It has to be me.
Even standing in the doorway of our pack nest, I know without a shadow of a doubt that I need to do this. Vivian's bond rests peacefully, and for the first time, I realize I can't see my other mates' auras. I want to wrap myself in them and never let go.
Maybe a better man would kick his boots off, put the knife and gun back in the safe and curl up with his pack, but I've never pretended to be a good person.
A better man wouldn't have lied to Kade about why I wanted Trent's phone number. I should have been honest and told them I couldn't live with myself if I didn't bring the chapter to a close.
But what then? They would have demanded to help or told me no. I didn't see any other choice and thankfully Trent speaksmy language for the most part. He's a very helpful man when he's not guilt-tripping me about hiding shit from my mates.
This is my job, my contribution to my pack. I need to make sure we're free from the threat against my omega.
I've killed for less than what this trafficker has done. For people I didn't know. This is so much more than that. Everything I'm about to do is about keeping my family safe.
I've never had people to love. Now that I do, and know what it's like to be loved inside and out, the drive to protect is stronger than it's ever been.
How many times did Silas bend over backwards to make everyone else feel better because their mate was kidnapped?
Jarek has been struggling to manage all the bonds even after our mating, all because he was determined to connect with Vivie on a new level while she was in captivity.
Kade...Fuck, how often does he beat himself up over the fact that he didn't protect his omega when it mattered most?
And me...I watched my scent match, the woman I love, be torn down by evil men.
We deserve what I'm about to do. My only regret is not saying goodbye.
Slipping out of the house undetected was easier than I thought it would be. On the jog to Trent's truck, I half expected one of my mates to hunt me down and tackle me. That never happened.
Even as I'm about to hop out of the passenger seat on the outskirts of Billings, Montana, I can't help but feel like my pack is near. It's probably just because this is the first time I've beenaway from them since we solidified our bond. Will it always feel like they're watching me?
If they were, they would have stopped me before Trent threw the truck into drive near our house.
"Alright, this is going to be simple and fast. One of my guys is ready to chase Peterson out of there. All you need to do is grab him, drag him into the alley, stop on the tarp, and take him down."
We're parked a block down from the mediocre hotel Peterson is hiding out in. Trent didn't tell me much about how they found him or what they've been doing, but I don't care. I just want to kill this asshole and be done with it.
"What the fuck do you mean there's a tarp?"
Trent sighs and leans back in the driver’s seat. "You want him dead. That's what we agreed on. This way, my clean up crew can sweep the scene easy. If you'd like me to take him alive and torture him for a year, I will."
I'm slightly appalled by the amount of planning he put into this. I guess when you have a fuckingteam, orteamsplural, working with you to take the bad guys down, it makes things a lot easier.
"Alright," I drawl, and pull the knife free from my boot. "We'll go with quick and contained."
Trent eyes the small blade and raises a brow. "I have a silencer in the box behind me. Would you rather that?"
This guy is terrifying. I kind of like it. "No thanks."
He nods and hardens his gaze. "Alright. I'll text my guy in two minutes. See you after it's done."
That's my cue. I pull the simple black mask over my mouth and nose to conceal myself a bit more. Time to get the fuck out and get this shit done so I can go home.Home.
The entire walk to the hotel, I use the shadows to hide myself. This hunt is different because I can't wipe the cheesy grin off myface when I think about home. I've never had a home to go back to. There's never been an inkling of happiness or something to look forward to after a job.
Now there is. It doesn't matter that I didn't say goodbye because no matter what, I'm going the fuck home. Come hell or high water, I'm making it out of here alive.
It takes less than twenty seconds by the time I'm in position for Peterson to come rushing out of the hotel. His mouth is open in a silent cry, and his focus is trained over his shoulder.
Perfect.
