This could easily have been my story. Luke chose a woman identical to me and tortured her for absolutely no reason.
If I hadn’t escaped, I would have turned out exactly like Jessica.
“Do you think Luke suspects that you left?” Jude says.
“He’s probably high by now,” Jessica says. “He took a lot of oxy. He’s paranoid.”
Knox turns to the mayor. “Call the team. We need to move now.”
The drive to the Starlight Motel is silent. No music. No talking. Just Knox trying to follow the police cruiser without drawing attention to us.
The motel is a dump, a single-story L-shaped building near the highway. The sign flickers, buzzing in the cold air.
Knox kills the lights on the truck a hundred yards out. We coast until the tires crunch on the gravel.
We pile out. I stay back near the truck with Jude and Eli, my heart beating so hard I feel sick.
“Fallon, Knox,” Eli breathes out. “Be careful.”
They nod and melt into the shadows alongside the uniformed officers.
I watch. I hold my breath.
Minutes tick by. The wind whistles through the cracks in the motel doors. Then, a shout. A crash of glass breaking.
“Police! Get on the ground!”
Gunshots. Two of them. Loud, cracking sounds that make me scream.
“Eli!” Jude grabs me, holding me back.
They drag him out a moment later.
Luke looks terrible. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks. His face is gaunt, his eyes wild and red-rimmed. He’s struggling against the handcuffs, screaming profanities, kicking his legs.
“You bitch!” he yells, his eyes finding me instantly in the dark. “You think this is over? I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you and that bastard brat!”
He spits on the ground, thrashing against the officers holding him.
“Shut up,” one of the officers says, shoving him into the back of the cruiser.
He keeps screaming, his voice muffled by the steel, but the words are clear. “It’s not over! You’re mine! You’ll always be mine!”
They slam the door.
The silence that follows is the loudest thing I’ve ever heard.
The officer in charge walks over to us. He takes off his hat, wiping sweat from his forehead.
“He’s going away for a long time,” he says, looking at me. “Attempted arson. Possession of a firearm. Violation of bail. Possession with intent to distribute. He’s not seeing the light of day for a decade, maybe more.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“He won’t touch you,” Knox says, coming up behind me. He puts his hands on my shoulders, grounding me. “He can’t hurt anyone anymore.”
I look at the motel room door, hanging off its hinges. I think about Jessica, sitting in that police station, terrified for her baby. I think about the fire at the café. I think about the years I spent running.
I look at my Alphas. Knox, with his fierce loyalty. Fallon, shaking adrenaline off his hands. Eli, watching me with soft, worried eyes.
