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By the time I get back to the packhouse, I have ten missed calls from Maddox and a shitton of text messages demanding that I call him immediately.

I don’t.

Instead, I drag Danielle through the garage and into the little hidden door, down a flight of stairs and into my workroom. I flick on the lights and survey my options.

I don’t use this room that often.

Maddox prefers if I do my business in places not so intrinsically tied to our pack. But this is a special occasion, and I want to be close to Sadie. I want to tell her what I figure out right away.

A giddy thrill of excitement moves through me as I flick my gaze back and forth between the metal table and the metal chair. Both have straps to hold down my victims. Both have drains under them for easy cleanup.

I briefly look at the hook dangling from the ceiling and consider hanging Danielle, but just in case Maddox is right and Sadie doesn’t want me to full on torture her mom, I dismiss it.

Chair it is.

I get the older woman situated, strapping her in tight enough that I know her fingers are going to turn a little blue. It’s fucking perfect, honestly. Start her out with a little discomfort right away.

By the time Danielle is situated just how I like, she’s beginning to wake. Eyes fluttering as disgruntled groans sound from her chest.

Damn, I am so fucking good at this. Have my dosage amounts just right, my timings down to a fucking science.

She shifts in the chair, head bobbing just the slightest bit as she comes to.

I sit quietly, waiting for her to realize that something is not right. This is my favorite part, if I’m honest, when they’re groggy and confused, when they have no clue what just happened or any idea of what’s happening next. That sweet moment when it all comes flooding back and their panic hits them.

I grin when Danielle jerks, tugging at her bonds, a terrified whimper pulling from her chest as she realizes she’s not going anywhere.

My low chuckle sounds through the room and her head shoots up, latching onto me with terrified eyes. I hold steady, meeting her gaze with my head tilted and my wide smile in place. Doesn’t help. She still flinches away from it, seeing the baring of my teeth for what it is. A threat.

“I thought meeting my girl’s mother would be under different circumstances,” I say, pushing away from where I’m leaning against my workbench. “I was thinking we might go out to dinner, and I’d ask for permission to court Sadie. Not that I need it. She’s mine and always will be, but you know, I thought I’d be polite and shit.”

“S-Sadie?” She stutters out. “What does my daughter have to do with anything?”

I ignore her question and stalk toward her. “But you had to ruin it by being an absolute garbage mother, didn’t you?”

She blinks those wide blue eyes at me. “W-what? I don’t understand what’s happening. Why are you doing this?”

I bend over her, bringing my face close to hers. “You fucked up when you hurt Cherrybomb.”

She shudders, her terror like a fine wine spilling into the air, making my inner beast fucking delighted. This is going to be so much fun. Then, like I summoned her by saying her name, the scent of cherry pie reaches my nose, a second before Sadie’s sweet voice says, “Swift, what the hell are you doing?”

Chapter 19: In which I get some answers, but none that I like

When Maddox suggested I come down to see what Swift was up to, I didn’t expect this. Even though I probably I should have.

Especially since, as he guided me into the elevator and into the garage, the prime alpha made a comment about me trying to keep Swift under control, to rein him in. On the heels of the earlier revelations, of course, Swift went to find my mother. Of course, he kidnapped her. He’s a few screws short of a set… No, that’s not the saying.

But you get what I mean, right?

He probably expects me to be grateful for this.

Wait. Holy shit. Am I grateful for this?

My earlier conversation with my mother had been frustrating as hell, full of non-answers and gaslighting. I don’t think she’ll be capable of that here.

I think I might be glad for this opportunity to get some actual answer from her.

Swift whips his head in my direction, and a wild, feral grin spreads over his face. “Cherrybomb,” his voice sounds chiding even though he grinning like a loon. “You’re spoiling the surprise.”

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