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I jump up, ready to lunge at him and tear him to pieces, when two agents grip my arms again, wrestle them behind my back, and go to cuff me once more. Anger fuels me enough that I thrash in their grips, and it takes another agent coming over to put the cuffs on while the other two hold me still. All the while I’m thrashing, spit flying from my mouth as I growl at the audacity of him.
A beta!
Humiliation and pure rage fight for space in me, and Mason just stares at me for a second like I’m no better than the gum on the bottom of his shoe, then turns and follows the alpha carrying Summer all the way to their car.
Through my growling and fighting, I’m aware enough to see the alpha raise his brows at Mason who shrugs and says in a deadpan voice, “I wasn’t going to hit someone with their hands tied behind their back.”
A deep chuckle comes from the agent, and they walk down the sidewalk to the line of police cars.
As the door shuts on them and the agents shove me to the ground once more to hold me still–as my face is pushed against the loose gravel of the sidewalk–the only thought in my head is that I hope that bitch never recovers from that drug. And I hope that tears that piece of fucking shit beta apart little-by-little until he’s nothing more than a husk, an empty shell, of a man.
Twenty-Four
Brooklyn
Okay.She’s okay,I tell myself after Maverick gets off the phone with James, the OPS agent he somehow knew enough to call in a favor with. I’ll never stop being grateful for that.
But the waiting is going to kill me. Doctor Tanner is on her way, likely right behind the agents bringing Summer home.
The gate alarm at the end of the drive goes off, letting us know someone wants through. With a quick glance at the camera on the gate code, I see it’s the OPS agent in the driver’s seat, James, and I punch in the code on my phone to let them in.
Doctor Tanner’s car drives in right behind their SUV.
All four of us run out the front door to stand impatiently in the driveway as the cars pull up. Hudson doesn’t even wait for them to put the car in park before he’s ripping open the backseat door. There’s a pause as he stops to look at what must be Summer, and then the worry starts to creep in. She must look bad.
What did they do to her?
Hudson leans in and, with surprising gentleness, pulls our mate out of the backseat to cradle her in his arms. As his body turns and we get a good look at her, I feel my own body pause and lock up, just as he did. She’s awake.
At least, her eyes are open. But she’s not there.
A dead sort of blankness stares back at me, damning me for not being a better protector. A better alpha.
Mason scoots out of the car after Summer, and my eyes shoot straight to his red and swollen knuckles. When our eyes meet, he shakes his head at me. Not ready to talk.
Fair enough. I turn as Hudson walks by, Summer in his arms, and says he's taking her to the living room.
Nala runs out the front door, right up to Hudson, and starts sniffing Summer. She whines when her mom doesn’t greet her. Like she knows something is wrong. The dog follows them inside, sticking right on his heels.
Doctor Tanner breezes past me next, though, and she shakes her head when he sees where Hudson aims for. “No, take her to her nest. I’ll examine her there.”
Without a word, or a backward glance, Hudson changes direction and heads for the stairs once inside. I watch everyone trail behind Hudson and follow behind them at a slower pace. Part of me is scared for her to examine Summer. To hear any bad news. I’d rather bundle Summer up in my arms and tell the good doctor her services aren’t needed.
Summer is going to befine.
She has to be.
But I know that’s emotion and not logic talking. So when Tanner barks for all the overbearing mates to get out while she examines her patient, I don’t kick up a fuss. Though, based on the looks the men are shooting at the closed bedroom door, they just might. Especially when Tanner lets Nala in the room with them before closing the door.
What feels like an hour–but is probably only twenty minutes–goes by before Tanner reappears. She walks out, medical bag in hand, and closes the bedroom door behind her.
I don’t think I’m breathing.
“Physically, her body seems fine. Her blood pressure is within a normal range, her pupils are reactive, and despite a little redness and some swelling starting on her cheek, she appears untouched.”
Untouched… as in?
Answering the unspoken question and horror on all of our faces, she nods. “I did a pelvic exam, and there are no signs of assault.”
