Hell's Wolves MC: Complete Series Six Book Box Set

by J. L. Wilder

  “Were they armed?” the man asked him.

  “I couldn’t tell,” Harley said. “But there was something else.”

  “What’s that, son?”

  “Well, they were being followed by a truck,” Harley said. “And the truck was towing one of those trailers that farmers move horses in, you know? Except there were no horse snouts sticking out. In fact, I think I saw a woman’s face back there. I think they might have been holding her against her will and taking her into the woods for something...I don’t know... violent. Illegal.”

  “Mile marker thirty, you said?”

  “Just past the exit with the children's museum.”

  “We’ll send someone to check it out. Can I get your name?”

  Harley hung up the phone.

  Now, he had to get ready to run for it. When the cops showed up, it was likely that the Death Fangs would scatter. Some of them would likely come running to the road, and Harley didn’t want to be anywhere near here when that happened. Nor did he want the police to see him and connect him with the phone call they’d received. That could lead to questions, that he didn’t want to answer, once they realized what was really going on in that clearing in the woods.

  He threw his leg over his bike and revved up the engine, dialing a number on his phone as he did so.

  A moment later, Mark answered. “Harley?”

  “It’s done,” he said. “They’re on their way.”

  “Good. Get out of there.”

  Harley threw his bike in gear and accelerated down the highway, leaving the auction behind him. His part in this adventure was done, and now, he could go back to his omega and their children. Now, he could go back to the safe and secure life they’d be able to have together, now that the threat of the Death Fangs was about to be removed.

  He could only hope that both his brothers’ parts in this would go as smoothly as his own had. Let them make it home safely, he thought. Let us all be together again.

  AS SOON AS HE’D RECEIVED Harley’s phone call, Mark went into action.

  Tracking the location of the Death Fangs’ home hadn’t been easy, and Mark had hated to be the one to do it because he felt it was the least dangerous job of the three. After all, most if not all, the Death Fangs themselves would be at the auction right now, which meant their homestead would be relatively unguarded. But he was the best tracker. No one had really questioned that he was the best man—the best wolf—for this job.

  Maddy had been able to give him some pointers. She remembered roughly how far away from the auction site the house had been, and she said she thought it was to the east of the city because she remembered being in the exercise yard and seeing the sun go down over the Portland skyline.

  Mark followed the scent of wolf and omega. It was heavy in the air near the auction site, but it quickly thinned until there were only a few threads. He prowled, sticking to the woods as much as he could, emerging onto the highway when he needed to. As long as there was even the thinnest trail of scent to follow, he would be okay. He would get this done.

  And then, miraculously, the scent began to grow heavier. More powerful. It accumulated faster and faster, like falling snow, until it surrounded Mark entirely. He was in the right place; he knew he was—

  He looked up.

  It was the house Maddy had described. Brown exterior, nondescript. A large detached shed in the back of the massive property.

  Big enough for cages.

  He shifted, dropped his mouthful of jeans, and took out his phone.

  “Portland Police Bureau,” said the desk sergeant, who had already had quite an exciting morning

  “I’m about a mile outside of town,” Mark said, and quickly read off the address on the house’s mailbox. “There’s a big shed in back of this place, and I heard screams. Human screams. I think someone’s locked in there. I think the police need to check it out.”

  The sergeant read back the address.

  “That’s it,” Mark said. He hung up before the sergeant could so much as ask him for his name.

  He knew he needed to leave, but he wanted to make sure. He wanted to know that he’d found the right place and that the women and girls who were captive here were going to be okay. He wanted to see for himself that the Death Fangs’ power had been broken. So, he crossed the street, shifted back into wolf form, and sat down to wait. Hopefully, if the police saw him they would think he was just a German shepherd who lived in the area.

  It seemed like a very short time later that they came tearing up the street, sirens wailing and lights flashing. They jumped out of the cars and several of them went up onto the porch and knocked at the door. The rest went around back.

  Not five minutes later, they returned, expressions of shock and revulsion on their faces. Clustered among them were dozens of women and girls, the oldest in their early twenties, the youngest probably no more than four or five.

  Satisfied that the police would take matters from here, Harley snatched up his pants again and began the trek back to the place where he’d parked his bike. Mission accomplished, he thought happily. If any of the Death Fangs did manage to escape the site of their auction, they were in for a bad surprise when they got home.

  WHEN THE POLICE ARRIVED at the auction site, the barn door swung open with a bang. Jamie, standing in the woods behind the barn, heard it and knew, at once, that what they’d worried about had been true. The Death Fangs were trying to cover up the evidence. They were trying to move and hide the women.

  The problem was, Jamie had gotten there first.

  “This way,” he hissed, and waved them forward. He could make out the flashing lights of police cars all along the dirt road leading back to the highway. He led the omegas back and back, further and further, toward the highway, until they reached the very last car in the line.

  He pointed. “Go,” he said.

  “What about you?” one of the women whispered.

  “I’m right behind you.”

  He stood there in the woods and watched as they emerged onto the dirt path, watched as the police officer who’d been stationed at the back of the line noticed them and called out to his counterpart. He watched as the women were looked over for injury and helped into the police cruisers. He watched until he was sure they were safe.

  Then, he turned and ran.

  It was time to go home to his family.

  “SO, EVERYTHING’S TAKEN care of,” Mark concluded, cradling his daughter in his arms and tickling her stomach. She smiled up at him in a way he couldn’t help interpreting as adoration, even though he knew it was probably just gas. “The police rounded up the Death Fangs. They don’t know anything about them being shifters, of course, but it won’t matter, because they were obviously holding a bunch of women prisoner. They’re all going to be locked up, probably for life, unless some of them figure out a way to cut a deal.”

  “And it won’t matter even if they do,” Jamie said. “They’ll lose too many numbers overall. They’ve lost all their resources. They were a dominant pack because there were so many of them and because they controlled the omegas. Now, they don’t have either advantage. If any of them do walk, they’ll just have to go and fend for themselves.”

  “Do they know we were involved?” Maddy asked.

  “I’m sure some of them have guessed,” Harley said. “But they’ve got no way to know for sure.”

  “I can’t believe you did it,” Maddy said. “I was so afraid for you. The whole time you were gone, I didn’t sleep at all. I was terrified I’d wake up and you still wouldn’t be here, or that Amy would come and tell me you were ten hours late or something, and I’d know what that meant...I wouldn’t have been able to keep myself from going after you.”

  “You would have had to,” Mark said seriously. “For the babies. That’s why we gave you the command, Maddy. So, you wouldn’t have to make a choice if things went that way. So, you wouldn’t be here taking care of our children and wondering if you’d done wrong not to come with
us. We didn’t want you in any doubt about what we would want if things didn’t go the right way.”

  “Okay, well,” Maddy said, “maybe, just don’t piss off any more huge, violent gangs for a while?”

  Harley laughed. “No promises.”

  “It’s a good thing, everything that happened,” Jamie said. “We’ve changed the world for omegas, haven’t we? The Death Fangs were definitely the biggest omega dealers in this part of the world, and we’ve shut that down. It’ll probably be a while before the news really gets out, but when other shifter packs hear, they’ll rest a little easier knowing their daughters are safe from kidnappers.”

  “Where will people get their omegas now, though?” Maddy asked.

  “It’ll have to start working the other way,” Mark said. “The omegas will find the alphas. Not every alpha will get one. But there have never been enough omegas for every alpha, and this way, it won’t be based on cruelty or money. It’ll be based on what the omegas want. That’s got to be better.”

  “If this had happened five years ago,” Maddy said, “it might have meant your bloodline ended with you. If you couldn’t find an omega to mate with, you wouldn’t have been able to pass it down the way you wanted to.”

  “Some things are more important than purity of blood,” Mark said.

  Harley nodded in agreement.

  Jamie put the baby he was holding back into his bassinet, sat on the bed, and put his arms around Maddy. “The most important thing is family,” he said. “All of us together, whether alpha with omega or not. The most important thing is that we love each other.”

  Harley and Mark each took one of Maddy’s hands, and she closed her eyes and felt at home in their love.

  Omega’s Second Chance

  Chapter One

  WESTON

  It was strange to think that there had been a time when Weston had been proud to be a member of the Hell’s Wolves.

  And yet, that time hadn’t been so long ago. The memories themselves were easy enough to recall. He could remember long rides in formation with the other members of the pack and the feeling of power and inclusion that came with being noticed by outsiders. He could remember shifting into wolf form with a brother or two at his side, moving through the forest around their cabin as if it belonged to him, and feeling that it did. And then there was the day he’d gotten his colors sewn onto his jacket, and the Hell’s Wolves tattoo on his bicep. On that day, he had ceased to be a child and had become a full-fledged member of the pack. He had thought nothing could ever make him happier.

  But things had changed since then. The pack wasn’t the same as the one he’d grown up in. It probably never would be again.

  He sat on the front porch of the cabin, spinning the cap of his whiskey bottle on the boards as if it were a coin, watching it fall again and again between long pulls. The sun was setting, and it wouldn’t be long before someone came out to bring him back inside the cabin, he knew, but he was going to stay out here as long as he could. He wasn’t going to go back in and listen to what Hawk had to say.

  “You’ve been out here for hours,” said a voice.

  Weston looked up. Robbie stood over him looking down, an expression of concern on his face. He had probably been sent by Hawk, Weston knew. But he couldn’t really complain. If someone was going to be sent out to talk to him, Robbie was probably the best choice.

  Of course, Hawk almost certainly knew that and was using their friendship to his advantage. But never mind.

  Weston slid over on the porch and made room for Robbie to sit beside him. Robbie extended a hand for the bottle, and Weston allowed him to take it.

  Rather than take a drink, Robbie held the bottle up to the fading light and examined the level of the liquid within. “You’ve really put a dent in this,” he commented.

  “It wasn’t full when I started.”

  “I saw you take it out. It hardly had a shot poured off the top.”

  That was true. Weston said nothing.

  “You know we worry, don’t you?”

  “Who does?”

  “All of us.”

  “Not Hawk.”

  Robbie rolled his eyes. “Well, Hawk doesn’t worry about anyone. He’s just concerned there won’t be enough liquor to go around later if he wants some.”

  Weston had to laugh.

  “But the rest of us,” Robbie went on. “Norma especially.”

  That hit him. Robbie had surely known it would. Norma was the last remaining member of the generation above their own. After Karl, her husband and the pack’s last alpha, had died several years ago, there had been a sort of exodus. Only Norma had stayed, and Weston knew the reason she had done it had been to help look after the remaining members of the pack. She was the closest thing he had to a mother.

  It didn’t feel good to hear that he was making her worry.

  “I’m fine,” he said to Robbie. “There isn’t anything to worry about.”

  Robbie, to his credit, let that statement hang in the air and said nothing. They both knew what the answer would have been. You’ve finished almost this entire bottle of whiskey in less than an hour.

  And what if he had? Yes, it was a lot, but Weston was young and healthy and heavily built, his body thick with muscle. He probably weighed more than most of the other members of the Hell’s Wolves. And that meant he could drink more. It stood to reason.

  He reached over and took the bottle back from Robbie. Robbie frowned, but he allowed Weston to take it. Weston took another long drink and stared pensively at the setting sun.

  “I’ll lay off it a little,” he said finally, not sure whether he meant what he was saying or whether he was simply trying to get his friend off his back.

  Robbie seemed to take the statement at face value. He nodded. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “Some days I feel like drinking everything in sight too. But you know. That’s not going to fix anything.”

  “Nothing is going to fix anything,” Weston pointed out.

  “Well, fuck, downer.”

  “I’m not being nihilistic. It’s just the truth. It’s not like hard work and a sunny disposition are going to get the pack back on track.”

  Robbie sighed. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Karl would be disgusted with us.”

  “You don’t think Karl saw this coming at all?” Robbie asked.

  “I have to believe he didn’t.” Weston shrugged. “If he had known, wouldn’t he have done something to help? Wouldn’t he have...”

  “Have what?” Robbie asked. “He couldn’t do anything about it. The alpha ceremony set things in stone.”

  “He could have challenged Hawk.”

  “Hawk would have killed him, and you know it.” Robbie took the bottle back. This time he did take a drink. “Anybody who tries to challenge Hawk is going to have to fight him to the death because Hawk will never accept a loss of power as long as he’s able to draw breath. He’ll keep fighting as long as he can get his feet under him.”

  Weston chuckled humorlessly. “You’d think that would be a good quality to have in an alpha.”

  “Yeah, well.” Robbie passed the bottle back. “All of Hawk’s good qualities seem to turn out bad in him. He’s ambitious, driven, confident...those could be good things if you were a good person. But he’s a shit.”

  “Watch what you say,” Weston warned. “If he hears you talking like that—”

  “If he hears me talking like that, he’ll probably make a rule that no one is allowed to badmouth the alpha.” Robbie nodded. “He’s done worse.”

  That was certainly true.

  “Did he send you out here to bring me in?” Weston asked.

  Robbie nodded. “No point lying about that, I guess.”

  “Not really.”

  “He says he wants you running point in the thing tomorrow.”

  The thing. They both referred to Hawk’s assignments this way. It was easier to talk about the thing than about holding up a family-owned liquor store for
cash. Weston hated to think about the owners of the stores they robbed, but he couldn’t help it. The way they looked at him when he held a gun on them and forced them to empty their registers...that was money they had been planning to use to feed their children, probably. Liquor store owners and gas station attendants were not rich people. He wondered how many kids he’d sent to bed hungry in the last few years.

  It was horrific enough that they had to do these things. Thinking about them beforehand would only make it worse.

  Weston took another long swallow of the liquor. “Guess I better go get my instructions,” he said.

  “Yeah, you better.”

  “Karl would really hate this.”

  Robbie nodded. “I really hate it too.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” But they were stuck, good and proper. An alpha’s word was law, and Hawk was the alpha of the Hell’s Wolves. Weston had no choice but to follow his orders.

  He dragged his feet reporting in. Hawk would be in the den at this time of night, so Weston went to the kitchen first. He took another drink from his bottle before hiding it at the very back of the freezer, hoping it wouldn’t be found by any of his packmates. Then he went into the fridge and found half a brick of cheese. He cut it up slowly into slices, taking as long as he could about the task. Until he had actually heard his orders, it was possible to imagine getting out of what was to come.

  Eventually, though, he could put it off no longer. He put the cheese on a plate and went into the den to talk to Hawk.

  As usual, the den was thick with cigarette smoke. Hawk was lying on his back on the couch, trying and failing to blow smoke rings. His two closest associates, Gino and Rick, sat in armchairs at either side of him. As Weston entered the room, Gino lit a new cigarette from the slowly dying butt of the old one and inhaled deeply.

  “You wanted to see me?” Weston asked.

  “Weston. Come in.” Hawk didn’t bother to sit up. “We need to go over the plan for tomorrow.”

  He knew it was hopeless, but... “I’d like to request permission to be left out of this one.”