next week. We can look for her then, see if she’s there.”

  “She’s there,” Beck growls in frustration.

  I guess we’ll find out next week.

  If you are there, baby, hold on, we’re coming for you.

  Chapter 28

  “Do you really think she’s going to be here?” Cam whispers. We’re in the back of the car our parents sent to take us to the open day.

  “I have no idea,” I tell him. “I don’t even know if I want her to be or not.”

  My words are met with silence. We’ve heard enough from Beck to know the compound is not somewhere you want to be kept against your will, and if what he’s saying is true, that she grew up here, then it's a miracle that she not only made it out alive, but with her humanity intact.

  I can’t wrap my head around the reality of that. If Beck is right, then our girl is a motherfucking mercenary. Bearing that in mind, some of the things we’ve seen her do, and the way she behaves, makes sense—like her blasé attitude after stabbing Benjamin in the hand, and her ability to pick locks, and the fact she was able to kill that mercenary. She was the one that came up with the idea to dump the body in the lake—is that because she knew it was the best place? Had she done something like that before? My mind is a chaotic mess of questions as, with every passing minute, the car takes us closer to possibly finding her.

  When we’re officially far from civilization, we pull up at a manned gate. After the driver says a few words to the guard, the gate rolls open and we drive in, and a few minutes later, we crest a hill and see the compound laid out before us.

  There are a lot of other cars on the road, heading in the same direction, and when we pull up out front of the main building, the small car park is already full.

  We’ve already been warned to be on our best behavior today. None of our parents are here, preferring to leave the demonstrations to whoever is in charge of this hellhole, and they’ll wine and dine whichever rich assholes are interested in investing or making use of their services, but apparently being present today is part of our induction into the business. Just like Easter break, when I was forced to attend client meetings with my father. Some of them were for the legit aspect of our parent’s company, providing private security to government officials, celebrities, and whoever else needs it, but for the most part, the meetings involved discussing targets, negotiating prices for hits and setting realistic time frames—it was absurd. Like something you’d see in a movie.

  “Ah, you must be the up and coming heirs of Nocturnal Enterprises,” a slimy man greets, holding out his hand for each of us to shake. “I’m Major Bowen. Follow me, I’ll show you to the hall where we’ll be conducting today’s demonstration, then I’ll get someone to give you a tour of the facilities.”

  The four of us silently follow him through the bright corridors toward an auditorium.

  “What will today’s demonstration involve?” Hawk asks, miraculously managing to keep the contempt out of his voice.

  “The whole point is to show off to potential clients and future investors why we are the best. Our men and women are ruthless, because we push them to be. Today, we’ll show everyone our best fighters, as well as demonstrate our recruits’ abilities to handle various weapons. We’ll also have a number of recruits completing an obstacle course to show off their agility, speed, and flexibility.”

  Major Bowen leads us into a large hall. An assault course has been set up around the perimeter of the room, with a boxing ring in the middle. Off to the sid
e are various practice targets along with a variety of guns, knives, and even a crossbow, all of which are being carefully guarded.

  The room is nearly full as men in fancy suits consort with one another. There’s a thread of excited energy humming in the air, everyone keen to get started with today’s show.

  “I have ringside seats for you,” Major Bowen beams, directing us to four empty seats in the front row right by the fighting ring.

  While we take our seats, Bowen disappears off to attend to whatever else he needs to do and the four of us cast watchful eyes around the room. Everyone here is a criminal in one form or another—whether they own their own criminal conglomerate, are a dirty politician, or someone from a rival company here to suss out the competition.

  Not long later, the last of the audience filters in and Bowen comes to stand in the middle of the ring.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he begins, his voice booming out through his microphone, ensuring everyone can hear him loud and clear. “We are honored to be able to host you today. We have some excellent talent for you, which we hope you will enjoy. If you have any questions, or wish to discuss business further with our esteemed board members, come talk to me after the demonstrations.”

  With a brisk nod of his head to a guy standing ringside, he makes his exit and two large, male fighters, who look to be in their late twenties, enter along with a referee. As the referee starts the fight and the two of them dive in, tearing into one another with their fists, it’s clear how much they love the fight, the bloodshed. A gleam enters their eyes every time one of them lands a hit that makes the other bleed. It’s the most vicious fight I’ve ever seen; both opponents intent on killing the other in order to claim their victory.

  Both fighters give it everything they have, spraying the mat, and some of the audience, with blood as they land blow after blow, splitting lips and cutting open eyebrows. Neither of them wears mouthguards, and when the one facing me gives a toothy grin, blood stains his teeth red, only enhancing the maniacal vibe coming off him.

  Eventually, the guy facing me manages to get the upper hand, taking his opponent to the ground, and beating on him over and over until I’m pretty sure I hear his jaw snap. Only when the referee blows the whistle, calling the end of the fight, does the guy let up, glancing disinterestedly at his half-dead competitor, before looking up at the crowd and grinning madly with his red teeth.

  The audience claps and cheers as the guy heads off the mat, his unconscious opponent being dragged behind him.

  “What the fuck?” Cam breathes. “That was insane.”

  A couple more fights take place, and in the last one, I noticed the fighters were more our age, if not younger.

  “For this last fight, we have something special,” the referee tells the crowd. “Our best fighter fought twenty of our own people and won, so we’re going to give you a taste of just how capable she is.”

  She? I risk a glance at Cam beside me, taking in his tense posture as he leans forward in his seat.

  Four people step onto the mat and as the three large guys move to the edges of the ring, we all get a clear look at our girl. Hadley. I’m halfway out of my seat before catching myself and forcing my ass to sit down again. My fists are clenched tightly at my sides as I fight every instinct in me to get to her.

  I hear Cam gasp beside me, and a small commotion on his other side as Mason most likely stops Hawk from doing something stupid. I can’t tear my eyes away from her to look. She looks skinnier than she did before. Her face is sunken and there’s a hardness in her eyes I haven’t seen in a long time. She’s sporting the same armor she had when she showed up at Pac last September. I hadn’t realized until now just how much she had opened up to us, but seeing her all closed off again makes me furious that these fuckers have destroyed all the progress she’s made with us.

  “What the fuck have they done to her?” Cam growls, likely seeing the same changes I am. She looks nothing like the Hadley we’ve all come to know and love.

  “Are they going to make her fight all three of them at once?” I gasp, watching in horror as the three guys spread out around Hadley flex their muscles, stretching before lowering into a crouch.

  In the middle of the ring, Hadley does a slow circle, assessing each of her adversaries before settling into her own fighting pose.

  My hands firmly grip the sides of my chair as the referee blows his whistle and all three guys move in on her. Blood rushes into my mouth as I bite my tongue, preventing myself from screaming out to her when the guy behind her wraps his thick forearm around her neck.

  She’s fighting like a madwoman, trying to get out of his grip before he crushes her windpipe, meanwhile another asshole is slamming punch after punch into her gut. Somehow, she manages to get her legs up between her and the guy in front of her, kicking him away and using the resistance to push herself backward, knocking the guy choking her off balance.

  Once she’s free, she delivers several hard kicks to the guy before swiveling back around to deal with the two fuckers approaching her, clearly planning to tag team her.

  It’s a tense few minutes that feel like they last a lifetime, all of us sitting on the edges of our seats, watching with a mix of awe and terror as our girl works her way through each of her opponents, systematically taking each of them to the ground and ensuring they won’t be getting back up before moving on to tackle the next one.

  Finally she’s the only one left standing in the ring, and we all breathe out a sigh of relief. Unlike with the previous matches we’ve seen today, she doesn’t look victorious or satisfied with her win. She just looks empty, like the Hadley I love is no longer in there, but she has to be. We haven’t come this far to lose her now.

  As she’s swept out of the ring, Major Bowen announces the next demonstration, but I barely pay attention to the rest of the events as I stare at the spot Hadley disappeared from, my brain frantically trying to identify a feasible way of getting her out of here.

  Time seems to go by in a blur while I’m lost in my thoughts, and it’s only when Cam nudges me out of them that I realize everyone is getting to their feet.

  “Come on,” Cam urges. “We’ve got that tour now, it’s our only shot to get a note to her.”

  We rise to our feet as a young guard comes over to us. “Hi, I’m Drew. Bowen asked me to take you on a tour of the facilities.”

  “That would be great,” Hawk responds with a tight smile.

  “Great. What did you think of today’s demonstrations?” he asks as he leads us out the door where Hadley disappeared. This part of the compound is completely different from where we entered. The halls are narrower and darker, making them appear more ominous, causing a shiver to make its way down my spine as Hawk blathers on to the guard.

  “That female fighter was impressive,” Hawk tells the guard, inflecting the right amount of interest in his tone.

  The guard laughs. “She’s something alright. Between you and I, though, she’s got a real attitude problem.”

  “Oh yeah?” Hawk scoffs while I mentally praise Hadley for making these sick fucks’ lives as difficult as possible.

  “We’re quickly bringing her to heel, though.”

  “How so?” There’s a menacing growl in my voice—I’m clearly not as good as Hawk at hiding how disgusting I find this fucker—but the guy doesn’t even notice as a dark and twisted grin crosses his face.

  He shrugs indifferently, that small act enough to have me fighting back the urge to rip his fucking head off. “The usual methods. It took a few days to get a reaction out of her, but the Major is really good at his job.” There’s a sick gleam in his eyes. “Sometimes he lets us watch. There’s nothing quite like hearing a girl covered in blood screaming, to get your dick hard, right?” He laughs maliciously. “I just hope the rest of us get a turn soon.” Yup. This fucker’s going to die, along with everyone else in this godforsaken hellhole. I wouldn’t consider myself a violent person—I don’t relish in it the same way as the others�
��but right now, for Hadley, I’d happily embrace that darkness.

  Glancing at Cam out of the corner of my eye, I can tell I'm not the only one holding myself back from going apeshit on this disgusting cretin. His body is thrumming as he struggles to restrain himself.

  “We’d love to meet her,” Hawk says casually.

  “Ah, sorry, guys. No can do.” The guard shakes his head. “She’s a bit of a wild one, and we’ve had to feed her the last few days so she’d have enough energy to fight. She’s probably overflowing with adrenaline right now. Wouldn’t want her to lash out at any of you.”

  Fuck. There goes our only idea.

  The guard shows us around the compound. With today being open day, most of the recruits are contained within their sleeping quarters, but a few of the more trustworthy ones are working out, bouting with one another and generally milling around.

  “What’s in there?” I ask, pointing to a steel door. Beck was able to give us a brief rundown of the layout, and having drawn up a vague schematic based on what he could recall, I’m pretty sure that’s the interrogation rooms.

  “Interrogation rooms,” the guard confirms. “Nothing exciting. That’s where we’re keeping D—the fighter from this morning.”

  “She’s not out with the other recruits?” Hawk questions.

  “No.” The guard looks around before leaning in and whispering, “She actually managed to escape several months ago and we only just got her back, so she’s not allowed to interact with any of the others until we can get her back in line.”

  Hawk nods his head in understanding while Cam steps up beside the guard, throwing his arm around him. “You mentioned something about a fighting cage, Drew? I’d love to see that.”

  With a sleight of hand, he slips the guard’s pass out of his pocket, holding it out to me behind his back. Quickly taking it, I bend down, pretending to tie my shoe while Mason and Cam distract the guard with various questions as he leads them to the fight cage. Hawk lingers back with me, neither of us daring to move until the three of them disappear out of sight.