Page 7 of Ruin Me Knot
I coast to a stop in deep shadow between buildings as the SUV slows and rolls through electronic steel gates that open as they approach. Beyond the fence, a squat building crouches at the center of a deserted parking lot, no sign of life inside the rows of razor-tipped wire curled along the top of twelve-foot high fences. The lot is cracked and patched. Weeds spear through gaps. Nothing moves except the senator’s vehicle.
I recognize this decommissioned rail station. Hardwick shut it down years ago, citing 'safety violations.’
The SUV glides to the entrance, red taillights dying when the engine cuts. Hardwick climbs out, her movements brisk and impatient. She snaps out a command and guards haul Leah from the back seat. She looks impossibly fragile between their hulking forms.
They shove her forward so hard she stumbles. Hardwick punches a code into the wall panel and a door slides open. The guards manhandle Leah through before the door closes behind them, leaving the outside of the building bathed in darkness and desertion.
Gabriel’s knuckles whiten, jaw grinding. Jax lets out a silent curse, eyes burning holes through the shadows. My gut squeezes, but we have our target. Now we’ll do what we were made for. We’ll bring her home, and burn the whole place to the ground behind us.
Chapter Four
Gabriel
My nerves are live wires crackling with tension. The compulsion to reach our Omega claws through my entire body. I get out and wrench open the trunk, searching for anything that will get us through that wire fence.
I dig through the jumble of crap until I find the cold, weighty length of a crowbar. Fuckingperfect. I pull it free, admiring the hook. It’s not the first time a tool like this has helped us break into places we don’t belong.
Ronan and Jax are ready and silent as we steal through the shadows to the fence. Ronan scans the perimeter, Jax crouches beside me, and togetherwe trace the linked wire for a weakness until we spot a rusted post and sagging mesh at the base.
I wedge the crowbar in, brace my boots against the ground, and put everything I have behind it. The steel groans but gives. Working together, we lever up the edge enough to make a gap.
We check for security cameras before sliding under the wire and crouch-sprinting across the tarmac into the building’s shadows. Pressed flat against the wall, we catch our breath and listen for footsteps, alarms, anything that may have alerted them to our presence. Heart pounding, I grip the crowbar and follow my brothers as we wait for the camera to swing past, then move to a darkened window.
I jam the crowbar into the sill and lean my weight against it. The wood groans and splinters fly. The hinge snaps with a crack and the frame shudders, swinging wide enough to slip through.
Thank fuck for all the training. Every step and breath feels like muscle memory.
Inside, we freeze. We’re in a trashed science lab. Counter-tops ringed with broken glass, metal stools kicked aside, computers busted open and scorched, cabinets gaping, their contents spilling everywhere. The air reeks of sweat and burned circuitry, still warm. Papers smeared with strange stains litter the desks alongside empty syringes and bloody gloves.
Somebody cleaned house.
They did it fast and recently.
At Ronan’s signal, we move to the door. Every sense is stretched tight. My pulse thunders as the urge to find our Omega drowns out everything else.
The corridor blazes with harsh fluorescent light. The air is thick with terrified Omega scents so strong they’ve soaked into the walls.
We move in a silent line down the corridor, glancing into each room. Metal cots are bolted to the floor. Mattresses are as thin as cardboard. Dirty blankets lie in crumpled heaps.
Omegas have bled in here.
Nothing but holding pens for suffering.
I share a glance with Ronan and Jax. The ache in our chests isn’t just for Leah anymore.
We reach another room and I can’t take another step. Leah’s essence pours out, wilted rosewater soaked through with misery. It scorches the inside of my throat, so strong I have to close my eyes. Yet I force them open. Force myself to see the space where my Omega has survived.
The cell is barren. Nothing more than a metal cot, a bucket in the corner, an overturned tin dish. Rust stains the corners of the space black. No hint of dignity.
Leah’s been caged here too long.
Kept, not cared for. Stripped of everything human. Our pack bond burns with untamed rage and grief, the weight of what happened in these rooms crushing down.
I know what Leah went through at Haven. Adrian briefed us before he hired us to guard Mira. He laid it out cold and clinical. I think it was the only way he could tell us without being overwhelmed.
I've seen sick shit in war. But this is worse.
It’s not chaos or desperation. This is a deliberate destruction of a person, piece by piece, until nothing’s left but a hollow shell.
