Chapter 194

Chapter 194
James:
“The guy with her?” Travis’s voice cracked through the air like a whip, deep and thunderous. Alpha authority was sharp and unforgiving when released. The boy shrieked. He attempted to scamper away from my cousin’s voice. It was the instinct to run far away that had the boy twisting violently to get free. The legs of the chair scraped abasing the floor. Travis shot me a strained look. I let out a long, frustrated breath, the air hissing between my teeth. This was why Travis brought me here. Not as back up but as a buffer. 

The kid was terrified of my father and cousin. Bringing me in was a tactical call. I played the good alpha role to my father’s sadistic alpha one. Meanwhile Travis could remain neutral until provoked. That was a next level of intelligence Travis possessed. The problem was, I wasn’t an alpha anymore. Not without Beau. The command in my voice I once wielded like a blade had zapped out of existence. Then again, I’d always had the friendlier, more trustworthy charm. Which was working in our favor now. I didn’t scare him, instead I reached him. 

I’d already gotten more info out of him, than either one. Their presence was pushing the boy deeper into panic. Cornering him like an animal again. I remained silent, knowing better than to give orders to Alphas in neutral territory. I refocused on the tag at hand.

“Let’s ignore them for a bit, yeah?” I leveled my voice into something calm and steady. 

The boy hiccuped through a sob, but he didn’t flinch away this time. “Did you see what was in the bag?” 

“No. It wasn’t part of the deal. I thought it was drugs or kinky sex shit. People do crazy stuff in hotel rooms.” He laughed dryly, like a kid trying to understand the cruelty of this world, “I’m stupid. So fucking stupid.” 

I just watched him. This kid wasn’t a criminal mastermind but a victim to another of Jessica’s ploys. Since she married Alpha John; she’d become the bane of Rue’s existence. And after the cursed night, she became mine. This teenage boy thought five grand was a ticket to a better life, but it only brought him here. Tied to a chair, flinching at drills and crying into a blindfold. I stood slowly, my eyes drifting toward my father, who was still fingering the edge of the dental drill like he was deciding which nerve to fray next. With a curling smile he hit the button. 

“Please, man. I’ve told you what I know!” The kid begged, voice breaking on the edge of hysteria. He pulled at his restraints again, his fear now full-blown terror. My father scraped the edge of a blade down the concrete wall, dragging it deliberately. The daunting screech sounded wrong and shrill, like claws on glass. It wasn’t the knife itself that did the damage but the threat of it. The implication. The sick, theatrical cruelty my father wore like cologne. 

The boy screamed thrashing against the chair and restraints until a wet sickening pop sounded and caused my stomach to lurch. Another wail of pain escaped his lips before his head dropped like a rag doll. Silence fell like a stone in water. He must have passed out from pain or fear. It was impossible to tell but it was probably both. I straightened, threw my hands up in expiration, looking at Travis like; Are you fucking kidding me?

He shrugged in return, expression unreadable, like this was a normal Tuesday night. My father, meanwhile, was grinning ear to ear. My father let out a full bellied laugh. 

“Stupid little bitch got so scared he dislocated his shoulder.” He cackled, clutching his sides like it was the best joke he’d heard all week. I stared at him, mouth agape and godless, every part of me resisted the urge to fight him. My father set the tool back on the table with a clang, “I love this game.” 

I ran my hand through my hair, trying and failing to get my anger under control, “It’s not a game.” 

Travis’s chest rumbled with thunderous anger, “If you would stop with the sadistic theatrics this wouldn’t have happened. He was talking just fine before you scared him.” 

Travis stalked up to the table littered with tools, the heels of his boots slamming against the floor in fury. He picked up a pair of pliers, stared at them like they might bite him only to drop them with a harsh clatter. 

"What the fuck is all this?” He barked, gesturing to the collection of crude tools. “He is barely eighteen! None of this shit was necessary. We are talking to a boy not a fucking terrorist.” 

“It’s an interrogation, not an ice cream social,” My father snapped back, voice hard and bitter. He pointed a finger in Travis’s direction, “And watch your tone, boy.” 

“With all due respect” Travis didn’t even blink, instead he ground out the words between his teeth, “I am Alpha here. This is my territory. So you’ll excuse me if I don’t take orders from an entitled, senile old fart with 1 foot in the grave.” 

He leaned in, his dominating presence expanding to fill the room, “Unless you’d like me to help you put both feet in. The boy is under my custody.”

The silence was immediate as their standoff began again. Travis crossed his arms over his chest and ended with iron-clad words, “I decide his fate.”