Page 93 of Savage Surrender

Five years of perimeter watch in freezing rain. Extraction runs at three in the morning with nothing but hand signals and a crowbar. Omegas so conditioned they apologized and returned to the men we were saving them from. I’ve worked jobs like this too many times to count. I’m an asset. I’ve hunted these kinds of men. Killed them. I can do the job.

My scent spikes - charred and angry. Freddie’s nostrils flare.

“I’ve spent years doing this.” The words come out level, which surprises me because my insides feel like they’re going to explode. “Not something like this. Exactly this. I can monitor my own body.”

They trade glances with one another, and then Weller speaks. “We’ll discuss it later, after Mason sends the bus routes.”

“Fine. Owen, let’s go install the cameras and lights. I need fresh air.”

20

FREDDIE

Bianca has only been asleep for a few hours when the bus pulls away from the ferry terminal, and I can already imagine her waking up.

She’ll find our note and curse us out.

The ferry’s lights shrink through the rear window. I watch until the road turns and the terminal disappears behind a row of dark buildings.

Owen shifts beside me. The bus is mostly empty.

“She’s going to hate us.”

Owen doesn’t bother looking away from the window. “No, she won’t.”

“We just had a whole conversation about honesty and this doesn’t feel honest.”

“She’ll be pissed, but she’ll get over it.”

The roll of cash digs into my thigh through my pocket. I pull it out, count it again, then push it back where it was. The burner is zipped into Owen’s jacket with the routes Mason sent us, along with every photograph of the house and every scrap of a schedule his investigator managed to put together. We have enough information to get there. Hopefully enough to get inside.

No idea if we have enough to get Mom out.

I look back through the window even though Wrecker’s Point has been gone for several miles. “She could go into heat while we’re gone.”

“Weller and Tristan are with her.” The answer leaves him on a tired breath. “She’s safe where she’s at, Freddie. That’s the point.”

I hate how easily he says it. I hate that he’s right more.

Bianca could have helped us. She wasn’t exaggerating about that, and none of us thought she was. I’ve seen her move through dangerous situations with ease.

But then Charles would have had access to the one thing valuable enough to make us hand Mom right back if it came to that. At least long enough to try a new strategy to free her. But there’s no option where we give up Bianca. Which makes her presence especially dangerous.

“We waited until she couldn’t argue anymore,” I say. “Seems unfair.”

Owen finally looks at me. There isn’t much apology in his face, but there hasn’t been much of anything since we walked out of that bedroom. “Yeah.”

The photo of my mom flashes through my head.

Owen settles his head against the seat. The movement catches in his shoulder, and his mouth tightens before he smooths it away.

“You’re doing the thing,” he says.

“What thing?”

“Taking every bad option and making it your fault.”

His eyes close, ending the discussion the way only Owen can, as if deciding he is done speaking removes the rest of us from the conversation too.