Page 66 of Pack Ruin
They struggled to sit upright as Father approached, Bradley putting himself between him and Margarette.She began cursing my father out, while Bradley sat silently watching us. His eyesmet mine, and I saw disappointment in them. I swallowed, knowing my father was watching me.
Bradley cleared his throat. “Finnick.”
“Bradley,” I drawled. “How the mighty have fallen.”
Margarette went quiet, her head swiveling to me. “Finn, tell me you’re not a part of this. You know Bradley’s not incompetent. You werethere.”
“I was. I was at your pack when you allowed rogues to plant a bomb practically inside the Lodge. When your own family abducted a guest and sold her to a Russian-backed rogue. After all of that, you executed your own Enforcers for who knows what reason. If the only thing my father is holding you for is gross incompetence, count your blessings. If I were in charge, Alpha heads would roll.”
I wasn’t lying, but only I knew which Alphas’ heads would be on the floor. Margarette’s jaw clenched, and Bradley closed his eyes, pain etching his features.
Father’s smile widened, and he patted me on the shoulder. “Well said, son. Now, let’s give our guests their dinner and leave them to ponder their gross failures in leadership.” Reaching into the bag, he pulled out a bottle of water and a package of peanut butter crackers, tossing them to the floor.
I forced myself not to give the Hilliers any indication that I was on their side. No hope. I knew there were cameras in the room, and that my father would watch the footage carefully later. But when I left the room and heard Margarette’s muffled sob, I let myself imagine my father’s head rolling free, painting the white hallway a bright red.
We turned a corner, and he opened another door with his fingerprint. “Enough amusing ourselves. This is today’s job.” This room smelled of bleach, blood, and traces of urine and shit. The male pinned to the opposing wall with thick, silver-lined manacles didn’t even look up when we entered, though I couldhear his breathing begin to saw in and out as we drew closer. “This is Trevor Blackside, who was found driving his defeated Alpha away from the Southern pack to Florida, of all places.”
“On their way to a theme park, perhaps?” I mocked as the male’s dark head slowly lifted until he was looking at me.
“That’s what we need to find out, before we finish up with him. So far, he’s been… resistant.” Father set the white bag down and opened the door again to let himself out, and I understood. Trevor Blackside would not be leaving this cell, at least not in one piece. “Take as long as you need, son. I’ll be?—”
Mother’s voice from the hallway interrupted. “Aidan. I have to make a quick trip back to Southern. There’s been a development. We think she’s returned—” The door closed on the rest of her words as Father slipped through.
I stifled a curse, desperate to know what was being said, but the soundproofing on these rooms was the best laundered money could buy. I opened the case and removed a long silver scalpel, ignoring the stench. “Well, well, Trevor Blackside. I almost want to pinch myself. It’s like my birthday came early.”
“I didn’t do nothin’,” he rasped. “I didn’t do anything but what my Alpha told me to. I was followin’ orders. Please don’t… don’t hurt me.”
“You did so much more. And I’m afraid I’m following orders as well.” I crossed the cell and leaned toward him, pulling his head close enough that I could whisper directly into his ear. “Though I want you to know when I kill you, I’m not doing it because my father wants me to. I’m doing it because—what was it? Four years ago now?—you chose the wrong wolf to hunt.”
30
They Killed Me First
FLOR
The best part about living at Southern—maybe the only good part—was it taught you how to take a shovelful of shit to the face and keep on going.
But a knife to the heart was still tough to handle, when so much else was going to hell. My heart ached to be standing in the small house Del had lived in for my entire life. So I focused on the shit.
“Glen, help Grigor inside. Luke? There should be cloth and bandages in the bathroom. Maybe some bottled water, too.” I kept my voice as quiet as possible, as Glen grabbed Grigor and did as I asked, locking the door behind them both and carrying the injured male to the threadbare sofa.
“Where did he keep the water?” Luke asked.
“There was a jug under the sink.” I followed him into the bathroom, hoping the gallon jug of water Del had kept for emergencies would still be there. It was, and I kneeled down to check the cabinet, searching for anything else useful. Luke grabbed clean rags from the shelf and turned toward me, ourbodies taking up too much space in the tiny room. Especially his body, all six foot two naked inches of him, though most of him was covered with dirt and mud from the storm drain.
Mostof him. His dick was practically at my eye level. When he tried to cover it with the bundle of rags, I realized I was staring. I slammed my eyes shut.
“Isn’t the water still hooked up?” he asked.
“If the pipes make noise, the neighbors will know someone’s here.” I kept my eyes down, filled my arms with supplies, and Luke followed me back to the sofa. “Sorry we don’t have fresh water,” I apologized to Grigor. “Del’s pipes practically yodel. We can’t risk it.”
Grigor groaned. “Give me… a minute. I’ll use magic… to contain…” He stopped talking when Glen moved away, and I let out a curse.
His abdomen was a mess. He still had the black trousers on, but they had small holes clear though, and bloodstains gleamed a darker black on the material. The skin of his torso was even bloodier.
There wasn’t one silver blade in him, but a bunch of… “Buckshot?” I wondered aloud. “The bastards used silver shot?” I felt an odd stirring of rage inside. “They broughtgunshere?”
Luke had grabbed Del’s ratty old bathrobe from a peg on the wall and was pulling it on. “Callaway had a shotgun in the armory. We didn’t ever use it, and I didn’t know he had silver shot. But it was probably already here.”
