Chapter Twenty

Dylan hated having no options. He wanted to tell Tracy they had it all figured out, that she had no reason to worry. He wanted Karen tucked safely into her own bedroom knowing nothing would get her, knowing that Dylan would handle it all.

He couldn’t say that, though. Every hour that passed, each time he thought about an option, he realized they didn’t have many of them. Every damn time he found something he thought might work, he came up with a million reasons it wouldn’t.

In short? They were completely fucked.

They had no leverage. If they told Mario the truth, he might kill Tracy and them just to tie up loose ends. If they went to the cops, they couldn’t do a damned thing without proof. Sam had been adamant about people putting up roadblocks everywhere he looked in the official channels, which left them with fuck-all without some very clear evidence. Evidence that had just been burned.

He rubbed the heel of his hands against his eyes, frustration wearing him down. He hadn’t slept more than a few hours. Even exhausted as he had been from Tracy, nothing had managed to keep him in bed.

Which sucked, because he’d really needed rest.

Her warm body had helped and, hell, even lying beside the other alphas had let him relax more than he had in years. After the three of them had lost themselves in lust, when he’d driven orgasm after orgasm from her body until she was begging him to stop, after she’d given as much pleasure as she’d taken, they’d slept in the same large bed.

It wasn’t enough, though, not when a crippling fear of losing it all plagued him.

A kiss to his shoulder had him turning to find Tracy standing beside him.

Either she was silent, or he was far too distracted for his own good.

Probably a bit of both.

“Morning,” he rumbled, trying to keep the stress from his tone, not wanting to burden her.

“You’ve been up worrying, haven’t you?”

A smile he couldn’t help toyed at his lips at her correct guess. “A little.”

She slid in the seat beside him, and again he was awe-struck by just how pretty the woman was. Her hair was wild, still damp from a shower, and the more she came out of her shell, the more he realized how well it suited her. At first, when she’d been the frightened mouse he’d met, he’d thought her hair an absurd feature. It was meant for a feisty female, for one with more backbone and spunk than the girl who cowered at ever sound. With time, though, he’d seen more.

She was brave, and she had backbone. Tracy might not throw her strength around as some did, but she’d do anything to protect those she loved.

Am I one of those people, now?

He shoved away the question. Even thought he’d accepted his place, he still couldn’t accept she cared for him, not like she did the others in their grouping. It just didn’t seem possible.

“I talked to Sam, and you guys are going to go pick Karen up today.”

“Is that a good idea?”

Tracy pushed her hair from her face. “I don’t know, honestly. At this point, however, I also don’t have any other ideas. I don’t have a plan, and I’m not sure what will happen. However, Mario gave me a month to find them. He still doesn’t know for sure we found them, and at best, even if he did think we had them, he’ll think we moved them after that woman broke in. I can’t leave Karen with Claire for another two weeks until the clock runs down. She’ll come back, and when we’re ready to do something, when I know what to do, we’ll send her off with Claire or Tiffany.”

We’ll. Damn, that sounds good. I like we’ll. I like her thinking of us as a unit.

Dylan nodded, trying to keep his face blank. “Okay. Got to say, I miss her.”

“No more self-defense,” Tracy chided.

“She could use a lot more of that, and you too. Self-defense isn’t about expecting trouble, but it’s about knowing that when trouble shows up, you can handle it.”

She narrowed her eyes but didn’t argue with him. Instead, she changed the subject. “So you’ll help get her?”

“And leave you here alone? Fuck. That.” The very thought of leaving her on her own made his skin crawl. Mario could still show up, or another of his lackeys, and she’d be alone?

Like fuck.

Tracy’s lips pressed together in a tight line. “You’re going to be getting Karen. She means more to me than anything else, and we both know she’s in far more in danger than I am. Mario hasn’t come after me directly because he knows I’m the only who can get him what he wants—either I have them or I can find them. Either way, Karen’s at more risk. Please, Dylan, I trust you, and I need to know you’ll be looking after her. It’s a long drive, and, honestly?” She rested an arm on the counter, looking as tired as he felt. “I could use a little time alone.”

“For what?”

“Thinking.”

“If it makes you that unhappy, I don’t fucking suggest it.”

She offered up a weak smile, as though the joke wasn’t good but she wanted to acknowledge that he’d tried.

“I just want to take a long, hot bath and enjoy the silence. I want to be able to think about everything and see if I can’t sort it out.”

“And if you think and realize you’re better off without us?”

“Well, I mean, how could I do without your charm?”

Dylan gave her a soft growl before leaning in and stroking his lips against hers in a kiss so quick and soft, she couldn’t react before he pulled away. “I don’t like it. What did Sam say?”

“Pretty much what you did, but he gave in. So did Mason.”

“They always give omegas too much leeway. I’m not as soft as they are.”

“Why do you think I waited until last to talk to you?” She leaned toward him to recapture the kiss he’d cut short. She was pure sugar, sweet and giving and so much more than he’d ever deserved.

Even so, he took the kiss, took all she gave to him. He’d always been a selfish bastard. By the time they broke apart, he was hard again, aching and breathless. Fuck, was there ever gonna be a time around her he wasn’t sporting a hard-on?

“You are manipulative,” he whispered, his forehead pressed to hers.

“But you’ll do it?”

He hated himself but nodded. At the end of the day, he’d give her anything she needed, and if that was a bit of time to herself, fine.

She was right. Karen was in more danger, and Dylan wouldn’t even consider what would happen if the girl got hurt. Just the quick thought had his chest tightening and his temper shortening.

“Fine,” he snapped. “But when we get back, you’re making it up to us.”

She traced his bottom lip with her tongue, a teasing touch full of promise. “Gladly.”

* * * *

Mason grinned at Karen, who sat in the front seat of the truck. One good look at Dylan and she’d stolen the coveted spot from the alpha, a miracle since Dylan didn’t give in to anyone.

Then again, Karen had the same ability to twist all three of the alphas her mother had.

“Aunt Claire said no more ice cream, but later, Bryce brought me a bowl.”

Mason didn’t bother to hide his bark of laughter at the thought of the sternest of the three alphas sneaking Karen desserts.

Seemed Karen could manipulate damn near any male she wanted. Then again, her mother had managed to get herself some free time, despite the grumbling of all three alphas.

No matter how many times people said alphas were in control, Mason knew it was a lie. A good set of batting eyelashes or a grin and a female could bring any alpha to his knees with a smile on his face.

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to weasel out more time there,” Sam said from the back seat.

“I missed Mom, and my room, and—” She closed her lips, going silent.

Mason turned a side-eye on her, the lights from the street spilling into the truck cab. “What did you miss, kid?”

She fiddled with the frayed spots on her jeans, and Mason made a note to make sure they got her some new ones. He tried to remember how many bags she’d brought to the house with her, and he only recalled one small bag over her shoulder. She needed more things, and he wanted to shower her with them. He wanted to spoil her rotten with whatever he could.

A soft sigh, then Karen spoke in a quiet voice. “I missed you guys.”

And there went any resistance Mason might have had before. Fuck, those soft words melted him.

Nothing was going to ever happen to her. He swore it up and down, that that little girl wouldn’t ever have to be afraid again, that he’d do whatever it took to give her the life she should have had all along.

He went to respond, to come up with some dumb-ass way of saying what was in his head that wouldn’t make either of them feel more award, but before he could think of anything, something knocked the truck to the side.

Mason gripped the steering wheel as the car jerked to the right. Squealing tires and Karen’s startled scream filled the cab.

The truck shuddered as it hit the rough pavement outside the guidelines of the lane, but Mason slammed the brakes and steered it back before it hit the concrete wall on the shoulder.

Mason’s other hand reached over, keeping Karen in place. She grasped his arm like it was far more comforting than the seatbelt, which was probably doing a hell of a lot more, but suddenly Mason understood why Sam’s mom had stuck her arm out any time she’d slammed the brakes no matter how old Mason got.

Seemed that shit was instinct.

The truck came to a hard stop, and the first words came from Sam. “Everyone okay? Karen? You good?”

Mason twisted when Karen didn’t answer, and while her eyes were wide, she didn’t appear harmed. “Hey, kid, it’s okay. Nothing hurts, right?”

She swallowed hard, the pallid tone of her skin speaking volumes about how shaken up she was. “I’m okay.”

“I’m good, too,” Dylan chimed in. “In case anyone cared.”

“And here I thought we’d finally rid ourselves of you.” Mason sat up, squinting into the darkness of the deserted side street to look for the other car involved. He’d caught a glimpse of a dark SUV. Did they end up swerving off the road?

Now that he knew those in the truck were fine, he grasped the door handle, ready to check on the other vehicle. Before he could open the door, the truck jerked hard again. The same dark SUV hit the driver side of the truck. It shook the entire vehicle, a terrible grinding as it fucked up the side.

The metal-on-metal sound stopped, and a shove showed the other vehicle had pinned the truck between it and the concrete sidewall, trapping the door shut. What the fuck?

Mason leaned past Karen and shoved at her door, but nope. Nothing. It didn’t give at all.

The shattering of glass forced Mason over Karen, covering her from the falling shards. A hissing sound brought his head up to find the small triangle glass near the front windshield broken, and a black hose poked in.

“The hell is that?” Mason growled out the words, gaze darting for options.

Sam answered after a quick sniff, voice hard. “It’s the same gas they used at the hospital.”

“You’re sure?”

A huffed sound said Sam wasn’t an idiot. He had his cell out, the beeping of the numbers as he dialed punctuating the hissing of the gas and the lightheaded sensation Mason struggled to ignore.

He knew the gas Sam was talking about, the type used for alphas when they needed to be sedated. It meant it wouldn’t harm Karen. In fact, it wouldn’t affect her at all. However, if they didn’t get something figured out fast, it would put all three alphas down.

And that wasn’t acceptable. He’d just sworn to himself to take care of Karen and here he was failing her already.

Sam’s voice from the back seat said he was talking to the police station, giving out the information he could, but the alphas had started to cough.

Mason couldn’t break the window beside Karen. She might get cut. Instead, he shifted up the center console and scooted that way. If he could get far enough over, he could drive his boot through the window. He might not be able to get out that way because of the SUV, but getting some of the gas out of the cab could keep him conscious enough to do something.

One problem at a time.

He slid toward Karen, bringing his long legs up, the space not nearly enough for his huge frame. He kicked out his feet once, but the angle wasn’t good for much drive. His heels bounced off the glass. His lungs burned, and his thoughts crawled at a snail’s pace through his head.

He coughed, as though that could clear his lungs and his head, then lifted his feet to kick again. The window cracked, lines spidering out, but nothing else.

He tried for one more kick, but the gas won. He couldn’t find the energy to break the window, to even deliver another kick to finish what the last had started.

Mason curled his fingers around Karen’s shirt, as though he could do something, but darkness took him.