AllFreeNovel
Share Us
There was nothing he wanted more than to snarl and tell Drey to leave. It wouldn’t do any good to snap at Drey. Mallen jumped into the Jeep, folding his hands over the headrest, deceptively calm.
Nick would have been furious if someone so dangerous was on the loose and mouthing Karen’s name to the cameras. However, Mallen appeared to be relatively calm, given that he and Jennifer had personally encountered the crazy human while in captivity. Nick would be pissed off and worried if it were him.
His inner turmoil was such that he couldn’t be rational and think of how to help the situation. He was already torn up because his male—his goddamn friend—made this happen.
Until he spoke to Greg, he knew he wouldn’t be able to say anything helpful. It was too difficult for him to think rationally because he was angry. The agonising betrayal he felt prevented him from saying a word.
He slid into the right seat and waited for Drey, who paused when he saw Mallen in the back. “I guess I’m driving,” Drey mused with a feral grin.
Mallen grunted and threw the keys in his direction.
It was a silent ride, filled with a deadly calm that he knew would be shattered in a fraction of a second if the prisoner was spotted. He didn’t blame them; he knew that the tension was so thick and that one wrong move from the prisoner could lead to a violent confrontation.
There was a seemingly never-ending loop of questions running through his mind. Was there a reason behind Greg’s betrayal? What was he thinking? How did he justify his actions? What did he stand to gain? Did he regret what he did? Like bales of hay in a breeze, questions tumbled around his mind.
When they came to a halt outside the prison, he was surprised to find himself feeling calm. Suddenly, both males became stiff. Drey cursed, and Mallen leaned forward, his eyes alert, his ears almost pinned back.
“What is it?” he inquired quietly.
He chose the electric Jeep since he didn’t want to reveal their location, and it ran so smoothly and quietly.
Mallen spoke with a stiff tone in his voice as he said, “There’s blood on the floor.”
“Can you identify who it is from?” he asked.
He had Josie and Drew in the security room today, and he wasn’t sure how to handle seeing Greg if either of them was injured. Before either of them could answer, his phone began ringing.
With an amused glint in his eyes, Drey turned to look at him. Right… a silent approach was no longer an option.
Seeing the security number, he quickly answered, “Drew?”
“Yeah, it’s me. I saw you approaching.”
“Thank God, do you know where the prisoner is?”
Drew made a noise of frustration in his throat. “He disappeared after he hit the security post, and we haven’t seen him since.”
“We’ve reached the post. The Alphas can smell blood.” Nick gestured with his hands, indicating they could move about.
Using the scent trail as a guide, Drey and Mallen followed it.
“Oh, shit!” Drew exploded. “We had Andy on guard today. Since he wasn’t supposed to check the front for another five minutes, he must have returned early.”
“Damn,” he heard Josie murmur.
When they opened the door to the guard post, Nick gripped the phone tightly. It was situated at the beginning of the slope leading to the underground parking spaces.
He feared what he would find inside the guard post, expecting the worst. He knew that the body had been there for some time, and the amount of blood suggested that the person had passed away and was beyond saving.
There was little hope that they could find any signs of life.
He stared unseeingly at his face as if he couldn’t acknowledge someone he trusted did this because this was the result of what Greg had done, and everything inside him protested.
“It was an opportunistic kill.” Nick sighed heavily at the receiver. “Drew, you were right; he came back early, and Howard must have taken advantage of the opportunity to get him out of the way.” He rubbed his face. “I just don’t know what to say.”
Did Greg intend to cause this chaos when he released him?
In his heart, a strong urge to yell or hit something was brewing.
