Page 8 of Knot Your Pawn

She’s used to using dubious methods to get information out of people. And if it’s to protect her pack, I’m sure she’ll do whatever she needs to, just like what was going through Mathew’s mind earlier.

“Location?” We’ve nearly crossed the distance between the house and the complex.

“In the back.” She’s still calm, which is making me more nervous now.

Mathew reaches the door to the training complex first and doesn’t seem to need any directions as he immediately rushes down the hallway, to the back.

In the back it splits into two hallways, one leads to the shooting range, and on the other leads to rooms that are used for ‘various things’.

In one of the first days we were here, I’d explored the complex to see what was what, and I’d noticed that the walls of these rooms were unusually thick and that they were easy to clean…

It didn’t take me much to imagine what the ‘various things’ were that the rooms were being used for.

My chest tightens.

Please, don’t let Riley be doing something too extreme.

Please, let her not do something too violent.

I glance at Jorge, who’s very pale, bordering on green, as he’s probably aware of where we’re heading.

If Mathew and Riley both made sure to keep him mostly out of the bloodier and more violent parts of their jobs, then it wouldn’t be unexpected if they kept the more dubious parts of the ‘information gathering’ from him too.

Suspecting that something is being done is of course very different from seeing it being done.

Fuck.

As we reach the end of the hallway, just past the doors to the shooting range, I grab Jorge’s shoulders, making him stop. “Wait here. I’ll take a look first.”

He’s seen enough blood for one night. He’s seen more than enough of his mates’ violent side for one night.

Jorge opens his mouth to say something but then gives a quick nod and leans back against the wall, taking deep breaths.

I walk down the hallway that goes off the main hallway, following the sounds of raised voices, until I reach a door that’s slightly ajar.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mathew’s voice is hard and I hear metal scraping over stone floor.

That can’t be good.

I barge into the room, finding one of the guys we picked up, the fake security guard, on a chair in the corner of the room, half naked, his eyes wide in terror as he stares at Riley and Mathew.

In front of him, on the floor, are what look to be the remnants of his gear, cut into small pieces.

“I was making sure he couldn’t be tracked here.” Riley wipes her hands on her legs, picks up the knife that’s halfway across the room and goes back over to the guy. “We can never be too sure that they didn’t sew a bug into his clothes. Those Suits Syndicate bastards can be very calculating at times.”

She reaches out to the guy’s back, apparently wanting to continue her methodical cutting away of his clothes, but Mathew grabs her wrist before she can touch him.

“No.” His voice is quiet, his eyes dark, dangerous. “Don’t touch that fucking bastard. He doesn’t deserve it.” He slowly takes the knife out of Riley’s fingers, but when he turns to the fake security guard, his gaze not easing up, I step in.

Why did I think that Mathew was going to stop her?

Of course, he’s going to continue what she was doing.

Riley and Mathew are very similar, eerily so at times.

Mathew’s problem with what Riley was doing wasn’t the cutting away of the clothes of the terrified man, the problem was that Riley was touching the guy. Mathew was being possessive, that’s all.

“Both of you. In the hallway. Now!” I use enough of my Alpha powers that I’m sure they’ll listen.